An Oysterman’s Tale

My name is Sam Houston. Yea, it’s kind of a famous name, but I’m not that Sam. No, I live along the Gulf Cost of Florida not far from Port St. Joe. I got me a trailer and an old flat bottom boat and a brand new Johnson 140hp motor. I’m an Oysterman just like my daddy was before me. I’m 71 and been oystering for 54 years. And I’m not about to retire.

I never been married. And I didn’t really know why until a couple of months ago. For you folks that don’t know about oystering it’s not the easiest of jobs. I get up before daylight and haul my boat over to the pubic landing and launch it. Then I go to my secret spot and start poking the muddy bottom of the Apalachicola river with a long pole until I feel it strike an oyster shell. Then I use my special rake to harvest the oyster. Sounds easy but it’s hard work and I usually need a drink after my day’s work is done.

I stop in at the Top Hat in downtown Port St. Joe. It’s fancy bar not like most or the redneck bars in the area. They have a full liquor license and believe it or not, I order Martinis. Saw a movie once when I was young and saw this rich guy drinking a Martini and I said if I ever found me a place that served them I was going to drink Martinis. Well the Top Hat serves Martinis and I have been going there since they opened the doors.

You see there are some rich people in Port St. Joe from the paper company and they come there to drink. I just love to go there and watch how them rich people act. I don’t put on not suit and tie like they do and I don’t sit up at the bar cause the bartender doesn’t like me to even come in. But if I sat back in the corner and drink my Martinis he leaves me alone.

I started seeing this old rich man coming in the bar about two months ago. He was nice looking. About as old as me but he sure in Hell looked better than me. I mean I been working in the sun so many years my skin is like leather and I’ve got more lines in my face than a damn road map. I still got all my hair. It ain’t red like it used to be. It’s gray now.

Well, this rich old man had pure white hair and skin as fresh as a baby’s so I knew he hadn’t done a lick of work in his life, least not hard work like I do. Maybe he works pushing a pencil or on a computer but he don’t do dog work like I do.

I don’t know what it was about this old man. But damn if I didn’t start looking for him to come in the bar and when he didn’t I would get kind of depressed. And when I would be out digging them oysters up I would be thinking about the old rich man in his expensive suit and tie sitting at the bar drink his Martini and damn if my old pecker wouldn’t get rock hard. I can’t count the times I had to pull that big old thing out and beat off.

Then about a month ago, I started noticing that the old rich man would glance over at me from time to time. Then my old pecker started getting hard right there in the Top Hat. Well, I don’t want to brag but my old pecker is plenty big. I guess I could have been another Johnny Holms if I had known about such things when I was younger. Anyway I am only telling you this because when it gets hard it really makes my Levis bulge out at the crotch.

I started getting the idea that maybe the old rich man was looking at my crotch. Caused he would look away quickly whenever I would glance up and catch him looking at me. Well, heck, that only made my old pecker that much harder until I finally decided I better go in the bathroom and try to position it so that it didn’t show off so much.

The bathroom at the Top Hat has one of those old fashion urinals that looks like an elongated bathtub. I was standing there trying to piss with my big pecker so hard that I couldn’t force a drop of piss of it when the bathroom door opened and in walked the old rich man. Damn if he didn’t step right up to the urinal beside me. And here I was hold a foot of hard pecker in my hand like I was jacking off or something.

I didn’t know what in Hell to do. I didn’t want the bartender to throw me out for jacking off in the bathroom but I had to piss like a race horse, so I just stayed there holding my big hard on and trying to piss as the rich old man pulled out his little pecker. It was one of those cut jobs like all the youngsters have these days. I knew I was asking for trouble looking down at the old man’s pecker but I just couldn’t help myself. Hell a woman’s pussy never affected me like seeing the old man short stubby pecker did.

And damn if I didn’t shoot off in the urinal! Yea, that’s just what I done. I shot the biggest load of my life right there in front of the old rich man. And when I finally finished cuming I stole a glance over and he was smiling at me.

“Sorry, sir...I got this sort of strange condition. I don’t mean no disrespect.” I told him, as I finally was able to piss.

“I’m glad I was here to see the show.” The old rich man said. Then he reached over and offered me his hand. “My name is Frank.”

“Sam‘s my name, Mister.” I replied. “I do hope you won't tell the bartender about what I just done. He don’t rightly like me coming in here as it is. And if knew I did something like this well this is the only place I can buy a Martini.” I told him.

“Don’t worry, Sam. This is just between the two of us.” The old rich man said as I hurried out of the bathroom.

Well let me tell you that I finished my drink and got out of there as fast as my old legs would carry me before the old man could get finish pissing. And I stayed away from the Top Hat a whole damn week. Even then I figured they would toss me out when I walked in. But nothing happen. The bartender just gave me the same dirty look he had been giving me for years as I sneaked over to the back and took my spot.

And I got to tell you I had suffered something terrible that week of being away. I kept thing about the old rich man so much until my head would hurt. And I jacked off so many times that I couldn’t hard squeeze a drop of cum out of my big old pecker.

Well, I sat there with my Martini and watched the door. I was as nervous as a mother hen thinking that he wouldn’t show up. He did. And the way seeing him made me feel, you would think I was looking at my long lost lover or something.

Then the old man did the damnest thing. He stopped to chat with the bartender a moment and then walked over to where I was sitting. Seeing him coming, I thought, well here goes my ass out of here.

“Hi, Sam. Do you mind if I join you?” He astonished me by asking.

“No, Sir. No, Sir! You sit right down here.” I told him.

He smiled and pulled up the chair nearest me. Then I saw the bartender coming and I tensed up again. But he just placed a Martini down in front of the old man and said. “Any thing else I can get for you, Mr. Taubt?”

“Yes, bring Sam another drink.” The old rich man said without even looking at the bartender.

“Well, sir, I think that’s a first for me.” I told him. He asked me what was a first and I told him that no one had ever bought me a drink in the Top Hat before. He laughed and reached over and patted me on the leg. And damn if my old pecker didn’t harden in a blink of an eye. The old man looked between my legs and laughed a gain. “I see you got that condition again.” He added.

“Well, Sir, I guess you’re the blame.” I said thinking that I might as well be up front and honest with the old man. I just don’t behold dishonest people. He looked sort of puzzled so I added. “Even time I see you I get a hard on.”

He didn’t respond as the bartender came over with my drink. But the moment the bartender left he said. “Thanks. I don’t think any one has ever told me that I affected them in that manner before.” And damn if he didn’t reach over and pat me on the leg again.

I told him if he did that again I might go off like I did in the bathroom. He laughed and said that was something he certainly didn’t want to happen at least not here in the bar. Then damn if he did ask me to come over to this house that he made good Martinis.

Well I woofed down my drink in record time and told him I was ready. And you should of seen the bartender eyes as I walked pass the bar with Frank. You could have knocked him over with a feather.

I started to head for my Ford pickup but the rich old man asked if I would ride with him. Damn if he didn’t have one of those German sport cars. He carried me for some ride through the streets of Port St. Joe. And I can’t even begin to tell you of the mansion he took me to. I’ve only seen houses like his in movies and on TV.

I almost didn’t go inside. Suddenly I didn’t feel like I belonged with him. I told him that and you know what he did. He hugged me right there in his front yard. I hugged him back. Then damn if he didn’t kiss me! I had never been kissed by a man before. But I took to it like a duck to water. Suddenly I realized why I had never gotten married. I’ve kissed a few women in my life but damn if it felt anything like kissing Frank. I actually started crying, if you can believe that.

The old man asked what was wrong and I told him that I was in love with him that was what was wrong. He just hugged me again and led me inside his mansion. I’m not going to describe the inside of the house because it would take me too many pages to tell you about it. Anyway that’s not what was important.

The important thing is he led me to his huge bedroom and started undressing. I never looked on a woman’s body with the lust I felt when he was standing naked before me. He has a little boy size cock but some bull balls hanging between his legs.

Then he watched me undress and when my old pecker popped up when I pulled my shorts down he smiled and told me he wanted me to fuck him. I had never fucked a man before or even thought of doing it, but suddenly it felt right. So we got in bed and started kissing again. I had to fight to keep from cuming just from kissing the old man. Then he started sucking the head of my big old pecker and I really had to think of something else. Finally I had to push him way and tell him if he wanted me to fuck him he better stop what he was doing to me.

Then he rubbed something on my pecker and smeared a little on his asshole and I got between his legs like I would to fuck a woman. He raised his legs and I pressed the head of my pecker against his asshole and started pushing it inside while the old man tossed his head from side to side and moaned worse than a woman.

Damn if his asshole didn’t feel wonderful. Now I know why men fuck men. Hell it’s better than a woman’s pussy. And the old man took my big pecker better than any woman ever had. He took the entire thing up his ass. And then when I stared fucking him he moaned and fucked me back. I shoot off but didn’t even take my pecker out of him. I just kept pumping it into him until I came a second time.

Then knowing that I had to do something for him, I moved down and started sucking his little cock. At first I only did it because I knew it was expected of me. But damn if I didn’t like sucking him. At the end I was enjoying it so much that I didn’t want him to cum but he did. And I didn’t have any problem swallowing his cum.

I spend the night with him. We had sex off and on the entire night. And the next day I missed going out oystering for the first time in thirty years.

I love Frank. And he loves me. I just hate it that I found him so late in life. Hell, we don’t have many years left but damn if we aren’t going to live them last years together. I don’t think I’ll ever teach him to be an oysterman but I guess he’ll never teach me to dress fancy and have those high society manners that he has. But damn if we don’t somehow fit together like a hand in a glove.