My name’s Pete. I’m 64, recently widowed and living in a retirement community. I’ve found fun and sexual fulfillment where I didn’t expect to. I’ll tell you how that all came down.
I moved to Senior Meadows shortly after my wife’s passing. I’m not sure what I was looking for, but the circumstances of her death made me want to just walk away from most everything. I retired, a year early, sold the house and moved to the Meadows about two hours drive away from the town where we had lived for many years. Well, when you get the double shock of your wife dying in a car wreck, and her being found mostly undressed, and having suffered head trauma by being pinned between the driver’s bare bottom body and the steering wheel… well you get the picture. The autopsy also showed his semen in her mouth. By the way, the driver was a former neighbor, who I hadn’t seen in years and presumed the same of my dear departed wife.
My head space was somewhere between bitterness and depression. There was no sign of any trouble, our lives had been going smoothly, even including our sex life. What the fuck.
So I was slowly settling in. The property was about 50 condos with different levels of care available. I took the basic, because I was in good health, really all I needed was a place to stay and some new friends. I started going to the gym daily, ending with a run and followed by a cup of coffee in the snack bar. All stuff I did before, just not regularly. Well, except for the jerking off. I didn’t do much of that before the wife died, now my right hand had become my special friend. Not very satisfying, but any port in a storm. Before I met the wife, I was involved with a jerkoff group, maybe something like that would surface here. But I wasn’t optimistic; I’m not really too outgoing, though I’d chat with people on occasion.
On the way back from the gym, there were usually some guys shooting pool in the rec room. I must have been on the same schedule as them, there were some regulars who were there every late morning. Two guys, occasionally another, and sometimes a woman or two. The women changed, but the guys were the same.
About a month after I’d moved in, I was out for my run and caught up with a tall guy who looked, from behind, like the occasional pool player. When I caught up, I said hi and a conversation developed. His name was Frank, and it was the pool player. He invited me to stop and play a game sometime. I’m not much of a pool player, but I enjoy it sometimes. After thinking about it that afternoon, I decided to stop in a couple of days later.
Unbeknownst to me, Frank had reported back to the other guys. They’d been watching me, and sent Frank out for a run to meet up.
When I did drop in, we hit it off pretty well. They were all recent retirees; one (Bill) was married and a former insurance agent. Tom was a programmer, divorced, and Frank had been a manufacturing manager, also a widower. The conversation wandered all over, including the usual boastful remarks about who had the smallest dick. Oddly enough, they all laid claim to the title, but you could tell it was just bullshit. At one point, Phil seemed to be looking at Tom’s butt; when I noticed this he shifted his glance in the way that guys do when they get caught peeking – as if they were just looking around.
After a couple of games, I went home, but not until they’d invited me to Tom’s place for their weekly poker game. Bill advised me to bring plenty of money (laughs around) – in the form of pennies and nickels, and whatever I liked to drink.
I arrived at the appointed hour with my jar of coin and a pint bottle of bourbon. We must have stood around shooting the shit for an hour before Tom got out the cards. The guys still didn’t move to the table just yet. Then Bill said, “Pete, let me level with you. We do play cards here, but that’s the excuse we give. We actually put on a porn movie and enjoy the show.”
“No issues on that from me,” I replied.
But he continued, “And we sit around and play with ourselves too.”
That caught my attention, and I said, “Really. Let me ask you, do you expose yourselves?”
Pause, then Tom said, “Yeah, actually we do. So if you aren’t down with this and you want to take off, we’d just ask that you keep it to yourself. Bill’s wife wouldn’t understand.”
Three pairs of eyes on me, and you could tell they were wondering how I’d reply. “To tell you the truth,” I said, “I was in a masturbation club at one time, and was thinking about looking into it here in my new situation.” The three looks of apprehension all instantly turned to relaxed smiles. Frank laughed, and said to the others, “What did I say, guys? ” Then to me, “You were pretty quiet but I had a hunch you’d be open to it.” That brought a good laugh, and Tom went over to start the movie.
Bill asked me about the JO club. I explained that about five guys met every other week at one guy’s house. We looked at porn magazines – this was before the internet – and occasionally watched a movie. Before the evening was through, we all enjoyed each other’s orgasms and our own. I especially liked seeing the other guys shoot their loads, sometimes we would cum nearly together on the host’s glass coffee table. That was an inspiring mess. Then one guy’s wife found out and raised an awful stink, so we disbanded. After that I met my wife and didn’t have the need anymore. Bill asked, “So it was non-contact? You just jerked off?”
I explained, “That was the agreement. If someone wanted to take it further, they did so away from the group. I kept to the masturbation. Like you guys.”
Now came the real awkward pause, then Tom said, “Well…”
The realization hit me slowly. Tom continued, “It goes beyond that for us. We actually like to touch, give each other hand jobs, and are a bunch of cocksuckers too. Not much into anal, though. So again, if you’re not interested – or if you want to watch once to check it out – we’re ok with that.”
In honesty with myself, I’d almost gotten in contact with a former JO buddy once. I was curious for sure. And if guys give the best blowjobs as you hear, this could be interesting. So I answered, “I’ll try it up to handjobs this once and see if it works for me.” Tom smiled and put his hand on my shoulder, then said, “Let’s go to the home theater.” It was in the basement, and Tom kept his hand on me. We grabbed our drinks and walked there. Not only did I not object to Tom’s touch, I liked it. I guess I was missing the human contact.