Mr Jones and Killer

I really didn't plan it.

I slowly built my basement railroad in modular boxes, but the sexy stuff just happened by accident.

Jim first mentioned the pink granite tunnel looked like the train was getting a blow job.

Mike first noticed the figure 8 at one end, and the long middle run, with a circle on the end, looked like a hard dick! ○===8

I usually run the trains in my basement, while in my skivvy shorts, ...Snackin', or Jackin'.

I was jacking off, while running the layout one night, and I noticed a shadow, and rustling at a basement window, between Mr. Jones' house and mine.

He is a nice looking, fighting-fit, retired, war vet, widower.

Wearing only my gape-fly boxers, I rushed out the back way. To catch the peeping-Tom in the act.

Mr. Jones, wearing a dark green robe, was crawling around on the ground.

"Oh! Mr. Jones, it's you!"

"I wasn't spying on you, I'm  looking for Killer."

(Killer was his, too friendly, and energetic, Jack Russel Terrier.)

"You need help?"

"Oh, I don't want to interrupt you with what you're doing."

(As I digested how he worded, how much he witnessed...I saw Killer asleep inside his window sill.)

"That son of a bitch." I jokingly said, pointing to that doggy in the window.

"Killer!" He said gleefully.

"Dog found." I added.

"Why don't you come on down? It's more fun when others are joining in." I invited.

(Mr.) John Herbert/Family Guy



"Oh I couldn't. I haven't in years."

"It's like riding a bicycle, once you start it keeps getting better."

Now, if the old cadre saw me jacking off, he will think I'm talking about some JO fun.

If, on the other hand, only saw me with a train set up in the basement, he will think I'm offering train fun.

"I was getting ready for a shower, when I opened the door for Killer to come in." He looked about and whispered, "I got on nothing but, this robe and slippers." opening the front enough to see he was nekkid beneath, ...while holding the other side to hide his pride. "I'm not presentable for a social call."

"Nonsense! I wouldn't mind if you knocked on the back door stark naked, to borrow a cup of sugar."

"I haven't done much running around naked since the military but, hell then, let's  see what trouble we can get into." He slipped a hand on my bare shoulder, and we walked down the back stairs into my basement.

I sat back at my barstool, my boxer's fly gaped open, on cue, my dick peeked out, and my balls were snuggly lifted into a tight bulge.

"You've got a nice set there, Paul."

"I still get the occasional complement." As flirty and ambiguous as I dared, I added, "Besides, It's usually more fun to play with the other boy's toys."

I noticed a bulge pressing under the robe of the ancient stud.

"I gotta tell ya, I can't wait to get my hands on it." He surprisingly added.

I had repositioned the gaping fly of my shorts when I knew it was only him out there in the dark...and as I said, "I'll just sit on this stool, and you can go for it." ...and sat down the fly gapped half-opened, again, right on cue.

The Train controller sat on a small stand right in front of him.

He hesitated, but, untied his robe, and reached into my fly.

"Your barn door's open, ...I found two eggs and a poullet." He rubbed and tugged my dick, as his hooded-head played peekaboo with the robes' heavy folds.

"Your robe came untied. Here, let me quickly cover your dick, until you can get it hidden." I slid my hand onto the uncut weiner, at once getting a feel of the girth and strength, and a sense of it's actual length.

I kept going until his orbs were revealed to me, one at a time.

"Careful! That's the real one."

"Oh? How so?"

"I got a purple heart, by losing a pink nut." 

I re-hefted the implant nut, yep feels smooth all over. "Well, that's a scar you can't  telk the grandkids about."

Now me, and the guys, JO on occasion, but, I felt a need to suck on Dan Jones' cock.

When I did, he first jerked it back out of my mouth. "You don't hafta..."

I spread the robe and reached around to his butt pulling him in, all while staring down the still young-looking, and moderately-stiff, pecker, unchanged since his military days.

I again plopped it into my face, until it bent into my throat, and pubes mashed my nose.

"Awe, ha, ah. That's the farthest anyone has gotten."

I did it several more slow times, until my need to breathe overwhelmed me. I began a fervent jack-blow mode, until he shot a hot load of one-ball cum, hosing my throat.

"Sorry, it just went off."

"I wanted it to."

"Can I still play with yours?" He meekly asked.

I dropped my shorts to my ankles. "I got all night."

If you enjoy my BJ/JO storytelling,  tell your buddies, (if not shoot me an email.)
If you've  had similar experiences, comment below.

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