2 comments/ 40034 views/ 3 favorites Randy Old Folks' Home Ch. 01 By: LaPatitMort If you believe sex is for the under sixty set, this series is not for you. If things other than straight sex offend you, move on. Old folks know what they like and will ask for it. ------------------------------- Every morning I wandered over to the neighborhood McDonalds for a sausage biscuit and a cup of coffee. Usually I read the free morning paper and saw the same five men at "their" table in the corner. They were all in their late sixties or early seventies and seemed upbeat most days. One cloudy morning, only one of the group sat solemnly, pretending to look through the morning papers. We both needed company. I sat down next to his table with my small order and asked, "Where are your buddies today?" His name was Toby and he tapped the front page of the paper, "One died from this horrible swine flu that is going around and two others are trying to recover." "I'm so sorry. I've been reading about the pandemic but I did not know it had spread into Oregon." "Yea, keep your distance. We all live at the assisted living facility across the street. There is some talk that the state will lock us down today. I think we are the first place to have reported cases in the state." I did keep my distance. I was sixty-six myself but I was healthy, took care of my wife - who should be in such a facility - and I spent way too much time alone, depressed, escaping into the internet, taking my wife to appointments and doing things that really did not need to be done. In a few weeks, there were four regulars at his table and he motioned me over, introducing me to all of the "guys." Over the following couple of months, I learned about each of their working lives and how they wound up at the "Rose Garden Assisted Living Facility." All had originally gone there as part of a husband and wife team. Three were single now. Two wives died, one just left and the other was there, had Alzheimer's and was with a different man, not remembering her husband of forty years. That triggered lots of questions, so I asked Toby to hang around for a while for us to talk. By now he knew all about my situation and loved to talk about anything. "You should come over and check the place out. It's well run, has good facilities, lots of activities, the food is good -- but you get tired of even good food from the same place all the time." "I was curious about Sam's comment that his wife was with another man now." "There are over 150 people at the Garden but less than twenty are men. Sam's wife is a real looker and loves sex. She doesn't know who she is and sleeps around a lot." "I didn't know such facilities allowed such things." "We pay our bill and we are over 21. Some of us are still sexually active. Sam is not but there are lots of women who love to spend time with him for companionship or whatever happens. He doesn't mind about his wife. He knows she has good care. That had been a big worry for him before they became "inmates."" "Inmates?" "Just a term we tease the staff with. They take good care of us because it is an upscale facility and they know most of us can move to another." "Helen would kill me if she knew I was even considering such a thing." "Just come over by yourself. Come as my guest. You said you are usually on your own until noon. We'll have breakfast there one day. Just be ready to be hit on a lot." That brought a laugh from me. "No, I'm not kidding. You are tall, healthy and handsome compared to the few men who live there. The ladies are always wanting a date to go out with, travel with, talk with or just play cards with." "I still struggle to find an escort once in a while or find other sexual diversions. The equipment still works and the absence of healthy female companionship in my life is one of my toughest problems. You are describing heaven for me." "It definitely isn't heaven but older people are very open about what they want. The females will definitely make sure you know what they are looking for." "You mean, straight sex, oral sex or just a TV partner?" "Mable likes to be fisted. Janice wants you to watch her and then cum on her tits. Carol will do anything but likes anal. Ann is the most popular, she could take an anaconda down her throat. The twins enjoy each other's company but will double team you. Does that give you some ideas?" "Enough to keep my imagination in high geer for a week. Maybe I will come over for breakfast. When would be a good time?" We arranged to meet on Friday morning. I was expecting to see dozens of out of shape, unkempt, overmedicated and slow-witted females with walkers and in wheelchairs. That is pretty much what I had at home. Helen had been a gorgeous blond and still looks good when she can take a couple of hours to fix herself up. Her painful Parkinson's usually takes away any such motivation and her heavy duty pain killers take away her short term memory and humor. At one time she was the resident expert on blond jokes, was the manager of a large accounting department in an electronics company and turned every straight-males head. I met Toby in the lobby and he took me straight to the dining room, promising to show me his room, the rec areas and give me the rest of the tour after breakfast. He had told several people that he would have a guest today. We sat at a table with four others and were interrupted often for introductions that I promptly got mixed up. Just when I got back from humoring my small bladder, Toby introduced me to a tall, well put together, slightly overweight, silver-haired woman. She might be seventy but she exuded sex. "Dave, this is Mable, she has lived her for about five years now." Mable's hands were warm and she shook my hand with both of hers. "Nice to meet you. You have nice hands, Dave." She rubbed the palm of my hand and pulled her fingers through mine. "I leaned over to give her a hug and whispered, "They are talented also but are guided by my taste buds."" She pushed back from me gently and I watched her eyes darken and shift from friendly to pure lust. "What do you do to keep them so soft?" "I used to build houses but now I write so the calluses have mostly gone away. Sometimes I still like to put them in a moist, tight glove to soften them." She leaned close, "You are a naughty one, you must have heard about me." "I heard something and it triggered a life-long fantasy of mine. I hope I did not offend you. I am a big tease." "Not at all. Please come back and visit us. Bring your fantasies." As I sat down again, Toby said, "Well you are a hit with Mable, she usually is not a talker at breakfast. But get ready for a million words, here comes Carol." "Dave this is Carol; she is into all of the craft classes and exercises classes." I stood and got my mandatory hug. She opened with, "The exercises are necessary. I need to lose some weight." Very quietly I said, "I was so hoping you would come over and meet me?" Her eyes sparkled, "Why is that?" "Now don't slap me on my first day visiting." "I won't." "You have the cutest behind and I've been admiring it." Carol was very pale skinned, short and was dressed to show off her ass, however, she was not used to open praise from men at the Garden. She turned bright red and was not the motor mouth Toby had warned me about. In fact she smiled, almost curtsied and left since she had finished breakfast. As Toby and I were leaving the dining room a well endowed woman blocked our exit and extended her hand, "I'm Janice." "Wow, nice to meet you Janice. I see why Toby did not have us sit at your table. I would have spent my all my time watching you and forgot about breakfast." "Would I get to watch also?" "Most definitely. I hope you don't like the quick MTV movies the kids watch. I find that I like to watch the full length movies that build up slowly before they give you a surprise ending." Toby walked me toward his room, "You definitely know how to tease the ladies." "It is all a big tease, Toby. I'll bring you a couple of my books tomorrow and list a few of the web sites that I write for. I truly enjoy words. Playing with them is how I have spent my free time for the last ten years." I liked the facilities and met some of the staff before I left. Toby was impressed with my mysteries and in a few days, I got an invitation to be a guest speaker at the Garden. Teaching, book tours and mentoring had taken any fear of speaking in public away years ago. I gathered what information I could about my audience and tailored my talk to their interests, away from my work. For an hour I talked about what writers do, their days, tours, etc. Then I took an hour of questions. They were good questions. Some of the people wanted to write about their lives or felt they had a good novel in them. The last question, tripped me up. "Dave, your life's experiences gave you years of writing experience. How can we get good enough to write something that people would want to read; we don't have years and years?" "Although practice does make perfect, it also can make you boring and write to a formula. Telling a good interesting story, in words that are comfortable for you will find your readers. Not everyone will like what you write but enough will. If you grew roses, write about it. If you were wild, had troublesome kids or worked in an unusual field, write about your lives. That is what people want to read, things that are real, things they can identify with, things new to them, things that are believable. Sure sci-fi sells but that is a small market compared to everything else. The best advice I can give you is to write and publish to the internet to get feedback and do not edit out the thoughts or experiences that are you. Readers see through that immediately." I had met Ann earlier. I liked her immediately. She was clean, neat, smart, concise and confident. Knowing that we shared an oral fetish did not hurt. She asked, "Did you write for the internet as well as your published mysteries?" "When you write, a lot of your great ideas don't grow into books, some go into directions that cannot be in a mystery and sometimes you are compelled to let your imagination go and release your frustration and desires through your characters. Yes, I have written and still write more for pen pals, the internet, chain stories and special friends than I publish under my name or even non de plums for specific genre." Ten hands went up but the moderator said it was nine and time to stop the timed portion of my talk. I did agree to stay for more coffee and cookies for a while longer to address specific questions. Twin spinster sisters asked me the million dollar question, "How about porn? Do you write porn? Why do so many people read and get involved in it?" "I'll respond to that question but I don't think I should take any follow-ups in open discussion." "All people have common interest in sex and some experiences with sex. So, we all can write about and read about something we know, to some extent. There is not another subject that is of interest to everyone. Sure some people put restrictions on such thoughts, but writers could try to describe the horrors of a rape, the blissful feelings of the best sexual moment in their lives, paint impossible fantasies or describe the sweet companionship that they wish for. It is the easiest way to publish, get experience and get feedback. Yes, I write porn. It is a great diversion and escape from daily problems." I told the twin sisters about Literotica being the most quality story site and having enough submission rules to make it a good place for them to try. They asked, "Do you write for that site? Under what name?" "Do the two of you read such stories together?" They did not answer. "I see, I am to answer very personal questions, but you don't have to." "Yes, we read them together. Often I read out loud for a while and then Sally does." I wrote two different names on a post-it note and gave it to Cally. "Now, I answered your question but the names on this list are just for you and your sister." ----------------------------- That's how the Tuesday night writing classes started at the Garden. I even brought Helen one night in her wheelchair, introduced her and said she was my editor, proofreader and critic for many years until she grew tired of my style. That drew a laugh but everyone could see the physical pain in her eyes that racked her body. Within a few weeks quite a few people were working on autobiographies and discovering how difficult it is to be accurate in telling even your own life story -- researching dates, remembering who was at certain functions, rediscovering names. One night I realized this was ceasing to be fun for some people. "Writing for most of us is done for fun. Remember I mentioned that first night that writing short stories and putting them on the internet is a great diversion and stressful relief. Please, please do not struggle so with your words until you do not enjoy writing. Imagine yourself as a story teller before written language, sitting around the fire at night, trying to entertain your listeners. Some anthropologists say this is why women bond, talk and share differently than men. Day and night they had lots of time to talk, tell stories and share while their men were away, not talking and being quiet while they hunted. Let's learn again to entertain and enjoy. For next week forget all the work and frustration. Write something fun or interesting that happened in your life and bring it to class for someone else to read. We'll mix the stories up so no one will know who wrote them, if you want." I was the only male on the next Tuesday. We had fourteen in the class. The stories were fun interesting and well written. The evening was just about over when Cally said there was one more to read. As she began, I recognized it as one of my stories about aged, caring lovers. She was a talented reader. The words sounded much better spoken by her than they did when I wrote them. She did not edit the sex scene and it was torrid. You could hear a pin drop in the room when she finished. There were a few hard swallows and some were trying not to make noise while breathing. Several wiggled in their seats. I did not want to discuss that story. It was very personal. I should never have published it. "All the stories were wonderful and entertaining tonight. You all did wonderful jobs making the stories show your love, passion and experiences. Thank you." The group broke up quietly. No one stayed behind that night. I left a note on Toby's door asking that he set me up for a dinner date with Mable. ----------------------------------------- "Dave, we both know why you asked me out tonight. Why are we going out to dinner and pretending?" "Mable, you might be pretending but I am enjoying your company, your voice and I hope you will enjoy having dinner with me, playing and teasing. Are you in a hurry?" "I do have an interest that seems to get the guys to want to take me straight to bed and then leave." "You also live around many people you can talk to and share with. I want to enjoy being with you. Then if anything else happens, fine. This is the restaurant you picked from all those in the city. Why did you pick this one?" "It has home cooked Southern food. I was raised in the South. I guess it reminds me of my childhood." "I'm a southern boy -- born in Georgia. I know about crackling cornbread, fried salt pork, okra, chittlins, mustard greens and grits. Can you match that?" "Sweet Thing, do you know what you are supposed to eat on New Year's Day?" "Well, "Shut my mouth," if you are not the cutest little bitty in the barnyard. You have to have greens and black-eyed peas so you will have dollars and pennies all year." We both had lived in California for so long that our ancient southern accents were strained at best. She held her head back and laughed with gusto. "Now a test for the pretty lady, "What did the smart Southerners of Atlanta do with the most expensive piece of real estate in the city?"" "That's too easy, at North Avenue and I-75 sits the largest three story hot dog stand in the world, The Varsity." "I'm starved; I hope you like to eat as playfully as you talk." Mable and I honestly enjoyed each other's company and were having a fantastic time before the entre was served. "I have to run to the "little girls' room" before the main course gets here." "May I come help you?" "Better not here in polite society. Back on the farm I'd say, "Yes."" "You are a big tease." "No I'm not." "Prove it. Bring me your damp panties back." "Sure thing, big boy." She definitely did not back down or get embarrassed. I did not hide what I held in my hands when she put them there. They were pink with a lacy top, I pressed them to my nose and inhaled while I kissed at the damp crotch. Her eyes sparkled and her entire face smiled naughtily. "Can you guess now?" "Guess what?" "Well you challenged me why we were going out because I already knew your fetish. What's mine?" "Let's see, you are a cross dresser and want to wear my underwear." "No, I'm the most oral man you have ever known and I want to taste you and lick you for hours while I cater to your fetish." She groaned and said, "Can we leave now and go back to my room?" Our food was served and we idly chatted about life, likes and dislikes. "In our house, we never ate desert after dinner. We ate early, waited and had it with coffee or milk as a late snack." "That's funny, Dave, we did the same thing." "I've arranged for the restaurant to give us a thermos of coffee and some cheese cake to go." "I'm stuffed now. That sounds like a great idea." "Except.............?" "Except what?" "I've lived on the west coast so long, I like a little sweetness right after dinner." We had teased a lot but this puzzled her. I leaned close and kissed her. "That is sweet but not sweet enough." Again I leaned close, "Give me your tongue." I sucked. It is nice to get old enough not to care about the others in the restaurant. "That is even sweeter but it will not hold me until we get back to the Garden." Again she could not guess where I was going. "Put two fingers into your pussy and let me suck them." That shocked her. Then she remembered we were together for sex and her juices flowed again. She did not move. "You mean woman. Do I have to crawl under the table cloth and get the sweetness I so desperately need or are you going to feed me. Isn't it a southern woman's job to be gracious and feed her date?" I watched her glance around the room then decide to dismiss everyone except us. Her eyes returned to mine and never blinked as her right hand disappeared under the table cloth. Her legs rustled and her eyelids almost closed for a second when her fingers slipped into her body. "Not too fast, Pretty One, it takes a minute or two for the sweetness to accumulate. Maybe if you thrust your fingers in and out a little, it will help." She accepted my challenge but was a little unhappy with me. "I hope you cum in your pants." "I'm not going to do that but everyone in the restaurant will know that you have gotten me very excited when we leave." Her satisfied smirk said she liked knowing that. The fingers she offered me were more than wet. I cleaned them and complimented the chef on the aroma, the bouquet and the delicate seasoning. As we left the restaurant, Mable eyed her handiwork with pride. When she locked her arm into mine, she pulled it back to make the tent in my slacks even more pronounced. I put my other arm behind me and said, "Just follow the arrow back to where we parked." Before I cranked the car, I could smell the sweetness of her and feel the heat. "I don't want you to cool down on me and lose interest in spending some time with me. We need to stay hot to earn our cheese cake and coffee." Randy Old Folks' Home Ch. 01 "Dave, I'm so hot I'm leaking through my skirt and on to the seat of your car. I'm not going to cool off." "Let's not take any chances. Open the glove compartment. There is a half-sized present for you." Again she was puzzled but she retrieved the paper bag and opened it. It was only about nine inches long and only a couple of inches across but it was a perfect little fist and forearm. I did not say another word. She lifted her ass off the seat and pulled her skirt so it was above her waist. One leg stayed near the passenger door while she removed the shoe from her left foot and then slid that foot to rest on the hardest hard-on I had had in years. I had driven about half a mile. "Pull over and stop." Now she had me curious. "Take that cock of yours out so I can tease it with my toes." She spread her toes wide and curled them over the head of my very wet cock. Her toes slipped all around, wedged the crown between her big toe and the next one and they worked in opposite directions for a few strokes. "You have me too worked up right now, Mable. Let him calm down or I'll cum all over your foot." "I'll quit only if you watch me some and then drive us home." I watched as she parted the lips of her glistening cunt. The car filled even more with her maddening luscious smell. My body ached to taste her. She took a thick string of her wetness and painted it on my lips as my eager tongue flicked out and cleaned her fingers. "Now watch." I watched and the rubber fist slipped into her without even a pause. She held the base of it with her fingernails or it would have been sucked completely from sight. "Can you drive?" "If you do one more thing, I can." "Yes." "Pull the fist out a little and punch it against your g-spot." She made the right moves but had missed. Still she thought she would fool me. "Are you going to lie to me on our first date? Let me see you torture yourself." She liked being caught; she liked being ordered. Her body arched when the rubber knuckles raked and pressed against her sponge. More liquid poured out of her. "Tease her all the way home but do not let her cum. I want to drink all I can from you. I want to see my hand slip up inside you and have you straddle my face while I lick you and you cum into my mouth." Her groan was very sincere and her voice struggled along with her body's effort not to cum. "I might drown you. I've been told, I get too wet." "I'll promise to drink quickly; if you promise to try to drown me." "Please, Dave, no more teasing. Get me home and make me cum a dozen times." When we parked, Mable reached to remove the dildo fist. "No, leave it inside you. I want you to hold it in place and walk all the way to your room without cuming." "I don't think I can." "Please try. I want to bury my face into your pussy the second your door closes behind us. I'll slip my hand in you holding the rubber fist in you also. I will feel the mouth of your cervix, stretch you and rub the back of my thumb against your magic spot." "Please, Dave, no more teasing. I am starting to cum." "When we first met in the Garden's dining room, you were sizing my hands. You were thinking, my hands were small. So I will wrap my fingers around the rubber fist and we will start with both of them in you." A moan escaped her lips and a little spritz of nectar christened the seat. She was struggling so. I walked around the car and opened the door to help her get out. An inch or two of the rubber fist was showing. I reached between her legs and pushed it back in and rubbed across her clit when I let it go. More liquids came out of her. "Come on Mable, we have to make it a few more yards and then you are going to open your legs and be mine. I'm going to take you, stretch you and watch you cum." She struggled and was bent over holding her belly when she went by the front seating and TV room. She scurried on and I spoke for her, "She got some bad food tonight. We even had to bring desert home." I dangled the bag as proof. One of the twins, said after we had passed, "Whatever she ate, it smells like pussy." Mable laughed the same time I did. I discretely caught the rubber fist on its first splattering bounce but the puddle would have to wait for the janitors. We both were still laughing when we got inside her room. I needed to re-establish the tension. I stepped alongside her, grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back burying my lips and tongue into her surprised mouth. The surprise lasted a second and she eagerly sucked. We shared breaths, kissed and I fondled her breasts and let my hand travel down over her ovaries and on top of her skirt covered clit. I sat on her bed, only the bathroom light was on to dimly show our bodies. "Strip for me, Mable." She started to object. "I said, "Strip for me, Mable."" She stripped. Her thighs were wet to her knees. Her pubic hair was shortly cropped and her eyes were locked on me full of lust and fear that I would be disappointed. "Now I am going to strip for you. While I do, you lean against the head board and prove to me that you can take your own hand into your body." She was back riding the edge again. A little whimper came from her and she had most of her hand inside before she got to the bed. In only moments, I was nude beside her bed, watching in awe as her hand was inside her to the wrist. She reached for me with her free hand. "No, rub your clit with your free hand." As she obeyed, I stepped toward her and she took my rock hard cock into her mouth. "Careful with him. It has been a long time and you have me throbbing to cum." It might have been something she learned years ago, I prefer to think it just happened, she sighed, almost a hum, around my cock and it vibrated against the roof of her mouth as she pushed it there with her tongue. My cock popped from her lips and I moved between her legs. I had a warming lube hidden in my left hand and clutched the rubber fist in my right. She pulled her hand free and her pussy gaped. "Make it last if you can, Dave. I am close too and I don't want you to be gentle." "Don't worry. You will suffer for me and you will cum many times, until I want you to stop." A ripple when through her body and I wasn't even touching her. A trickle of wetness flowed out the open hole and into the crack of her ass. "Close your eyes for me. Put all your thoughts and feelings between your legs and know that I am reaching inside of a female for the first time in my life. You are giving me that. And I want to see your body fly higher that it has ever flown in your lifetime and taste the sweetness that comes from your womb." My speech was long enough for me to coat my hand with the warming lube and clutch the rubber fist so it made a pointed yet widening lance to stretch her like she wanted to be stretched. I had studied for her, read about others who shared her fetish. I was filled with desire to feel inside her but even more filled with wanting to repay her ten-fold in pleasure. Our deal was not the deal of lovers, seeking closeness. Our deal was fetish pleasure for fetish pleasure. Mable's mind raced as she felt the strange warming. Her legs splayed and she accepted the first few inches of the rubber inside her. She even opened and stretched to accept part of my hand. When I felt she was tight I pushed a little more and waited. Ripples went through her. Ripples of fantasy mixed with stretching pain. When she widened, I let my hands slip back, pushed very slowly, so she could pretend that many inches had slipped into her before her limit was reached again. It was fantasy. With a simple push she could have easily taken my hand and a third of my forearm. But balled around the rubber fist and with my other hand to expand and swell, the total combination could be made to exceed any stretching her cunt had ever done. I wanted her to think that she had taken most of my body and that it was squirming inside her to please her and stretch her. When I removed my second hand, it took the blocking width away and her toy clutched in my fist popped into her. Her lips closed around my wrist. Her body withered and she moaned, wetness ran out of her and she arched to take more. I was not ready for that stage of her fantasy. I had told her at the restaurant what I would do; now I turned my hand and its toy in her, rocked it back and forth and found just how to press the back of my thumb into her g-spot. I found the exact pressure she liked and just how she wanted my fist to be too big to pull out of her and still put maximum pressure on her sponge. I watched as her clit bulged from inside. I could see how its hidden finger pressed against and stretched the skin above the hood. Now I lowered my face to that protruding ridge and began to lick along the sides of her clit that never showed unless she had a fist inside her. I went as slow as I could wanting to make this last. I loved how her sheath tightened and sucked at my hand, fingers and wrist. I enjoyed licking at her wetness, torturing her clit and teasing its tip to swell completely free from its hood. I enjoyed watching my hand expand into her belly when I pushed. I could move my fingers and see each of them. She got too accustomed to this level, so I found the dimple of her cervix and pushed a finger at it. Her hips recoiled in uncomfortable pain. I was still but kept the tip of my finger in place. She wanted to feel it again, pushed, recoiled and groaned. Again and again, she caused her own pain. I could feel her dimple opening. Just once I had to try. When she pushed again, I pushed. Her groan of pain filled the room but my finger slipped into the inter-most part of her body - the sacred part where babies grow. It was a near religious experience and I did not want to hurt her more. I did not tell her but it was her turn now. Her face, chest and belly were soaked with sweat. Her eyes had been squeezed shut for twenty minutes. The bed was wet and her legs trembled in hoped for pleasure and exhaustion when she arched her hips into my hand. Smoothly, evenly, firmly I thrust and pulled back so my thumb crushed at her spot, I licked along her buried clit and sucked at the shinny pearl on every stroke. When little children try to stop crying their bodies shake and their sobs become verbal shudders. Mable was making sounds like that and her insides clamped painfully onto my wrist. Her body found super human strength and fucked up at my arm. I had to use my weight and my other hand to hold it in place for her. Her next thrust lifted me off the bed. Her mouth hung open gasping for breath. Her body tightened, thrust up, began to tremble and she screamed louder than any sound that had echoed through the Garden. Her insides pushed my hand and it seemed right to pull it out. I pulled my tightened fist and she screamed again. An arch of clear liquid rained over my head and I closed my mouth over the fountain and swallowed as fast as I could. Her magnificent cunt contracted and then pumped again to feed me. My heart was beating so fast that I could not hear its individual beats. I needed to cum; I ached to cum; my body hurt to cum. I rose up on my knees. Mable's belly was still convulsing but she was totally passed out. I barely touched my cock and my first rope launched out to land on the side of her face, across her neck and down between her sweaty breasts. I knew there would be a few more feeble pulses so I pushed what used to look like an ample cock into the temporary cavern that dwarfed it. Her body was relaxing and closing but it would be hours before my cock would feel its sides. Still I grasped my shaft, using my fist like a pussy and watched my throbbing, near bursting helmet disappear between the lips of her pussy and deposit every last drop from my balls inside her body. I was still gasping for breath when the banging on the door began. "Mable, are you alright? Mable?" I answered back hoping, my answer would do. "Mable is fine. We dropped a bookend and it hit her foot. When we grabbed the shelf the entire thing came down. She'll see you at breakfast." The voice came back. "Dave it is past time for visitors to have left for the night." "I'm sorry, I did not know there was a curfew. I'll be out in just a few minutes." I hung a little sign on the rubber fist and put it in her medicine cabinet. The sign said, "Good Morning, Pretty One. You are magnificent." Signed, "Dave Junior." I washed Mable's copious juices from my body the best I could; got myself together the best I could; kissed Mable's ass Goodnight -- that was all I could easily reach -- and stumbled out the door. The fresh air was a shock, I wanted to go back into the room filled with the smell of Mable's pussy. I got a couple of knowing smiles on the way out and wondered if the staff would go in to check if Mable was alive after her molester left. Randy Old Folks' Home Ch. 02 Finally, I have gotten enough of my male life behind me that I understand that to be a good lover to a mature woman you have to have been through all the stages. The "What do I do?" early stages, the awkward first times together, the twenties when you fall off the bed and pass out, the thirties when every man knows his woman can kill him with her pussy if she wants to, the forties and fifties when life begins to change and sex changes with it. I remember days when I was too tired to please my wife; days when my multi-orgasmic female sex fiend could not quit thinking about a sick kid or problems at work long enough for me to get off much less her. I remember menopause, operations, breasts lumps, swollen prostrate, high blood pressure and Viagra. The end result is that I love women, with all their complexities and with their patience and understanding to spend time with me. We don't compete anymore; neither of us take Cosmo checklists to bed to see if our relationship is healthy; neither of us are embarrassed to ask for what we want or discuss what we like. Neither of us pass judgment at the moment, although we may say at breakfast, "Let's not to that again." Yea, I know I am talking about a woman who matured along with me and isn't addicted to drugs, isn't trying to get even with some s.o.b., isn't a bi-polar escapee from a local institution and hasn't raised drama to some absurd art form. There are enough of the good ones out there to keep life interesting even in my sixties. I went through the second childhood stage - dated the twenty year olds, thirty year olds and was rejected by would-be cougars. Occasionally one of life's jewels shows up in my life and the sharing, accepting pleasure is cast within reality, within our separate lives and within the boundless walls of pleasure that two people can share. Last time I told you about my evening with Mable. I can still smell her juices on me and feel her muscles contract around my wrist. She fulfilled a long held fantasy for me and I got to remind her that at seventy-one her body was magnificent and could please any man. ------------------------------------- I missed a day or two of the required morning coffee meetings at McDonalds of "old farts anonymous." Toby called me at home. "Dave, we have been missing you. What's happening? Are you sick?" "No, my wife has gotten worse; I've had to arrange more help for her and I've been pretty tried." "You sound exhausted." "I'll see you and the guys for coffee tomorrow. See if you can suggest a good date for me to the museum. I have to go to a French painting exhibit and I need someone who will make me look good in a subject I know nothing about." The next morning Toby told me how to call Ann, the rumored "anaconda swallower." I had only met her briefly at the door on the way out of the dining room the one day I ate breakfast as his guest at the Gardens. "Ann, this is Dave Gordon, we met at breakfast about a month ago at the Gardens; Toby was my guide." "I remember the tall, sexy, playful, professor." "Oh, you have a silver tongue and have already made me feel ten feet tall. Toby tells me you might keep me from looking like a dunce a week from Saturday." "That is quite a lead in. What does it mean?" "For many years, I've been a lifetime member at the art museum, but my interests are everything except early French painters. I understand you might have some knowledge in that area?" "A million years ago, I taught such things." "You are smart as well as lovely. Will you be my date for that night and keep me from making a fool out of myself?" "Didn't Toby tell me you are married?" "Yes, I am, to a lovely, over medicated, very disabled woman with no short term memory. Her nurse will be staying over that night. If you would like, we can start here for an early cocktail so you can meet everyone, go to the showing and then find somewhere better to eat than the plastic food that the museum will serve with the boring speakers." "Finally, a man who knows when to leave a party." "I'll pick you up at five-thirty, we'll go by my house for a cocktail and then be at the museum at seven." Some people clean up well and some people clean up so well you don't want to go out. Ann was in category 2. I am not a breast man, but in her case, I would make an exception. They stood like perfect Jane Mansfield cones, demanding that all male eyes pick a breast and drool while he watched it move with a life all its own. She had learned to put on make-up when it was a pleasurable art and not a task. An easy twenty years vanished from her body and I felt like I was dating a younger woman and would have to earn my minutes with her. Ann was cordial and handled herself well at my house. She was impressed with its many rooms, the pool and was gracious when she met Helen. Helen was having a bad spasm and I had given her several medications to break the cycle. Ann sat with me in the den and talked while I ran back and forth. "How long have you been taking care of Helen?" "We've been together thirty years and she has been sick for fifteen. She has been through operations and pain that I could never endure. I have promised her to take care of her the rest of her life and not put her into a nursing facility. Together we built a nest egg that will allow me to keep my promise." "I'm sorry Dave; I didn't mean to hit nerves." "Ann, you didn't. I liked you from the second we met and I love how your mind is quick and you can banter with me. Still I want to be honest with you about my situation. The physical side of things was a major part of our married life but disappeared completely six years ago. You are my first non-paid escort date." She looked at me strangely. I realized how what I said had sounded. "I apologize, Ann. I have not had sex with a woman in six years. I have hired beauties to make me look good at book signings and I did have an evening with Mable to play out a fetish. If I have offended you, we can cancel tonight and I'll take you home." She ignored my offer and asked, "You are a writer?" "Under several names. First as a technical writer, then my mysteries took off and a couple of sci-fi stories did well. I write porn and maintain lots of email pals for my sex life." "Are the David Stone mysteries yours?" " Very astute, but please do not tell anyone. The twins know a name or two that I write porn under. The public has never made the connection and it would hurt my sales. Come with me." I took her to my office, a five hundred square foot affair with a set of French doors that opened out onto a patio set up for breakfast. The room was piled with unorganized scripts, books, computers and bookcases filled ten feet high. The fireplace added flickers to the spot lights illuminating the bondage and fetish art of Sorayama and Olivia, dozens of nude mermaids and lots of varied pin-up art from Cleavenger to Huerta to Koufay to Mobius. "You were very observant to make the association, so you might as well see my inspiration room. The mysteries are on that shelf but my escapes hang all around you." She browsed like a school teacher in the felt board area of a teachers' supplies store. I had to go check on Helen and then get us on our way. I needed to push Ann's limits to get her out of being above it all. I had a Brown from thirty years ago that was originally banned everywhere. I pulled it from behind the couch and replaced another picture with it in a darkened corner. "I'll be right back. Maybe you would like that one." The scene was of a vixen with long auburn hair that hung over the side of a bed covered with a shiny comforter, her eyes were shut, she was nude, endowed like Ann, her cunt was bald, swollen and glistening but the emphasis was her delight giving oral pleasure. At the edge of the picture you could guess, was a cock that she had already welcomed into her mouth. The angle of her chin and face straightened her neck. In the light and shadows you could see the outline of a wide cock's head as it stretched her throat. When I returned, Ann was still standing, speechless in front of the picture. Her right hand rested on her own throat. "Let me help you with your coat. We have to get going. Helen is relaxed now. I have always enjoyed looking at the throbbing bulge in that beauty's throat." She had not spoken for minutes, as we drove away. "Ann, do you know how to tease me and make me crazy?" She was still speechless. The picture had been the perfect surprise for her. "Your wetness, your taste. But be careful, I can maintain control only for so long, then when my I.Q. drops to caveman level, I will take you wherever we are, then I'll stand over you and drive down your throat when I am ready to pump ropes of my cum directly into your belly." She liked my verbal fantasy. She was every bit as hot and playful as me. Her eyes had closed to let her imagined story play from reel to reel in her mind. Her legs opened and she pulled her panty hose down and her panties to one side. One finger, then two slipped in and thrust expertly, sliding across her clit, touching some magic spot and then pulling a wonderful sweet smelling nectar out into the closed car. I asked her, "Please." We were on the freeway when her dripping fingers painted my lips. I licked at them and she pushed them across my tongue. "I like how you play me." Her fingers squished into her body again. Maybe three this time. "I am not playing with you; I'm getting you ready; suck my fingers clean." Three more times she fed me when mercifully the parking lot appeared. Her damp fingers closed around my rock hard, clothed cock. "Is this what you are going to push down my throat?" I could only groan. She had won; one upped my teasing thoughts to beyond what I could handle. My cock throbbed in her hand. She squeezed the helmet tight and held on. "Save it for me. Don't waste it in your boxers; save it to stretch my throat, throb and cum deep in me." My body lurched and contracted. She was playing me like Mrs. Robinson did her prey. "You will get your wish, but first I must push him into your belly and feel your womb suck at him. I want to be mad wanting to cum in two parts of your body at one time. I want you to taste you sweetness on me. Tomorrow, someone will find me with no mind, babbling, satisfied, walking alone on the sidewalk." Ann had continued to thrust her fingers into her now gaping cunt. Her body arched off the leather seat and in a raspy, gasping voice, she struggled to say, "You will not get out of my room." She came, wetting her skirt and making me moan wanting her wetness directly from her. She knew, but her body was still trembling. She reached out her wet hand and grasped mine. She shook in release but knew the pent up desire she had built in me. When she recovered, we walked in. She was in her damp clothing; I could see the evil smirk on her lips. She was enjoying the discomfort she had put me in. The discomfort, I would sport for at least two hours looking at French paintings. The discomfort she would tease back to its height when she saw that my pants were not tented enough. This was an evil woman who deserved to be fucked as hard as I could and then have my cock pushed down her tight throat so we both could put a hand on her stretched neck and feel my dick throb and squirt cum directly into her stomach. She was cool and knowledgeable while our guide told us about the paintings and that the show would open to the public in two days. She enjoyed backing into me, reaching behind and playing with my cock until I begged for mercy, so I would not embarrass myself. Finally, it was time to escape. "You have teased me all night. You know I want you more than I want to breathe but mostly I want you to guide me through your fantasy." "How did you know it has only been a fantasy for me?" "Your thoughts, your imagination and your need slip into scenes and your body yearns to play them out. I think you are like me. If you had done them a few times, they would still be exciting but would not have the edge and passion I sense in you." Dinner was in an intimate upscale restaurant known for its prime rib. Ann commented on how tender and juicy the meat was and how perfectly the creamed horseradish complimented it. I could not resist. "The meal is wonderful but compared to how you tasted in the car it is less than average." "I am at a disadvantage. You have done all the tasting." "The table is small and the table cloth is long. You could easily balance the scale." Her expression, questioning eyes and no verbal response said she did not know how to answer or proceed. I reached under the table, unzipped, pulled my wet cock out and the returned to my meal. "You did not do what I think you did?" "I did what I could to please my lady and help her enjoy her meal." Ann scooted her chair a little closer and rested her right hand on my thigh. "I do wish it were that long for you." She laughed under her breath and slipped her hand higher until her palm was over my pre-cum covered helmet. She rubbed and massaged until I had to stop chewing and concentrate on not panting. My cock would no longer fit back into the fly that I had pulled it from. Again she was winning. When her hand returned to above the table, she licked at her palm and then took a bite of her prime rib. "If they served each meal with that sauce they would sell a lot more prime rib to all the women dinners." Luckily, Ann kept her hands above the table and eventually I was able to stuff my cock back into my pants and zip up. "Would you like for me to ask the waiter for a desert menu?" "I do want desert but let's go back to my room and have it there." I have prided myself in my cool, in control manner most of my life. I was a fumbling, uncoordinated, mentally pre-occupied man trying to pay the bill and get my lady to the car. Some sanity and rational thought did return during our short and silent drive back. I planned how to give my lovely a taste of her fantasy tonight. My only props were a pocket full of stockings, an alcohol wipe and a pocket knife. When we went into her apartment, she quickly scurried to the bathroom. I used the time to attach a stocking to each corner leg of her queen sized bed. She almost caught me when she came out in her robe and invited me to "freshen-up" also. I was only wearing my long tailed dress shirt after my turn. She had the room's lights dimmed and the bed turned down. "Will you play out a fantasy for me?" "I'll try." I turned off the lights. The room was very dark. The only light came from a mostly shielded night light in the bathroom. "Close your eyes." I talked to her as I tied a stocking around her head covering her eyes and slipped her robe off. She had dressed in a wonderful sexy expensive sleeping set, complete with top, sleeping bra and wide legged shorts. "I have broken into your room, over powered you and drugged you." The alcohol wipe under her nose was cold. The scent shocked her but she knew what it was and did not panic. She gave me her weight and I stretched her out on her back from side to side of the bed. Her head hung over the edge, like in the picture she had seen in my office. I was surprised that she stayed completely still while I reached under the bed and pulled out the other end of each stocking and tied her wrists and ankles. Ann started to complain when I ripped the expensive top to her set off her still body. Instead, she used the sounds to slip into our developing shared fantasy. I let her feel the flat cold blade on her breasts as I pulled, ripped and cut away her bra and used it's lace and silk textures to tease and play with her nipples. They seemed to strain, harden and stand against the rough lace and sigh when I rubbed them with the silk. I pulled and twisted her panties. In her feigned unconsciousness, she moaned in pain when the material wedged between her pussy's lips and tightened against her clit. I twisted them even tighter. Her hips lifted and I let her feel the cold steel again as I cut first one leg and then the other free. My moan was sincere seeing her neatly trimmed hair glistening with wetness and her lips already swelling and shining in the dim light. I talked to myself. "Her ex said she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose. I wonder how good she is in her sleep." I knelt over her and kissed her lips. When I pushed my tongue between hers, she sucked and I hardened my tongue like a little cock. Within a minute I was wishing I could make my tongue cum into her mouth. Each moment that went by, I wanted to please her more. "You are good my "Sleeping Beauty." Now try with my fingers. Suck them deep and show me that you will not gag when I push my cock into your throat." I started with two fingers. That was no challenge for her. With three I pressed deep into her throat and pressed down on her tongue. It just rippled and she swallowed sucking at the tips of my fingers. I imagined how a real anaconda could unhinge his jaws and swallow its prey. I pushed four fingers into her mouth. I had to increase the pressure to force her lips wider but her mouth stretched and took my hand all the way to my thumb. Again an involuntary moan escaped me. I stood between her tied, wide stretched legs and took off my shirt. My cock was bobbing wildly and leaking pre-cum. For the briefest of moments I walked around and wiped my cock around the lips of her mouth and let her tongue flick out. She raised her head to engulf me but I pulled away. "Later my Lovely. First your body will drive me crazy. If I pushed into your mouth now, I would worry about hurting you. When you have me crazy, only taking my pleasure in your throat will matter to me." As I walked back around the bed and got on my knees between her legs, I talked to her. "I am going to force you to cum against your will. Resist me. Don't give me the pleasure of seeing you climax. Keep yourself from me. Fight and do not cum for me." I continued to taunt her while I licked and sucked at her breast. I rolled her nipples gently between my fingers and thumbs while I kissed her neck, under her arms, across her ovaries and let her taste my male desire in wet French Kisses. I lifted completely away from touching her; counted to twenty and then ever so slowly slipped two fingers into her soaking cunt. Her hips lifted off the bed again and I met them by spreading her lips and sucking her clit before she was ready. The tender shock reminded her she was not in control. Ann pulled at her restraints, resisted and pushed into my mouth at the same time. Her legs rolled to get away while her hips flared to suck my fingers into her g-spot to absorb more pleasure. Twice I watched her belly tighten and her arms pull tight trembling at her restraints. Both times I backed off until frustration replaced her need for release and pleasure. For the third time I walked around the bed. I was clean but it had been hours since my last bath and she had had me excited and sweating for those hours. When my balls rested on her face, she arched her head farther off the bed seeking my shaft. Instead, she got my fingers just inside her beautiful pussy again. She was about to fuck up into them when the tip of my cock touched her mouth. Her tongue lapped out and pulled the tip of my helmet into her mouth. I slipped my fingers in, mimicking her actions. She sucked hard but only gained another half inch from me and my fingers. Her head arched up taking all my helmet and a little more into her hot, wetness to be pushed by her tongue while I did the same to her with my fingers. Again she strained to lift her head but her efforts did not gain her anything. "A little more cock this time for the lady?" "Yes." Randy Old Folks' Home Ch. 02 I let her suck me in just far enough to touch the back of her tongue. Her lips lifted without her permission as I drove the tips of my fingers into her g-spot. Her life-long fantasy was racing. I wanted her memory to be a long pleasurable one. I pulled back. She sucked very hard to keep me. Just my cock's tip rested on her lips. She made a sound that was a cross between a complaint and please. This time she would flirt with the reality of her fantasy for the first time. I pushed again. Slowly, slipping across her tongue. I felt her inhale, guessing what would happen. An inch past the back of her tongue my thick cock stretched into her throat for the first time, cutting off her ability to inhale. Ann's body was deathly still. There had to be pain in the stretching. There had to be some worry that she would not be able to inhale when she needed air in her lungs. I had now pushed three fingers deep between her legs. She was so wet, there was little friction. I wondered if she had enhanced her wetness. I still worried about her. I had never been with a woman who wanted to experiment with breath play. I wanted to play too but I needed her guidance. I let my fingers continue to thrust into her and then curl against her magic spot while I slowly pulled my cock back out of the shallow space I had invaded. I heard her inhale and felt her strain to be penetrated again. This time I pushed my thickness into her. She moaned. I thought in pain. My fingers never stopped. Her hips churned. I held my position in the top of her neck. I wasn't satisfied but I could feel an almost uncomfortable tightness around the head of my cock. Her body racked from her throat down to her belly. I figured she was struggling for air. Again I pulled back. "Give up?" "Definitely not. I pushed to close her throat again and then pushed another inch to stretch her wider. While she wondered if I would let her breath again, I distracted her by thrusting three fingers into her sopping cunt. It was so wet there was little friction for her. I wondered if she had enhanced her wetness in some way. Again her hips lifted as her body struggled for air. Again I pulled back. I let her lap at the sensitive ridge under my cock. She stretched her head back and opened her mouth to give me a good angle to push into her. As I pushed her belly was beginning to tremble because of my relentless fingers. She shook her head "No," pleading for me not to let her cum this way. I did not push more into her mouth. Instead, I took my fingers from her, wiped her wetness across my cock and her lips and then thrust again to just enough to close her throat. She expected the next gentle inch, but I pushed in two. Her hips lifted and she groaned around my cock as her neck tried to stretch too quickly. While her throat still hurt and struggled to expand, I told her, "The rest I will push slowly into you the next time. You will have to take it all before I let you breathe again." As far as she knew she might have another foot to take. I wish I had that much to give her. She had taken six thick inches with her head hanging off the edge of her bed. She had almost three more to go. I hoped she would be tight and my slow push would make her think she was earning her reputation as the anaconda swallower. My cock danced in her tightness and I was struggling for control. I pulled out slowly. Her tongue laped out again. "Ready?" "Please, give it to me. I'm ready." I have an oral fetish that few people understand. I was enjoying watching this woman's enjoyment of having a cock pushed into her throat. Slower and slower I fed her the last inch. When my short hair tickled her lips and pressed into her, her body sighed, her face was bright red and her body jerked for air but when I pulled back she seemed to complain. I let her inhale twice. "Ready?" "Yes." Smoothly I slipped all the way to the base and thrust several times against her lips before I pulled back. This time I did not ask her but guessed she was ready and I fucked into her throat, pulled back half way and pushed again. Three more times I pulled half way out and fucked into her watching her neck bulge. The next time she breathed and I pushed into her I rested my hand on her throat and felt my cock stretch her. When I pulled out, she gasped and pleaded, "Untie one of my hands, I want to feel you in my throat too. I have not been stretched by a real cock like this before." I untied her right hand. "Put your fingers on your lips and feel me slip into your mouth. Then move your hand to your throat and feel the head of my cock stretch into you." She was surprised by the thickness that she was taking. She squeezed the head of my dick and slowly let her hand trail down her throat with my push. She strangled herself tightly to feel my cock in her neck. I pulled out to let her breathe and gave her time to recover. "Can you fuck me this way and cum buried in my throat?" "Yes, but you have to breathe. I'm afraid of losing control and cutting your air off too long." "Even if I pass out, stay in my throat, throb and shoot ropes of cum into my belly." "I don't want to risk hurting you." "Please do it. I have always dreamed of this. Please." "Okay, I will stay in your throat until my balls have emptied into your belly." Her free hand stretched out and tangled itself into the sheet, so she would not be able to resist my time in her body. "Tell me when you shoot." "I will tell you but my cock will swell and it will lurch when I cum. You will know many ways when your body is more than I can stand and you drain me." She moaned. Her hips lifted slightly. Wetness flowed from her and I pushed past her lips. I pushed past her tongue. I pushed into the opening of her throat and I watched as I pushed and the helmet of my cock stretched into her throat and outlined on her skin. I fucked her. I fucked her for my pleasure and did not listen to my brain when it told me to care for her. I fucked her harder. Her hips lifted higher. I fucked her harder. Her hips began to twist and roll. I fucked her and screamed, "Now, woman, take my cum." I thrust so hard that I felt her teeth press against my pubic hair, through her lips. Again I thrust, hard enough to bust her lips and make them bleed. My entire body arched and tightened. Vaguely, I saw her hips rise even higher and tremble supported only by her heels. I heard her throat push out some of her saliva and my cum when she screamed but there was no other sound. I was not finished and thrust again. She was frozen in time. Her head did not move, her hips were suspended and my cock throbbed long after it was dry trying to fill all her need. My body was still tense and rigid when she collapsed under me. First her hips dropped heavily to the bed and bounced. Her hands opened and relaxed into the sheets and her shoulders slipped off the edge of the bed. I realized that she had her head raised to take even more of me when it too fell back along the side of the bed. My cock sprung free and slapped into my belly. I struggled with all my strength to stay upright and not pass out. I was dizzy and unsteady. I thought I would fall but slowly I gained control of my legs and arms. It seemed like minutes before my eyes would open. When they did I looked at my evening's lover. She had my cum draining out of her throat onto her lips. She was deathly still and I could not see her chest moving. A surge of adreline jolted me and I reached for her just as she gasped and began to breathe. I used the last of my strength to pull her back onto me bed and untie her other hand. She was so very still, I was worried but she was breathing. For long minutes I worried about her. Thoughts about her age flashed through my brain. Thoughts about how I had pushed the limits too far. My next thought was interrupted when her entire body lurched, woke up and wrapped around me. While she held me I let my senses enjoy the taste of her body that was all over me, the smell of her juices that filled the room and the wetness that I was lying in. I reached down and pushed two fingers into her. She moaned in complaint and I brought them to my lips and tasted her. Again I did the same thing. She did not complain. Her eyes were barely open but they sparkled as she watched me drop the strings of wetness from her cunt into my mouth and suck my fingers clean. I had not slept through the night in many years. At seven a.m. I woke up and she was watching me. "All my life I have thought what happened last night was possible. My body yearned for it. I drove my second husband crazy wanting him to get me there. Here at the Gardens, the men and women think I am crazy because of how far I want to push the limits. Thank you for last night. My throat is sore, every muscle in my body hurts, my cunt is tender and you probably killed half my brain with lack of oxygen but it is what I have always wanted." "Ann, you drove me to the point of madness where I could have killed you last night. The head of my cock is raw from fucking into your throat and still I want to do it some more. I think I have met someone crazy enough with her fetish that she can understand my oral insanity. I must have drunk a gallon from your body last night and I passed out wanting more." "Want to get up and go to breakfast?" "I want to fuck you." "I am so glad. Take any hole you want and take as much of it as you want. I want to watch you use my body and I want to watch your eyes when pleasure takes over your mind.