Carlos soon became an integral part of my rehabilitation. Living in an assisted-living environment with slowly decaying senior citizens wears on a person. It can get pretty depressing. My friendship with Carlos made the time pass a little easier. He was the relief that I needed. Just what the doctor ordered.

I saw Carlos nearly every day, at the very least passing each other in the hall. But, on a good day, we'd have our private time together. Bath time became an erotic adventure for me as he indoctrinated me in the world of gay sex. Each encounter was a new learning experience.

Carlos was the first guy to suck me off. But by no means the first person to blow me. Along with a few girls from my catholic high school days, my wife went down on me fairly regularly. However, none of them provided the same level of quality as Carlos. He was an oral master with unbridled enthusiasm. I've heard it said that nobody gives better head than a man. Now I had evidence.

A couple of days after my first knob-job at the hands of my new Latin lover, Carlos invited me into the bathroom and closed the door behind us. As I leaned on my walker he put his left hand on my cheek and kissed me deeply. Then I felt his other hand reach for my cock. I interrupted him long enough to position myself on the counter and push the walker aside. Carlos did the rest.

After another kiss, my nurse untied the sash of my terrycloth robe and gently caressed my penis. He pulled the stool behind him, took a seat between my thighs, and went to work, nuzzling my cock with his smooth, clean-shaven face, kissing and caressing my thighs, before sliding his warm mouth onto my growing rod. He slowly raised and lowered his head in my lap. I could feel his tongue on the underside of my shaft, saliva dripping from my scrotum as his mouth watered.

Once he had me good and hard, Carlos stood up. 

"Please. Now you sit here," he said, pointing to the stool. 

As I slowly lowered my bare ass onto the stool, I watched as he pulled his tight blue scrubs to his ankles, revealing a pink thong with a huge bulge in the pouch. I detected a small wet spot where his cock head was.

My Mexican twink then put two fingers of his left hand into his mouth. After pulling his thong out of his crack, Carlos reached behind him and crammed his saliva-covered digits into his sphincter. Then he put his lips to my ear and whispered, "We fuck now."

With that, he turned and slowly adjusted my tool as his smooth, brown bum took it in. I heard a slight grunt from him, followed by a feminine moan as my throbbing prick disappeared. This was like no pussy I ever felt, as his tight butt pulled me into him.

Between us, Carlos and I developed a rhythm that gave me the best screw I ever had. He rode me like a rodeo champ on his best day, his cheeks bouncing off my thighs. I felt myself in him, delving deeper into his warm, tight asshole with every thrust. Occasionally, the bouncing would stop, and Carlos would wiggle his booty slowly, left and right, just savoring the moment. And then he'd start the bronco ride again.

I felt myself tighten up as I summoned a load for the ages. Suddenly, it was like my tool had tripled in size, and I pulled him close and started a rapid-fire sperm assault on my lover's colon, firing shot after shot into him. My arms wrapped around his waist, my face in his back, I slammed my member into him and planted six-figure money shot up his ass.

The deed done, I continued to hold Carlos on my lap for a moment as we both caught our breath. My cock, now limp, was pushed out of him and plopped on my leg. Then he stood up, reached for some paper towels from the dispenser, and cleaned himself. As he straightened his thong I saw how big his bulge was. And the wet spot that I detected earlier was a little bigger. I stroked the silk pouch full of Latin meat. I heard a moan from Carlos. I had never touched another man's penis. But, that was about to change. . . .

To be continued  . . .