Walter's Phoenix
“
I
t's all bullshit, every last word and picture of it,” Walter spat out at no one in particular. He wiped the trail of spittle from his chin. “Bullshit!”
“Walter,” Jeremy scolded, “we've had this discussion before. You simply cannot throw these tantrums and tirades at every session. It makes it uncomfortable for everyone else in the group.”
Jeremy was fifty years Walter's junior, and Walter hated nothing more than to be reprimanded by him or told what to do or how to act. At seventy-five years old, Walter had lived a full life, and understood it. What did this punk know about real life? And what the hell was he doing facilitating a group called “The Excitement of a Fulfilled Gay Life”? How could he know anything at all about a fulfilled life of any kind? He was barely out of diapers.
“I'm sorry,” Walter said, not meaning a word of it. “But that movie is pure nonsense.”
“I loved it,” Christopher said. He was a freshman in college. “I think it's a wonderful representation of gay life in the twenty-first century. This is how it works today.”
“It's that easy?” Walter asked. “You walk down the street and see a cute boy, you stop and talk with him for less than five minutes, and then you go home and have sex with him?”
“Yes,” several members of the group chimed in at once.
“I've never seen it happen,” Walter said defiantly.
“How often do you walk Santa Monica Boulevard in the middle of the day?” Christopher asked.
“I don't. I live more than a mile from that area.”
“So do I,” another member said, “but I make a point of cruising the Boulevard almost every day, and I get laid almost every day.”
Walter wrinkled his nose, waved his arm dismissingly at the young man, and crossed his arms as he looked away.
“I sense you're a little anxious about this movie and the discussion, Walter,” Jeremy said. “What exactly bothers you about it?”
Walter thought about the question for a moment before answering. “It's too easy. You kids, all of you here in this group, take it all for granted. You just walk up to some guy, whip out your dick, get off, and then move on. There's no thought of consequences or the possibility of something more. And there's no appreciation of the fight that us older gay men fought to get you to this place. Had I known the fight would have led to something like this, I wouldn't have bothered.”
“Oh great, here we go again,” Christopher said. “
In my day we had to walk a mile to school in the snow with no shoes.
”
This drew laughter from the crowd, and that was enough to get Walter on his feet and reaching for his coat.
“Please, Walter, don't leave,” Jeremy said. “No one here means to be disrespectful. We just have some different dynamics and perspectives here that lead to some meaningful conversation.”
“I'm tired. I want to go home.”
“Will you be back next week?”
“I don't know.” Walter slipped his coat on.
“Can I ask you one more question?”
“What?” He said tiredly as he exhaled loudly.
“Have you ever been in love, Walter?”
Walter looked at the younger man leading the group, and then around the room at the other dozen or so young men watching him with varied expressions of boredom. Then he buttoned his coat and walked out the door.
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“I'm not sure we should be doing this,” Robert said. “What if the captain comes in?
“Relax,” Walter said. “He's taking a nap. It's like clockwork. He'll be by in an hour and fifteen minutes. That gives us plenty of time.”
He leaned in and kissed Robert as he unbuttoned the younger man's shirt. Robert had just turned twenty-one two weeks ago, a month after the ship had set out for the South Pacific. Walter had been infatuated with him from the moment he laid eyes on the boy. Not that Walter was that much older than the kid. He was only twenty-five himself. But Robert was fresh off the farm in a small Nebraska town and as naïve as anyone Walter had met. Walter was from Seattle, and was a little wiser in the ways of the world. Young enough to be adventurous and seek out a little private fun every now and then, but wise enough not to get caught.
It turned out Robert was much more hungry for sex than Walter had imagined. He ripped his clothes off in seconds and dropped to his knees in front of Walter's crotch. He unbuttoned Walter's pants and pulled them to his knees. Then he reached inside Walter's shorts and pulled out his cock.
Up to this point, Walter was sure the kid had never sucked a cock in his life. Maybe never even seen one other than his own. But now he was convinced otherwise. Robert lapped at the heavy cock for about a minute, and had it fully hard and throbbing. When it stood at full attention, Robert sucked the head into his mouth then slowly swallowed Walter's dick until it was buried deep in his throat.
“Holy shit, man,” Walter whispered as he gasped. “Where the hell did you learn that?”
“Neighbor kid back home and I used to fool around a little. You like?”
“Fuck yeah, I like,” Walter said. “Suck it some more.”
Robert sucked Walter's cock for several minutes, and much to his surprise, Walter found himself getting close. He'd never been able to cum from a blowjob.
“You better stop, kid. I'm getting close.”
Instead of stopping, Robert wrapped his hand around Walter's balls and squeezed them gently as he sucked harder on the fat cock.
“Robert?” Walter asked, quickly running out of breath.
Robert looked up and winked at Walter as he swallowed more of the cock and squeezed it with his throat muscles.
Walter grabbed Robert by the shoulders and moaned loudly as he poured his jizz down Robert's throat. It seemed to go on forever, and by the time he finished, his knees buckled and he slumped to the floor, pulling his cock from Robert's throat.
Robert lay down next to Walter, and leaned up to kiss him on the mouth. Walter could still taste his own cum on Robert's tongue, and that made his cock stir again, even though it had just been spent.
Robert and Walter fell in love immediately and spent every moment they could together for the next two years. It would have lasted forever, had Robert not been killed in action right in front of Walter's eyes.
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Walter woke up with tears on his cheeks and a lump in his throat. He hadn't dreamed about Robert in several years. Goddamn Jeremy for asking if he'd ever been in love. What fucking business was it of his anyway?
But Walter noticed a strange tingling in his cock. It almost felt hard, and he anxiously pulled at the elastic waistband of his sweats to check it out. No such luck. It just lay there against his leg, as flaccid as it had been for the past five years. It seemed a little plumper than usual, but Walter figured that was more wishful thinking than anything else. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had an erection, and even less what it felt like to have one.
He lay on the sofa for a few more moments, then took a deep breath and forced himself up and into the kitchen. He was hungry, but had ordered pizza the night before and it hadn't agreed with him. Chinese food agreed with him even less, so he found himself in a dilemma. He hadn't cooked in over ten years. There wasn't much of a chance there was anything in the pantry, but he opened it and looked anyway. An expired box of cereal, half a box of stale crackers and two scoops of Skippy peanut butter. Not much promise there.
So he could either go out for dinner or starve to death. If he were completely honest with himself, he'd admit the latter sounded more appealing. But he was stubborn and never took the easy way out with anything.
He slowly went about his routine of getting dressed. First he put on his socks, and walked around the room twice to make sure they didn't slide down his skinny calves. Then he slipped on a pair of boxers and headed to the closet. He decided on a pair of brown slacks and plaid shirt. Then he put on his favorite blue bow tie and fedora.
His favorite restaurant was only three blocks away, so he walked to the Patriot Buffet and sat at his regular table. He was right in the middle of enjoying his roast beef with mashed potatoes and steamed carrots when someone came up to him and addressed him by name. Walter was not pleased with interruptions, and at first didn't look up from his plate.
“Walter,” the guy repeated, louder this time.
Walter looked up and saw Jeremy, the leader of the group at the Gay and Lesbian Center he'd been to earlier that evening.
“What is it?”
“Hey, I just wanted to come over and say hi.”
“Hi.”
“I'm here with my granddad. This is his favorite restaurant.”
“Mine too, but only when the food is actually hot. Which it tends not to be when one allows himself the habit of conversation during dinner.”
“Walter, don't be such a grouch. You can go back and get as much hot food as you want. I wanna bring my grandfather over here and introduce you.”
“Nope.”
“Why not.”
“I'm not interested. I wanna finish my dinner, have a little desert, and a cup of decaf and then go home and go to bed.”
“It'll only take a minute, Walter, and I'm not taking no for an answer,” Jeremy said, then walked back to his table. He spoke with the old man sitting across the booth from him for a moment, and then called the waitress over and spoke to her and pointed toward Walter.
“God damn it,” Walter mumbled as he saw Jeremy and his grandfather leave their plates behind and walk toward him.
“Hey, Walter,” Jeremy said jovially as he sat next to Walter and the older man sat on the other side of the booth. “This is my grandpa, Micky.”
“Mmmph,” Walter said as he nodded toward Jeremy's grandfather.
“Nice to meet you, Walter,” Micky said, and extended his hand.
Walter sighed and shook the hand in front of him, just as the waitress brought over two plates filled with fresh, hot food and set them in front of Jeremy and his grandfather. He wanted to be annoyed at Jeremy for this invasion of his privacy. But the truth was, it felt kind of nice not to be sitting alone. And to tell a bigger truth, Walter found himself somewhat attracted to Micky. Or at least he thought that was what was happening. It'd been so long, he wasn't quite sure anymore.
“So Jeremy tells me you attend the gay men's social group he heads up over at the Center,” Micky said.
“Yes, that's right,” Walter said as he made a concerted effort to eat slower.
“You've got a hell of a lot more balls than I do,” Micky said, and took a spoonful of soup. “All those young kids just get on my nerves.”
“Oh, they get on my nerves, too,” Walter said, “especially this punk you call a grandson.” Jeremy and Micky both laughed, and Walter surprised himself at his successful attempt at humor. “But that just means I have to go all the more.”
“But we don't have anything in common with them,” Micky said.
“We have more in common with them than you think,” Walter said. “At least I do. I guess I shouldn't just assume that you're ...”
No one said anything for almost a full minute, and Walter was just about to excuse himself and walk home.
“Yes, I am a confirmed bachelor, I'm afraid. Not so much afraid of being a homosexual, but of being a confirmed bachelor. It's more than just a phrase at our age, I suppose.”
“I know what you mean. It does get lonely sometimes.” Walter noticed the glint in Micky's eyes. “Although being alone does at times have its advantages.”
“True.”
“So, Walter,” Jeremy butted in. “Grampa was just saying he might be willing to try the group out next week if he weren't the only elderly gentleman there.”
“Now, Jeremy, I didn't quite say that,” Micky said.
Jeremy looked at his grandfather and raised an eyebrow. “I've been trying to get him to come to the group for a while now, but he won't ever come,” Jeremy said to Walter “Grampa, if Walter were there, would you come?”
Micky and Walter both kicked Jeremy under the table.
“Come on, Walter. You're always complaining that no one in the group understands what it was like being gay when you were young, and that none of the representations we have in the group are real. This will be your chance to have someone collaborate with and understand you. And grampa, you're always saying it's depressing to leave the house because there are only young kids outside anymore and you get tired of being the dinosaur. This is the perfect solution for both of you.”