Hairy Older Gay Men Novels & Stories

I worked and he had my juice all over his balls. We cleaned up and went for breakfast, hit a drug store and bought the sexiest lube they had. haha. We took a detour through a park holding hands and occasionally ducking behind some bushes and kissing up a storm and rubbing each other from the outside. It was obvious we had to race back to the apartment and get back into bed. We're a prime example of how horny two middle aged straight men can be for each other. Wow. I was so fucking horny it was ridiculous.

"Right. Look! He's cut your favorite cheese for you. He's so in love with you." "Yeah. He loves no one but you." People always emphasized what they lacked. Evan, at 17, knew that actions spoke louder than words. But he seemed to have forgotten this at 27. Wearing a self-deprecating smile, I glanced at Hannah beside him. She sported a head of glorious red hair, perfectly matching her passionate, open, and fiery nature—the very qualities that had taken Evan by storm. Female werewolves seemed to have great bodies, but Hannah had the best body among all of Evan's werewolf girlfriends. My human body certainly wasn't attractive enough for Evan.

Call it love or whatever— but that was ridiculous and fucking weird. My hands tapped over Nyra, while still watching the show. “Babe, how would it look if any of us were found dating a younger guy. I mean— yuck!” “That would totally feel stupid and lame-ass dumb having a fling with a young boy,” she agreed with me. “It's gonna go bad for our reputation. I mean, like, what the fuck is wrong with the beards looking hot men? But a guy younger than us.” “Oh, please,” I rolled my eyes to nobody. “Older Men could satisfy our pussies so good that it’s gonna leave you wanting more. They give splendid pleasure in bed. And that's on period”

Jayler was still shaking his head. “You see, there are different types of gays.” I began stepping into the forefront. It’s time to let Jayler know about the different types of gay that people refer to. “There are bears, jocks, cubs, muscle bears, gym bunnies, otters, twinks.” I went on naming every single type that I know of. And I’m pretty embarrassed to admit the fact that I learned all of these types through my hook-up days and because I’ve slept with possibly each one of the tribe.

He has a smattering of dark hair across his expansive chest and some tribal ink curling around his shoulder. His six pack clenches as he takes off his socks and trousers. I lick my lips as he reveals his thick, hairy thighs—what is it about thick thighs that makes me wet? His cock is at half-mast already, thick and long like I remember. Knowing he’s good-looking, he turns and winks when he catches me staring, his peachy ass flexing. Now I know why girls like older men. Who needs growing boys when you can get a fucking perfect older man with a big cock who knows how to use it?

“What if I get lucky?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Fuck. Toshiro will always be Toshiro. “Alright. But be careful where you put your dick. I don’t want you catching some disease” He snorted. “Like that can ever happen. I’m extremely careful” “Whatever. What do you see in older women anyway?” “They are more experienced” he replied. “Besides, they’re not clingy like high school or college girls. Most of them are either lonely or frustrated because their husbands don’t satisfy them and some just want a handsome guy to warm their bed”

The older men had gawked at my curvy body in my painted-on gown, choking on their wine and blinking severally behind their thick spectacles. “Ooh, la la!” One of the older men had exclaimed when he had first seen me, and I had almost burst into uncontrollable laughter. Of course, his wife had poked him angrily to get him to stop openly drinking up my beautiful provocative body with his vibrant eyes stuck in his hard skull covered with his wrinkly, shrivelled-up skin.

I turn around to meet his chest, and naughtily grabs his balls, "They're soft too." He groans when I cup them, "Don't do it. I still want kids." I ignore his warning and let them roll on my palm, just playing with them like they're two big marbles, "Gay dads are so hot." "Yeah?" "The whole thing about being masculine and sexy but you can't get your hands on them, or the fact they'll never be interested in you, makes them soooo much hotter." Then I realise he's semi-hard, again. But this time I'm not wearing make up, or have my hair curled, not even putting on the corset or fuck-me heels so what gives?

Hesitantly, I follow a herd of people, stopping when the entire ground quakes beneath my feet. “What is that?” Someone asks. “People call them angels, but they look like monsters...” An old man replies. I squeeze between two old men, gaping when I spot the largest boy I’ve ever seen in the town square. He must be over twenty feet tall, easily dwarfing the men from the army even when he is down on his knees. There is cloth around his mouth to keep him from speaking, chains to restrain his clumsy movements. “MOVE!” A man from the army yells.

It was rinse and repeat. It took him a few days to realise why he was doing all of this. He felt utterly alone and he was going through great effort to ensure he was alone. In all honesty, he was a sight for sore eyes, his overgrown hair was sticking out at odd angles from running his fingers through it repeatedly. A recent picture of him had leaked to the media and the female population and population of gay men were torn between his former clean look and his current look where he was spotting an overgrown beard. The younger population voted for his clean look, the older ones were of the opinion that the overgrown beard gave him a more manly look and it was more enticing. He knew because th