I Met a Man Who Was Almost Twice My Age

I was twenty-one that June morning. I was sighing in my student flat bedroom while I ate my usual breakfast: a coffee with milk and a piece of toast going cold while I paid it no attention. A mix of sadness and overwhelm was squeezing my chest. I’d been like that for months, but that morning it weighed more than ever.

I was finishing the worst academic year of my entire university life, split between discouragement and failure. Exam season was over, and I’d done miserably. My flatmates had already gone back to their homes. I, on the other hand, was still there.

I didn’t feel like going back and facing my parents. I didn’t know how they’d take my grades. Maybe they wouldn’t be that bad, but no one punished me as harshly as I did myself. That’s why I told them I wanted to stay two or three more days before going back.

Today I want to forget everything. Today I want to fuck, and I couldn’t care less with whom.

In the middle of my desperation, I downloaded one of those hookup apps for men. I set my profile picture as only the lower half of my face, because I was embarrassed to show it all. And that’s how the morning went by.

Anyone who’s ever used that kind of app knows exactly how it works. For a couple of hours I talked to one guy, then another, then another. All the while it was back and forth between cold and hot, until you send the photo where you’re not perfect enough for the person on the other end and they block you without a word. I felt worse than when I’d gotten up, until, after lunch, someone wrote to me.

“Beautiful lips are forbidden.”

The way he opened was completely unlike all the others, and it caught my attention from the very first second. Before replying, I went into his profile to see who I was talking to.

He had no qualms about showing himself fully: a slim man, with a little body hair though not much, a thick beard, short hair, and a steady gaze at the camera, plus a couple of photos of himself with landscapes in the background. His bio was simple, talking about good vibes and encouraging people to write to him. He was the first one all day who gave me a genuinely good feeling, both in the photos and in the way he started the conversation, more original and more natural. Only one small snag appeared in my excitement: he was forty.

Oof, maybe he’s too old, almost twice my age. That kicked off a little inner debate that I was able to shut down right away.

Well, he seems nice, and the truth is I did say I wanted to fuck today and I still do. I’ll reply and see where it goes.

From the very first minute we got on wonderfully. There was good chemistry and no shortage of conversation at any point. Everything about him kept giving me a very good impression. It’s true that that day I wanted to fuck and I was willing to lower my standards quite a bit to make it happen. And yet this guy met them all without needing to lower anything. He was respectful, polite, made me laugh, and we were both genuinely interested in each other’s lives and hobbies.

I’d already told him about my situation, so he knew I was free and alone. Once the path was clear, he asked the question.

“Do you feel like doing something today? I can cycle over wherever you want.”

He lived several kilometers away. To be able to message me from that far away, he had to pay for the app’s premium version. I lived in one of the university neighborhoods, packed with users. Anyone who’s suffered with these apps knows exactly what I mean.

Hinting at my intentions, I told him about a bar with a terrace “near my place” (in reality it was right across the street), where he could leave his bike without trouble and have a drink.

We agreed to meet there an hour later, to give ourselves time to get ready. I showered and trimmed a bit of the hair between my legs, which had grown more than usual from months of disuse. I don’t like shaving completely, but I don’t like leaving it entirely to its own devices either.

Before the hour was up, I was already waiting outside the terrace, in an old tracksuit — yes, that was how my life was those months — with a cigarette in my hand. I was pretty nervous; I’d never met up with someone who was so much older than me.

The terrace faced a crossroads, and I stubbornly tried to guess which street he’d appear from. I was staring fixedly in that direction when someone spoke to me from behind.

“Adrián? Is that you? Hi,” he greeted me with a huge smile.

In person he seemed more handsome and younger than in the photos. It was a pleasant surprise that helped me relax, just like the way he greeted me, as if we already knew each other from before.

We sat on the terrace and ordered beers and a couple of tapas. We kept talking, this time more calmly, about our lives. I have to admit I exaggerated a little about myself and my plans; my self-esteem wasn’t in a state for bragging, but I wanted him to like me.

The conversation flowed the whole time, and neither of us brought up sex. I was very comfortable with him, and I hope he was with me too. Though I don’t know whether, like me, he was already imagining how he’d devour my mouth and then how I’d suck his cock.

I was grateful to chance for putting this man in my path on the very day I needed it most. He was turning me on without talking about sex or hinting at anything, already making me imagine what his cock would be like.

He looks like he’s got a big one.

I don’t want you to think, dear reader, that all I was thinking about was fucking. I was genuinely enjoying the conversation, and that turned me on even more. I’ve always had a weakness for intelligent men who know how to get in my head.

The rhythm broke for a moment when he said:

“We’ve finished the beers. Want another round?”

“I’d like another one, but if you want we can have it at my place.”

Before replying, his smile gave him away. Looking me in the eyes, he told me of course. We hadn’t said anything, and at the same time everything had already been said.

He left his bike chained up near the terrace as soon as he checked that my building entrance was ten meters away.

I lived on the third floor, so once inside we waited for the elevator and went up. Even though we were both horny and knew perfectly well why we were going up, neither of us dared make the first move until we got to the door.

Once in the flat, I left my things in my room to empty my pockets. Then I went back toward the living room, where I expected to find him. To get there I had to cross the hall, and he was still there. His gaze gave him away again. He was smiling at me, but it was a smile mixed with desire.

I already knew what was going to happen, and my face probably got there before my actions. In a matter of seconds we were locked in a tongue kiss that went on for a good while. He, a little taller than me, had his hands on my waist. I held him by the nape of the neck, pulling his head toward mine.

Without thinking, we went to the nearest place, the living room. We dropped onto one of the sofas, eating each other’s mouths and rubbing our whole bodies. Neither of us dared go further; we still weren’t touching any intimate area.

I was the one who took that step. I needed to know what that cock was like already, although I started over his pants. With jeans it was hard to make out the details, but it was crystal clear he had a serious erection.

He responded by yanking my T-shirt off and throwing it in a direction I didn’t even bother looking at. Then he started exploring my bare torso. Back then I had a bit of extra weight, not too much, and I’ve always been fairly hairy, so his hands kept getting lost among my skin and hair.

Shortly after, I took his off too and saw that torso in the flesh, the one I already knew from the photos. He had a line of hair running from above his navel down to where it disappeared into his pants. I would soon confirm that line merged with his pubic hair. A good friend of mine always calls that “the little trail,” and I’m just as into it as she is.

Then he lunged at me. I ended up lying on my back on the sofa with his body on top of mine. His cock, hard, began rubbing against mine, which was about to burst through the fabric. He nibbled at my neck, shoved his tongue into my mouth, and played with my nipples and chest hair.

I took advantage of the position to grab his ass, of which I still knew nothing and about which I was soon going to find out. I grabbed it with both hands and found two small, soft cheeks that were a pleasure to knead.

When he sat up to pull my pants down, I had to stop him.

“Wait, let’s go to my room. I don’t feel like keeping going on the sofa where my flatmates also sit.”

And that’s how we ended up in my room, which looked out onto an interior courtyard between several buildings. It was starting to get dark, so I pulled the blind down. I don’t know if anyone ended up seeing the scene: me shirtless with an erection trying to burst through my tracksuit, lifting the fabric like a tent and letting the base of my pubic hair peek out.

“Your neighbors are going to miss quite a show,” he said with a laugh.

I just smiled back and sat him on my bed. His jeans had been in the way for too long, so I pulled them down. I left his boxer briefs on, because I like taking things slowly. I prefer to see first how the cock strains against that thinner fabric. Behind the cotton, you could already make out what my mind was imagining: a big cock, and apparently circumcised. The fabric was stained with precum, which was normal after all that time.

I couldn’t wait any longer and yanked his boxers down in one go, taking the opportunity to pull off his pants and socks too and leave him completely naked. I could see him all at once now, though the first thing I noticed was his cock.

I was right: it was huge. So big that, for a moment, it had the opposite effect to the one I expected. It was so long and thick that the pulse of his erection was almost hypnotic. Well, I thought, I’ll enjoy it anyway. I didn’t take long to spit on his glans and start jerking him off, while he leaned back and caressed my face.

While I pumped his cock, I glanced at his balls. Jesus, they were huge too, and hung in a way that impressed me and turned me on in equal measure.

Big balls are one of my weaknesses; I don’t know whether that counts as a fetish or not, but they get to me too much. So they were the first thing I took into my mouth, without stopping pumping his cock.

That’s when his moans started, while I treated myself to my feast.

When I decided I’d had enough of the balls, I raised my head to the tip of his cock. I started licking it slowly, tracing the glans without any rush. I was looking for the best way to enjoy a cock too big for me, while figuring out how he liked to be sucked.

Just when I was going to take as much of it into my mouth as I could, he stopped me.

“You’ve been down there for a while now. Let me go on.”

I stood up and let him undress me. He took all my clothes off at once and my cock ended up at his face’s level. With my clothes still around my ankles, he started sucking without warning. Fuck, did I need that. An electric current ran through me with the first touch of his tongue. Now he was stroking my balls while taking all my cock into his mouth — mine was quite a bit more modest than his — and making tongue movements I couldn’t even begin to understand. I suppose all those extra years also meant an experience gap impossible to match.

He grabbed my ass with both hands, pulling me toward him, while my cock rammed into his throat and strings of saliva came out of his mouth. Then he used all that saliva to bring pleasure to my glans while sucking my balls. He had such mastery that I couldn’t stop moaning and I feared I might cum at any moment.

And I didn’t cum because he stopped. He finished taking my clothes off and, stroking my cock slowly, spoke to me.

“We haven’t talked about how far we want to go. Are you top or bottom?”

“Well, I’ve never tried being a bottom, and I don’t feel like it either. I’d rather be top.”

“Mmmm, I’m usually top too, though I make exceptions sometimes. Let’s try it.”

“With my cock I don’t think you’ll have a problem, haha.”

“I’m sure I won’t. Listen, this is better. I’ve got a huge cock that looks great in photos, but I’ve lost a lot of opportunities because of its size. Don’t pay attention to porn or to what you see on these apps: only the guys with the biggest cocks show them off, and then they’re useless for anything.”

I imagine he said that last part sensing some kind of insecurity on my side. I appreciated the words.

I took condoms and lube out of the cupboard, though before that I wanted to fully test that gigantic cock. I still hadn’t sucked it beyond the glans, and I was pure curiosity to see how far something like that would fit in me.

I started little by little, sucking the glans and moving forward a centimeter, and another, and another, until I felt it hitting the back of my throat. It had filled my entire mouth, and I confirmed it when the sound of my gag came out completely muffled. I’d taken a little more than half of his cock and I was already at my limit.

Then I asked him to get on all fours on the bed. Since he didn’t have much bottom experience, we decided to go slowly. I coated my index finger with lube and started massaging his ass. With my other hand, to help him relax, I massaged his glans, also slicked with lube.

Not long after, I was able to slide in a second finger. He wasn’t as tight as I’d thought. Before I knew it, I was moving both fingers inside him while he moaned and asked me to put my cock in already.

In that same position I put on a condom and started easing into him little by little. It wasn’t going to be difficult, because my cock isn’t very long or very thick. Even so, I didn’t want to hurt him at any point. He was a top offering me his ass, and I wanted to treat it with all the tenderness it deserved.

As I said, I got in without too much trouble. He soon asked me to start pumping, and I, carefully, began to move.

He was giving himself a good wank using my lube. The slapping of his hand was perfectly audible, as were both of our moans.

“Give it to me a bit faster.”

“Hit me harder.”

In no time I was pounding his ass while he masturbated. But I decided to switch to missionary: I couldn’t finish this fuck without seeing that cock and those balls bouncing with each thrust, and I wanted to be the one jerking him off while I buried myself all the way in.

That’s how we spent the last few minutes. I was hammering his cock, he had smeared lube on his balls to stimulate them — some of it ended up on my stomach from the collision of our bodies — and his ass was taking a hard pounding, at his own request.

His orgasm came suddenly and it was astonishing. He barely raised the pitch of his moans as he closed his eyes to enjoy it to the fullest. That contrasted with the sheer enormity of his load. I couldn’t even count the jets he shot out at full force. His cum ended up on his face, on my pillow, and spread across his chest and stomach. Later, when changing the sheets, I found two more stains. I’ve never seen a load like that again.

I liked it so much that I couldn’t take it anymore and I unloaded inside his ass, letting everything go into the condom. Mine was abundant too, more than usual for me.

I took off the condom, dropped it on the floor, and sat next to him. Looking at his torso covered in semen, I said:

“Dude, I’d never seen a load like that in my fucking life. Is that normal?”

“Haha, yeah, people tell me that a lot. I’m a milkman. People have always told me I’d do well as a porn actor because of the size of my cock and my loads. But I don’t want to do that.”

“Jesus, it was insane. You could probably fill half a glass.”

“If I go a week without cumming, I fill almost half a glass. Look, I’ve got photos.”

If someone showed me that photo today, I’d think it was made with artificial intelligence. It was outrageous. With that stuff, you could have soaked biscuits.

We got dressed and went out to the living room to collect the clothes that were still missing and smoke. I smoked a couple of cigarettes and he smoked a joint while we kept talking about life and, again, avoided the sexual topic.

We didn’t speak again, even though we exchanged phone numbers. Soon after, I started thinking again about the age difference, and as for him, I don’t know what happened. I still have his number saved on my phone and I don’t feel like deleting it. And even though I still have my doubts about the age thing, today I keep a good memory of a bright moment in one of the worst stages of my life.