Meeting our elderly neighbors Bob and Ann should have been a small blip in my life. It had been a few weeks since the block party when white-haired Bob had invited me to tour his garage, and ended up showing me a bisexual porno from his stash. Somehow I had ended up on my knees in his garage, swallowing his cock.
Actually, I didn’t just swallow it. I had worshipped it. I knelt there and gazed at his 5 inches topped by a purple plum tip and couldn’t stop from inhaling his aroma. That is what freaked me out, my compulsion to keep smelling it, running the tip under my nose and inhaling his musky crotch and balls, and insisting he put his cock all the way in till it hit the back of my throat.
To make things worse, he had brought me to a powerful orgasm by French kissing me while playing with my cock and butthole. I kept telling myself I wasn’t gay, so how had that happened? How had I succumbed to an almost 70-year-old grandpa? I was happily married to a fit, attractive wife. I had let myself go a little, with some paunch, but overall I was active. In our lates 40s we led a typical life.