The Old Man

The Old Man

I met old man at the sex club on Sunday. He said he was in his early 50s but looked over 60.

Everything about him was baggy. His clothes. His coat. His hat. Even his eyes had bags under them. But he still had fire burning in his loins and a gleam in his eyes.

“Come over here with your fine, tall ass self,” he said, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me close. “I saw that bubble ass you got back there.”

I laugh. “Dude, I’m a top. Why don’t you go fuck that dude over there.”
I motion toward this young, slender black guy who is walking around the club buck naked, his eyes glassy. He looks high as a kite.
“Oh no,” old man says. “He looks kinda weird.”
He turned his attention back to me. “Well, when you get ready to give up that ass, let me know. You just ain’t met the brother that can do it right.”
He didn’t have looks. And he didn’t have clothes. But he did have confidence. That made up for a lot of things.
Later we sit down to watch the football game in the video room and we get to talking.
“Look, you’ve been around awhile. Have down-low brothers always been doing this?”
“Oh yeah man,” he says, laughing.
He talks about growing up in Tidewater Virginia near a military base and all the down-low servicemen he used to meet up with and fuck when he was a teenager and young man.
“There was a lot going on on military bases,” he said. He smiles and his eyes take on a nostalgic, faraway look like all those tight bodies he sexed back in the 1960s and 70s are parading before his eyes at that very moment.
Old man eventually moved to the big city and the chase continued.
It was interesting to talk to him about how dudes hooked up in the olden days before the World Wide Web, cell phones and text messages.
“Men used to join clubs like the Masons and fraternities and shit. A lot of down-low freaking used to go on. And a lot of times the wives knew but if a guy was a good provider they would just turn the other cheek and accept it.
“We used to hook up a lot just by eye contacct back in the day. You would stare a guy down. You always kept your phone number on a piece of paper in your pocket. If you were in mixed company you would walk up to the dude and slide him your number and then arrange to hook up later, We had to do things that way then.
“But when AIDS came around that scared a lot of people and a lot of guys just dropped out of sight,” he continued.
We talked some more and exchanged numbers. I noticed he didn’t get any action but he held cconversations with several other older guys. It was clear they knew each other and enjoyed each other’s company.
Maybe in another 20 years I will be the same way. The tired looking black man hanging out at the sex club, telling the fine young boys what I used to be like when I was young and could still get my dick hard.
Nah…I don’t think so.


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