I'm not what you would call a good-looking man - in my opinion, anyway. Maybe it's just that I am not my type. I actually prefer younger, toned men. But all I do is look, anyway. I was married to my wife for going on forty years and we raised two sons and a daughter. She passed away almost a year ago. I never seriously played around on my wife in all those years, though I must confess to several blowjobs in public toilets and places like that over the years. I've both given them and received them, but the sex has always been quick and anonymous.

Now I'm pushing sixty, greying and balding. I have a pronounced beer belly - not from so much beer, but from decades of my wife's cooking, and from my lack of exercise. I always say I am going to join a gym, or take regular exercise runs or walks, but I never seem to get round to it. I sport a sort of goatee, partly because I am too lazy to shave every day, but mostly to hide my increasing wrinkles and the unsightly scars of teenage acne.

I'm the Sales Manager for a farm machinery distribution company, handling several major brand names, and my job mostly keeps me tied to my desk, dealing with my own sales agents and those of the brand names we handle.

Occasionally, as a perk, I get to got to a convention hosted by one of the machinery companies we represent. That's what I got to do this last weekend. I got to fly to Vancouver with other Winnipeg agents and we were put up in one of the older, but quite opulent Vancouver hotels.

I almost never came on this one. My Assistant Sales Manager had handed me his resignation. He had received a great offer from one of our competitors. I couldn't blame him for taking the offer, but his resignation took effect on this last Friday, and the convention lasts until Monday. It meant I had to shut sales down for Monday. I just hoped my bosses would look kindly on my action. Anyway, I did come.

After hours we were on our own. And that's what took me to the lounge, where I sat alone at the bar sucking on a rum and coke, worrying about how to replace my departing assistant, and generally feeling lonely. In the mirrors behind the bar, I saw myself amongst the bottles, an aging widowed man in a beige suit. I also saw another man whom I had noticed during the day's meetings take the stool alongside me.

"Hey, there," he said. "I take it we're in the same business. I saw you at the opening assembly this morning."

I turned to look at him. He was much the same age as me, but clean-shaven, with a crew-cut, and wearing black-rimmed glasses. He was also dressed in a suit, a darker one. He was a big man, and really looked like your typical older salesman, the type that's out there on the sales lot or on the road from town to town and farm to farm, not the desk jockey like me. Maybe even more like a retired truck-driver.

He was wearing a shirt with the logo of Macallroy and Company, one of our competitors, but there was no animosity between our companies, just friendly rivalry.

"From?" I asked him.

"Calgary," he told me. "So I'm not too far from home. "You?"

"Winnipeg," I informed him. "I don't get this far west very often."

"Yeah, flying in late last night, and being up for the breakfast meeting and registration this morning made for a long day today."

I agreed with him, to make small talk. I wasn't really looking for company, but he was ruggedly attractive, and very friendly.

"Yes," he told me. "I've been with Macallroy for ten years, but the younger guys are getting the promotions. I'm not so good on the road any more. But there's nothing at Head Office for me.

"Most of them younger sales guys from the company have gone out night-clubbing. Typical Convention behaviour," he told me. "Some have even gone to Davie Street," he added.

"Davie Street?" I queried. "What's there?"

"That's the gay village," he told me.

Interesting. Why would he mention that?

"I'm too old for the clubs, myself," he added. "The only chicks who are interested in me are the hookers, looking for an old man with a fat wallet," he said.

The waiter came by, and my new-found friend ordered himself a drink and a refill for me.

"I'm more of a man's man, anyway," he told me. "If you know what I mean," and with that he gave me a broad wink.

I wasn't really sure what he meant at that point, but I gave him a big smile, as if I really did understand. I guess he took this as a signal, because the next thing I knew, his hand was on my thigh below the bar.

To my own surprise, I didn't pull away, but actually got a thrill at having this male stranger touching me. I glanced around the rest of the lounge nervously, but no-one else was paying us the slightest attention. My dick started to tingle. I was getting a woody!

"I'm Hank Forest," he told me. "And you are?"

"Barney Forbes," I told him.

"Good to meet you, Barney," he went on. His hand had slid up my thigh, and his outer fingers were touching my balls through the cloth of my pants and the jock-strap style undies I was wearing. My dick grew harder and stretched against my jock.

"It's good to meet a man after my own heart," he told me. "I think we're going to get along just great."

It was quite clear to me by now what he meant, and I have to admit I was excited at the prospect of what might be yet to come.

"You have a mini-bar in your room?" Hank asked.

"Yes," I nodded.

"Well, let's go up there where we can get a bit more comfortable — or to my room if you prefer."

"No, mine will be fine," I agreed, breathless with excitement. "That sounds good."

Hank summoned the waiter, and had him put both my bill and his own onto his room tab, then signed for it. He popped a ten dollar bill into the waiter's tip glass. Then he led the way to the elevators.

As it turned out, we were both on the same floor, anyway, but his room was closer to the elevators, and by now we were both in a hurry.

Hank opened the door with his card and led me in. No sooner were we through the door than Hank grabbed me and pushed me against the wall, searching for my mouth with his. I was a bit hesitant at first. I had never kissed a man before.

I could have said "Don't" or "Stop" or something, but I didn't. I opened my mouth to receive his. I searched for his tongue with mine in his open mouth. He pressed his tongue forward into my mouth, and I sucked on it.

Still kissing, we were both tearing off our suit jackets, dropping them to the floor where we stood. Hank's roaming hands had found my belt buckle and undid it, along with the waist buttons of my pants. He pulled down my zip and his hand slipped inside my pants, feeling my junk encased in the pouch of my jock. In a second he had popped my cock and balls free from the constraints.

I undid my shirt and pulled up the bottom of my singlet to allow him free access.

With one hand massaging my already stiff rod, Hank undid his own shirt as he left off kissing me and slid down my front to his knees.

He pulled my cock out of my pants and slid back my foreskin. There was a little smegma gathered at the rim of my knob. I was quite embarrassed about it. I had showered before the bar, but this had built up already. I needn't have worried.

"Mmmm, cheese," murmured Hank, and licked at it with his tongue before taking my whole knob into his mouth and sucking greedily.

We were both struggling out of our shirts by now. Hank slid my pants down as well, and I stepped out of them, leaving me standing against the wall in just my socks and my red jock strap.

Still munching on my cock, Hank had also shed all his clothes except his own socks and underwear.

"Hm! Matching outfits," he commented. Sure enough, we were wearing the same brand and type of jock-straps, except his was black where mine was red.

He went back to sucking, licking, and kissing my cock and balls with a vengeance. I was afraid I was going to cum!

"Let's move over to the bed," I suggested. I wanted an excuse to have him leave off sucking my cock for a minute or two, to give me a chance to regain control, so that I didn't blow my wad so soon.

We did as I suggested, but he immediately wanted more of my cock. He lay on his back on the bed, and hung his head over the edge.

"Face-fuck me like this," he suggested. "I want to see if I can get your cock right down my throat this way."

I stood over Hank's face beside the bed, and he again took my cock into his mouth. By spreading my legs and bending and straightening my knees, I could force my dick up and down inside his willing mouth, but it was very uncomfortable, and I had yet to enjoy his cock.

"I want to suck yours," I told him. "I haven't sucked a dick in ages."

Hank sat up, and then kneeled on the bed. His cock stuck out straight and hard from the straps on his black jock. I climbed onto the bed with him and clenched his dick. I took a moment to admire Hank's lovely cock. It was about the same length as mine, around six inches, but it was thicker than mine by far. Like mine, it was also uncut, and I drew back his foreskin to admire the throbbing red knob before I leaned forward to take it into my mouth. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed the delicious texture a of a dick head in my mouth.

I licked the knob like a child with an ice-cream cone, driving Hank mad when I licked the sensitive underside of his knob. I licked and sucked and chewed and gobbled until my jaws were sore s from stretching, trying to get it all down my throat. And I wanted more of Hank's mouth on my own hot rod.

"Let's try a sixty-nine," I suggested. I had never done that with a man, and although my wife liked me to lick her, she did not like sucking my cock.

Hank lay on his back, his head was now at the pillow end. I clambered on top of him, head to toe, and felt his mouth enclose my cock once more. My face stared down at his scrumptious dick. But I had to strain down and forward to reach it with my mouth. Our bellies were in the way!

I'd like to say our attempt at sixty-nining was erotic, but it had hardly that. With a couple of younger men it might be sensuous and graceful, but for two aging men with beer bellies it was more hilarious than artistic.

Our bellies served as fulcrums and we rocked up and down on them as if on a seesaw as we took turns on going down on each others cocks. It was about as graceful as the Disney cartoon with the dancing hippos, except we were more like beached whales trying to fornicate.

We both realized how funny it was at the same time.

"Well, so much for sixty-nine," Hank said, still chuckling. "But while we are in this position, how about I rim you?"

"What's that?" I asked. I had never heard of rimming.

"Lick and suck your ass," he told me.

"That's gross!" I exclaimed.

"Don't knock it till you've tried it," Hank chastised. Before I knew it he was reaching with his mouth up beyond my balls, then I felt his tongue licking my asshole. I tried to remember whether I had taken a shower since I last took a crap.

"Mmmm," murmured Hank. "Tastes delicious!"

It felt delicious, too. I had never felt anything quite like it before. Of course, I had fingered my hole in the shower before, even stuck my finger inside, but never had i felt anything like this. He was pushing his tongue right into me, then licking my hole, and even sucking on it. When he rubbed his stubbly chin against my hole, I almost went into orbit.

I heard him spitting on my hole, then felt one of his fingers slide inside me. It felt great! It didn't hurt at all! I pushed back to force it deeper into me. He was sliding it in and out of me in a fucking movement.

Then I felt a bit more pressure and stretching as he tried again with two fingers. They slipped in rather easily also, and gave me even greater pleasure.

Next he closed four fingers together and tried to push them into my hole. There was a little resistance and a little pain, but I was amazed how good it felt. He started finger-fucking me with all four fingers, and every stroke got easier and felt better. I wanted something more.

"Fuck me," I pleaded.

"You sure?" Hank asked. "Seems like you're pretty new at this."

"I'm sure," I said, "and I am new at this. I've never been fucked before. Just take it easy with me."

"I will," he promised me. "I've got a little tube of lube in my jacket pocket," he added as he rolled off the bed to retrieve it.

"Might be easier doggy-style," he told me, as he returned with the lube. "That way our bellies won't get in the way so much. Get on your hands and knees."

I did as Hank ordered, and spread my legs a little so he could kneel between them. I heard him crack the top off the tube of lubricant, and then his fingers squishing some of it onto my hole, and pushing some of it inside me. He worked more of it in with two fingers until I was well-oiled.

"I'll just take it slowly," he told me. "Just tell me if it's hurting."

"Do you want me to wear a condom?" he asked. "I don't have any diseases," he added.

"That's OK," I told him. "Just go easy."

I felt that huge knob I had been admiring so recently pushing itself against my virgin hole. I wanted it in me so much I didn't care how much it hurt. I pushed back onto it with steady pressure. I could feel my hole stretching open to admit the invader. I pushed again, and then felt unbearable pain shoot through my whole lower regions. His massive knob had torn open my tiny hole and rushed inside, ripping me apart — or so it felt — for a few moments. Then the tidal wave of pain was abating, leaving gentle waves of pleasure lapping over me and through me.

Hank held his cock still inside me, until I whispered, "OK, do me." He slowly pushed forward, driving his drill deeper and deeper into my mineshaft, until his groin was pressing against my buttocks. He could go no further. I was being fucked to his fullest.

Slowly Hank pulled his dick out of me. I felt like something was missing. I wanted him in me again. Then the knob was at the portal once more, and pressing into me. This time it slipped in more easily, my hole already stretched by its previous inroads.

Again he drove it deep into me, and again withdrew — and again, and again. Each withdrawal and encroachment was new pleasure for me, each time better than the last. Now I knew what it was to be fucked!

He sped up in time with my moans of pleasure and my pushing back to receive him. Soon he began to pant with the effort. We fat men get out of breath easily! But his panting wasn't just from exertion. He was coming inside me. I could feel his spasms inside me and clenched my asshole around his shaft to squeeze every drop out of his tool and into my hole.

It seemed to me that he was coming forever. Again and again I felt his tremors in my depths. Finally he pulled out of me and flopped down beside me on the bed.

"Fantastic! he said. "You have such a nice tight hole. Just let me get my breath, then you can do me if you want."

I wanted! Just as I had never been fucked by a man till now, I had also never fucked a guy. The thought of it sent my swollen cock to throbbing.

Hank handed me the little tube of lube he had used.

"Put a little of this on your dick and in my hole," he told me. He got up on his hands and knees, presenting his hairy ass to me. I thought I would be turned off by a man's hairy ass, but it actually turned me on even more!

I did as he had done to me, and smeared lube on and in his hole. I positioned my dickhead at the inviting orifice which was winking at me.

"Don't worry about hurting me," hank told me. "I've had quite a few dicks in me over the years!"

I pushed my hips forward and with ease my dick opened his asshole and slipped inside. The feeling of his ass muscles clenching around my knob was something I'd never felt before, something fantastic! It was all I'd imagined butt-fucking would be like and more.

"Oh, that feels good," he told me. "Slide it in some more."

I pushed forward and watch my dick disappear into his asshole. That sight alone was total pleasure, let alone the wonderful, tight, warm feel of it. I was in heaven!

I began to move my hips rhythmically, riding my cock in and out of Hank's ass. We might be a couple of fat boys, but we could still manage to fuck each other and give each other great pleasure.

And this was a greater pleasure than I had ever known!

It was culminated by an even greater thrill — when my cock and balls worked together to pump my seed into my new friend. I shot spurt after spurt deep into his butt, and with every spasm that went through my body, Hank cried, "Yes! Yes!"

When I was spent, and we lay side by side in bed in Hank's room, Hank leaned over and kissed me once more.

"That was great sex," he told me. "It's like we were made for each other."

"Yes," I agreed. "I loved making love to you."

"You going back to your room? Or do you want to stay the night with me?

"I'll stay the night," I told him, fondling his dick beneath the covers.

"Good," he said. "Maybe we can do it again before we go down for the breakfast meeting."

"I'm sure we can," I assured him. "Have you ever thought of living in Winnipeg?' I asked him. "I have an opening for an Assistant Sales Manager - no more on-the-road work."

"Mmm, sounds interesting," Hank agreed, and we kissed and cuddled some more before we drifted off to sleep.

A little unconventional behaviour can lead to wonderful new things sometimes!

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