4 comments/ 361439 views/ 17 favorites Not So Old By: marybethf It is the middle of the night and Jon Mason returns from the bathroom. Sara sleeps on her back and the bright moonlight filters through the curtains casting a soft glow across her body. Through the open window, he can hear the roar of the surf. The sheet, wadded and tossed towards the bottom of the bed, leaves just one of her feet covered. He stands beside the bed with one hand resting on the headboard and marvels at how beautiful she is. At fifty-nine, her beauty rivals that of women a third her age. Her hair is long, straight, and the beautiful gray some women's hair becomes. Neither care that he is thirty-three years younger than she is. Neither care that she is his mother. With each breath, her sumptuous breasts rise and fall. Her slim stomach and lovely mound remain covered with his orgasm. Her long slender legs lay spread apart, one knee slightly cocked to the side. Jon stands for a few minutes just watching, his erection again begging for release, bobbing up and down occasionally, sometimes casting a shadow across her face as if it were making love to her mouth. He does not touch himself and instead, he saves it for her. He knows it will not be long. Her arm reaches out slowly. Softly, her long fingers stroke the underside of his cock. "I missed you. I missed this lovely cock." "I know Mom. I had to..." She interrupts and whispers. "I love the warmth of you next to me on a cool night. You're the perfect thing to cover me with." Her fingers touch him all along his shaft as it rises and falls, and then she touches the large smooth head with a single finger. "For some reason, I love this part the most." She continues touching just the head, then her thumb slides over it once or twice before touching that tender place just under the tip. It is the hair-trigger for him. The one that will make him fire, shoot, unload. Her head moves a little, just enough to wrap her lips around the tip of his cock. He feels her suck and lick that wonderful spot with her lips and her tongue. It is just a reflex movement, but his cock jerks upward and away from her lips. "No Jon." He senses her disappointment. It falls back down, where it had been. "Much better." She resumes her kissing. His hand tightens on the headboard. His legs grow a little weaker. She senses his growing discomfort. "Lay next to me." She pats the sheet and slides towards the other side of the bed. He lies down and moves next to her. His hand rests on her mound. A finger slides gently through her labia until it pulls her clit up. She gasps as he first touches it. "I love that," she whimpers. His thumb touches opposite the finger and grasps her clit. "Me too. One of my favorite places on your body." She kisses his mouth. Her tongue is deep inside, probing for his. They find, touch, and rub against each other. Seconds, maybe minutes, maybe longer, pass as their tongues make love to each other. She stops, and then sucks his lower lip between hers, then into her mouth. Her teeth nibble. She sucks it deeper. She lets go and nibbles more. "You're the best kisser Mom." His hand slides up her stomach, and rests on her breast. A finger darts around and over the nipple. The dark pink nipple grows and hardens under his touch. "Nice," is all she says. She grasps the other breast and kneads it. He lean down and sucks. She gasps. He pulls more of her breast into his mouth. She moans. The sound is louder than the ocean. He swats and bats at the nipple with his tongue. She moans again. His cock rests against the top of her hip, pulsing, tapping as it rises and falls, almost like it is gently knocking on a door, begging to enter a warm inviting place. He strains to look up at her without losing contact with her breast. While fondling the other breast, her fingers stroke against his face. Her lips pucker as she blows a kiss. "I'm so wet. Fill me with your warm smooth cock. Make me overflow with your cum. I need you to fuck your Mother. Ride me hard, my Son and my lover, ride me hard. Fuck me like you did earlier." Her legs spread wider and he moves between them. A glow, a smile, fills her face. All the foreplay, all the touches, were good. This was what she l-o-v-e-s the most, and he too. "Right there, just slide it back and forth a little. Oh when that swollen head slides over my clit ... like that ... just like that..." Jon can tell from the now so familiar expression on her face, she is basking in the warmth of a pleasurable experience, one that he can only wonder what it might be like. For her, it will last until long after they stop. He continues to let the head of his cock massage the entrance of her pussy. Her hand rests on his shoulder, squeezing it, rubbing it. Her face contorts and twists. Her breathing stops and then becomes labored. She bites her lower lip. A loud, "Ah-h-h," echoes though the room. Her orgasm comes, peaks, and wanes. "It was so wonderful." That is her endearing way of letting him know he can now enjoy his orgasm. She sits up and leans over his cock, covered in both of their fluids. "The best part of your body. Well one of them." She takes his still erect cock and begins sucking the whole thing into her mouth. He watches as her lips slide along the taught skin. She gulps as his cum fills her mouth. She kisses his mouth and he tastes himself. He wipes away a small amount as it dribbles from the corner of her mouth. They lay next to each other, the fronts of their bodies pressing together, their nipples touching, their lips resting on each other, their fingers touching, touching everywhere. "I've never felt love so wonderful as with you Mom. Never." He lies and watches as she drifts back to sleep. To him, she is so sexy, so dreamy. He loves to look at her, awake or asleep. Even asleep, she exudes sensual beauty and raw sexual passion. Once she is asleep, Jon lays on his back with his hands clasped behind his head, thinking about how lucky he is to have found a woman that shares so many of the same feelings he has, and visa versa. * Jon's parents married later in life than most people do. He was born that same year. Growing up, Jon's Dad had been one of those 'my way or the highway' kind of men. For years he thought that was the way men just were. As he grew older and visited friends homes, he started comparing other men with his Dad. Not all of them acted as his Dad did towards members of their families. He did not really 'date' until he was in college and never had a chance to do much more than kiss, actually just an occasional peck, until he moved far away from home after graduation. Jon met Sue at the lake. His eyes fluttered in the bright sunlight and she was standing next to him. "Wow!" she exclaimed as she looked at his swimsuit. She did not wait for an invitation and sat on the edge of his beach towel. In a velvet soft voice, she murmured, "Were you dreaming about me?" "Sorry," he mumbled. He knew there was not much he could do about it and chose to sit. "That's too bad. Now it is gone." He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the water, not stopping until it was above their waist. He pulled her close, rubbing his erection against her. "Oh baby," was all she said just before she inserted her tongue nearly to his throat. With one swipe of her hand across the front of his swimsuit, she reached in and wrapped her fingers around the turgid shaft. "Very nice," she groaned around his tongue as her fingers roamed along the full length of his cock. Sue became a regular in Jon's bed, spending several nights a week with him. She also helped him learn all the details of making love. The month had been heaven. They were alone in the glass elevator to the restaurant on the 25th floor to celebrate. She punched the stop button. "What?" "Shut up." She shoved her hand in his pants and grabbed his cock. "You're not hard. Don't you find this short skirt and my long legs exciting?" She pulled her skirt up showing him her naked pussy. She gripped his cock harder. "I still don't feel it getting hard. What do I have to do?" "Maybe it's the fact everyone in the lobby can see us." "Why? That is making my pussy drip ... a lot. Get it up and fuck me. Fuck me or I won't start the elevator." Jon was not able to and that was the last time he saw her. Her lessons were not lost on him. Many of his future women would comment on his skills in bed, or in public. Occasionally, he would even run his hand under their skirt as they walked down a sidewalk at night. Sometimes they would pull him into an alley, push him up against the wall, and fuck him. There were some dry spells between women. He tried to have standards and never felt it was worthwhile to pickup a woman just to fuck. He could often have a higher quality jerk off than the sex some women could give him. He found some were even worse than he was before Sue so aptly taught him. It was sad but true. * Fran was his first older woman. Not old mind you, but she was at least twenty years older than he was. She sat next to him at the bar one night with lovely 'fuck me' blue eyes that were watching only him. Her graceful fingers slipped though the moisture on her drink glass as if she was trying to bring it to a pleasant orgasm. Just watching had his erection straining at his zipper, ready to feel her hand around it. At first, she said nothing, just a slow swipe of her tongue across already wet lips, then a simple, "Hello," in a sultry voice that probably launched a thousand ships. Even without the hand action on the glass, he would have been lusting after her. There was something about the long brown curls draped over one shoulder, the way her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to give him a wonderful look into the chasm between her tanned well formed breasts, or even the red lipstick on her smooth kissable lips. Of course, the smile she just flashed him while he was mentally fucking her on top of the bar in front of everyone would have been enough to drag him by the teeth into any bed. "Can I get you another drink?" Her glass was still full and he was just teasing her, almost playing with her, waiting to see if she would make the first move. She dipped her index finger deep into the drink exactly the way he wanted to dip his finger inside her. Her finger stroked in and out a few times before she sucked her finger dry with a nosy slurping sound. He could still hear the drink sizzling. "Want some?" she cooed. There was no reason to answer that stupid question. 'Hell yeah!' he screamed in his mind. He was playing it cool though. He quietly nodded in her direction as he laid his hand at the top of her thigh. Her skirt short, her thigh bare, her legs apart, and she nudged his fingers up a little more. It did not take a genius to know it would be okay with her if he just happened to snake his fingers all the way up. She was wet. He was hard. She sucked her whiskey soaked finger again and he circled and massaged her clit. In a sultry slow drawl, the words raped her lips, "Honey, you do that like a pro." Her hand touched his crotch and she moaned softly. "Maybe you'd let me refine my skills on this." She held his hand and led him to her Mercedes parked at the edge of the neighboring parking lot. "Call me Fran," she told him as she opened the back door and slid across the seat. Before the door was closed, his pants were unzipped and his erection waving in the cool night air. "This is a fine specimen," she proclaimed as she tightly wrapped her fingers near the base of the shaft and watch the head swell. Fran's lips fit over the head like a custom made pair of lips. The faint glow of the parking lot lights though the steamed windows was just enough for him to see exactly what was happening. The steamed windows became more so with each gasp. Rope after rope of thick milky cum filled her mouth. Not a drop remained between his legs. She smiled as she wiped her mouth. "I know there's more." He knew from the way she had just said that, he was in for a night of oral pleasure. She followed him to his place. His boss was used to him calling in sick. Now years after graduating from college and moving away from home, Jon receives a call from his Mom. It has been a while since he last visited his Mom and Dad. He loves his Mom. He hates his Dad. Jon hates the way Dad treated him, and Jon hates the way Dad treated her. "Jon..." He can hear her crying and struggling to speak. She starts words and never finishes. She sniffles and blows her nose. "What's wrong Mom?" "I left your Dad." "Good for you." "I moved out and got my own place. Your Dad was being so horrible to me. It got a lot worse after you moved away. He would hit me at times. He had even stopped fucking me. He got the divorce papers soon after I left." Jon is slightly shocked to her his Mom say 'fucking' in a conversation. Behind their bedroom door, he used to hear them say all kinds of things to each other intermixed with other sounds of passion. There were the usual moans and groans, grunts, and even the smack of a hand on bare skin. He often tried to picture Mom spanking Dad. He assumed it was the other way around. "What can I do? Do you want to come stay with me? You know you're my most favorite woman." "I'm okay Son." "No you're not. Come and let me make wild passionate love to you. You'll never want another man after me." "You're doing a good job of making me think I'm still desirable." "Oh Mom! You are incredibly sexy. Any guy would be jealous of me as we walked hand in hand along the sidewalk. And your legs, Mom you know you have the greatest legs." "Maybe I should let you take me for a romp in the sack. I might like that." He knows she is teasing him and she thinks he is teasing her. "Are your panties getting wet thinking about me making love to you?" "Jon ... you nasty man. How'd you know?" "Because I'm rock hard thinking about you." "What are you doing to me in your thoughts?" "I'm dragging my tongue through your sopping wet pussy." "And I'm sucking your hard cock." "My tongue is pulling your clit from its hood and then I nibble and suck it." "I pound my hands against the floor of the living room as I cum. I'm laying in front of the fireplace exactly where you first put your hands over my pussy." "I don't let you stop and I press my fingers against that spot in your pussy." "My God YES Jon! Touch my g-spot. Press hard and make me roar. Make it hard for me to breathe." "Your fingers are wrapped tight around my cock." "I'm guiding it into my pussy. Drive your cock deep in my pussy. Fuck me!" "I love the way it looks as my cock slides into your cunt." "Yes, yes! My cunt! I love it when you call it a cunt! I want it filled with your huge cock, my Son's lovely cock. Fill my cunt with your cum." "I wish it were thicker." "It's the biggest cock I've ever had in me. I'm cuming, again!" The warm stream of cum spurts repeatedly as it lands all over his stomach and crotch. "You made me cum Mom. That was the best." "Me too Son, and more than once." "You're so sexy Mom. It could really be like that in person. Don't you know?" "I've had a few dreams about you, but I've never, well rarely, let myself think about us ... together." "Me too. Maybe it's time to see what the reality would be like." "Oh Jon. The fantasy could never be as good as the phone sex for you. Maybe for me, but never for you." "How do you know? I've always thought of you as a 'hot babe' you know?" "Shit Jon, you're too kind to say that. We'd have to keep the lights off and the drapes drawn so you wouldn't puke on me." "Listen Mom, I've seen you naked, I've even peeked a few times when you were in the shower. You are so lovely. It is Dad's loss that you are not with him. It's my turn to show you what real love is all about." "Let me think for a few days." "No way! I am not letting you think about this just so later you can say no. Mom, I am going to hang up and jump in the car." "I have money too. I had great jobs and I have made a lot. Your Dad never knew how much I had saved. I can help you." "I just want to hold you tight in my arms. I just want to sleep next to you after we make love." "Oh Jon, that does sound good." The next call is to his boss, Mr. Jackson. Jon explains there is a family emergency and will be away at least a week. He tosses a few clothes in a suitcase, makes sure he has paid all the bills lying around, and locks all the windows. Jon heads east on the Interstate. In the headlights, the road stripes pass under the car one after another. Mileposts along the side of the road pass, 256, 257 ... He entertains himself by stroking his cock, listening to porn tapes, and thinking about his Mom. It has been a long night's drive and now the sun is coming up, almost blinding him for a few hours. That is one of the problems driving east in the morning. The hot Starbucks coffee and egg sandwich help keep him awake. The thing that keeps him awake the most are the hot thoughts of what awaits him. The coast is lovely. The very white sand of the beach contrasts nicely against the various shades of blue water. He had forgotten how lovely this part of the coast is as he drives along the beach road. The houses pass, 5902, 5912, she said the address is 5949. There it is. The house is still painted dark pink with white trim. The back of the house faces the ocean with nothing between it and the water. Sand has drifted across the pavement of the driveway. Parked in the carport is her nice BMW. He parks behind it. Mom is standing in the opened door. The doorframe hides all but her right side. She is still just as pretty as he remembers. Not bothering to get his suitcase out of the trunk, he walks quickly, almost runs, towards the front door. His face presses against hers instantly. Their mouths are open, tongues looking for each other, finding them, and rubbing together. He lets his hands roam across her back, her hips, and his fingers dig through the fabric of her skirt into the crack of her ass. Her hands press against him mirroring the movements of his hands. Her body feels as good, no better, than most women he has hugged, felt, and kissed. He feels a hand over his bulging pants grasping his cock firmly. "Oh Jon. I want you. Want you right here on the cold hard terrazzo floor. I cannot wait even long enough to close the door or to go into the bedroom. Take me right here. Now!" They lay down, their legs dangling over the threshold of the door. He began kissing her chest as he undresses her, as she undresses him. She demands, "Just fuck me hard." In the doorway, naked, the afternoon sun starting to shine on their bodies, they hump, suck, lick, fuck, and made love. Later, they are able to pause just long enough to close the door and walk into the bedroom. Jon's arm is around her waist and he looks at her face. "Even better than our phone sex." "I don't know, you should see my phone. Didn't take time to clean it off after our call so I could smell myself and think of you every time the phone would ring." They lay together, their tongues leisurely exploring the other's mouth. Their hands are enjoying the travels over hills and though valleys. The sounds of pleasure are louder than the roaring surf nearby. He hates to pull his face away from hers, but he wants to sample other parts of her body. His hands stoke her face and play with her ears as he kisses the indention of her throat. She moans and says, "Your Dad would never kiss me there." He drags his tongue along her throat to her chin and kisses her lips. "I'll kiss you everywhere." He teases her clit as he nibbles his way across her breasts letting the tip of his tongue lightly drag across the bumpy brown skin around her nipple. The flat tips of the erect nipples plead. He ignores them. They plead. He sucks them deep inside his mouth. She breathes deeply. Not-So-Old Age Home [©2011 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS ARE WELL OVER THE AGE OF 18 WITH IDENTITIES DISGUISED; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE] [Community service at the old age home; what could be worse...or better?] * Okay, I admit it. I was a jerk. I was busted for DWI. The judge could've put me away for a little time, first offense, or let me walk. Instead, he split the difference, giving me the old 'community service' routine. I had to do 100 hours of community service: "see the court clerk and choose." There was a list of ten places, including the Agnes Senior Citizens'(ASC) Center. I picked that, because seniors were by far the easiest group to get along with: no hazards there. As I drove up to the ASC, just north of Los Angeles, I got my first surprise. It wasn't an old age home. The courts had screwed up, thinking that an over age-55 home development was the same as a (creepy) retirement home. This place was actually a subdivision of up-scale homes with a clubhouse. I walked in and got surprise number two. The place was empty and I set up my presentation. Then, it filled up. Well, the women there all laughed. I had brought knitting supplies and projects, you know: knit one, pearl two. It was perfect...if you were seventy-five. The women that arrived were all 45 to 47. That was because the rules of these places normally are that only one of the buyers needs to be at least 55. So, instead of grandmothers, I was confronted with hot MILF soccer moms. Some wore tennis shorts, others slacks, with one even wearing hot pants. When I told them why I was there (court orders) and what I had planned (Knitting 101), I received three types of reaction. The whole place erupted in laughter at the thought of being 'Whistler's Mother' and sitting idly with a ball of yarn. Then a lot of them just up and left. Of the 30 there, 7 remained. All of a sudden, there was ashen silence. I didn't have the slightest idea what was 'going down'. A quorum of the remaining women convened amongst the folding chairs. Then there was lots of whispering and laughing. They broke: Six sat down while one came forward. Stella was forty-five. She was the one wearing hot pants. From a distance, she was as hot as any woman I have ever seen. As she approached, I could see her face had some 'character' lines; her legs had veining that some would object to; and other flaws. That is nitpicking, though. Her figure was good for a woman of any age; for a woman past 45, it approached miraculous. Frankly, considering the fact that this was 'punishment' from the courts, nothing she could say or do would bother me. Stella: "Young man...Doug is it? Doug, we took an impromptu vote. Now don't freak out or anything, just because we like privacy." I noticed that the other six were not just sitting idly but were a flurry of activity. Two were closing windows, blinds, and locking doors. Two others were rolling out two cots that were in reserve for local crises like fires or riots. Another was adjusting the lights. Stella: "We KNOW that this is court ordered. One of these fine lightly aged women is an attorney, in fact. She said that you either perform to OUR satisfaction or the community service time is thrown out and you have to serve HARD time. In other words, we have you by the balls, young man!" With that, she actually reached into my draw-string athletic pants, gripping my unit. She gave it a squeeze. Ouch! Well, they had me. I was at their mercy. I mean, they were a pack of [slightly] over-age women. What COULD they do, really? Sure enough, I noticed that all the windows were closed, all blinds cinched up tightly, and all doors locked with 'CLOSED' signs. Worse, their cots were set up in the middle of the folding chair 'audience'. Even more ominous, the lights had gone from overall room fluorescents to focused overhead spot mercury lamps, making the cots the only illuminated point in the room. Uh-oh!! Before I had a chance to comment on the 'arrangements', Stella had grabbed me by my 'Brady Bunch' tee shirt and dragged me into the light. Those hags all applauded as she stood me up like a mannequin. Then her slightly spotted hands went up and down me like a trophy, ending up at the belt line of my draw-string athletic pants. She undid the knot and pushed them down. I wasn't wearing briefs—only a supporter. Stella reached to the back and announced: Stella: "Attention, ladies: XXX-Large!! I think this boy hangs some serious meat. Let's just see what the court has ordered up for us?!!" As the murder of magpies all cackled, she roughly grabbed my manhood with one hand, the other cupping my old scrotum. They spontaneously clapped and chanted "G0" as her hand keyholed me past six, seven, eight, nine, and finally ten inches of market ready sausage. The cheering reached playoff volume at that point. The "GO GO"'s now resumed. As I stood there, steel hard, two other women stood up and started to undress her while another finished with my clothing. Stella was all of 45, but wow...her hair was dyed blond with large shocks of grey. Her original color was unknowable and unimportant at this point. At five foot six, she looked like Pamela Anderson would have looked at that age. Well, this WAS an upscale development; she looked like one of those trophy wives on 'the real housewives of xxxx' where the ladies had stuff done. I didn't know, nor care, whether those boobs were real. This was court ordered punishment, and it was a tough job...but someone had to do it. As I stood up, I felt compelled to flex my 'guns', hoping the ladies would enjoy seeing twenty inch arms on their 'boy-toy' of the week. They applauded. Then, as we stood near each other in the spotlight, one lady cupped my family jewels. She first tried using one hand, but their size and heft required both of her hands. Meanwhile, another of the women turned my face to the side, laying a frenetic French kiss to my lips. As all of this was going on, Stella was still standing, enjoying the 'preparations'. So one attractive woman was making out with me while another cupped my seed bags and a third fell to her knees. Her talented 47 year old lips proceeded to do a number on my ten inches of pride and joy. I'm embarrassed to admit that I had never been 'serviced' before, always going directly to 'it' without foreplay. Well, let me tell you. Foreplay was fun too. As my powerful cock swelled, I had to pull her off. Fun is fun, but I would never waste my 'juice' down the gullet. As if by magic, in unison the 'ladies in waiting' withdrew, opening the way for just myself and Stella. I put her flat on her back on that folding cot. Getting between those slightly aged but velvety smooth and incredibly tanned and shapely legs, I smiled, remembering that this was court-ordered. As I halted for only a second thinking about that, one of the women in attendance thought I was waiting for her(!!) She sprang up and inserted my huge babymaker into the crevice. Stella moaned and all of the women moaned in unison. Thereafter it was remarkable. You won't believe me, but every sound...I mean EVERY sound...that Stella made, the other women emulated so quickly that it sounded as one. At that point, I felt a strange power. Could I just WILL them to do things? With my oversized cockhead just peeping into the entrance, I paused again, this time on purpose. Sure enough, another woman sprang up. She grabbed my mighty cock and started stirring it in there, exactly as if she were stirring a thick soup. Stella moaned in pleasure, as did the clutch of women. I closed my eyes, really liking it too. Stella's still tight pussy was alternately gripping and releasing my long sword. At first it hurt because her muscles in there were still strong. At some point I just started digging it. I bent forward, gently pushing the 'lady in attendance' away. I put those shapely legs over my arms, rolling that middle age soccer mom into a compact package. I began pile-driving into her with titanic force. My balls were flying; as they descended they made a loud slapping sound. The inner springs of that cot were straining, about to give way. Stella had one, then two, and finally three all-out orgasms. The crowd howled in time with her, almost a wolf pack howl. Finally, one of the women stood up, pointing to my family jewels. Bernice: "Oh, God, look at those things! They're huge! Wait, he's about to blow, and I mean BIG TIME! I wonder if this young stud knows that none of us have had 'the change' yet. I don't think her husband would appreciate a new kid, or believe it was his: not with his pathetic 'count'..." Neither one of us heard what they were saying, so Bernice actually put her head down to remind Stella. Stella just pushed her away, dismissively. Stella: "Dear, you are doing great. Fuck me like THAT, and I will give birth...you STUD!!" Well, I was too into it to ponder the odds that I could knock up an 'old lady'. I was a man first and foremost, and this was what we were designed to do. I just grabbed her surprisingly firm behind as I rolled her up even more. Allowing my full weight to push me even deeper, the tiny opening on my cockhead expanded to the size of a gold doubloon. Meanwhile I could feel the other ladies' hands cupping my swollen bull sack as it tightened up, ready to fire. The women 'oohed and aahed' as they felt the pulse go thru, the surge of cum exploding out the length of my babymaker and eventually reaching her unprotected womb. One woman couldn't take it and let go, while another held on, feeling the first, second, third, and fourth powerful tidal wave. Panting, I kissed that lightly aged lover (Stella) and fell over. The women all clapped, their applause reaching crescendo levels as a 'creampie' of unbelievable thickness and volume seeped out. Bernice grabbed a flexible plastic cup from the refreshment table. She ran it along Stella's thigh, the cup indented to the contours of Stella's bikini-waxed smooth thigh. That cup took in every single loose sperm on that leg. Bernice then went to one of the cots in the darkness of the back and raised her dress, inserting that seed into her own dripping pussy. Stella now joined Bernice in the darkness of the rear as the other five ladies proceeded to keyhole my Johnson into ten inches of manhood once again. While one did that, another cupped the old family jewels. A third made out with me, while another whispered and blew into the other ear, saying terrible things (I mean TERRIBLE things) about what SHE would do with me if I was HER boy-toy, Well, that murder of crows did it. I was up again. Not only was I ten inches of chromium hardness; my balls were again inflated to the size of oranges, heavy with potent seed. Thereafter, it was not a pretty picture...but it was court ordered after all. I proceeded to just (barely) have enough to service all of those ladies. Okay, to be technical, three of them (including Bernice) had to settle for excess love that oozed out of their friends sperm-filled pussies. But, seed is seed, and all of those fine 'lightly aged' women had their gardens sown. I left that meeting room a wreck. It was the hardest day of my life, albeit the best one too. After the meeting, all seven of the women returned home, their snatches filled with my sperm-laden cum. Three of the women had second thoughts, and washed themselves out thoroughly. Stella, on the other hand, took no measures to do anything. Bernice got into a fight with her husband. It was ironic, as she was going to wash out until her wimpy cuckold harangued her for something trivial. At that point, furious, she sulked off into the study, put her legs up, keeping that warm pool of seed incubating deep inside of her. Three weeks later, I got a letter from the court, accepting my service as fully done. I'm not sure how they figured that except that those fine ladies just covered for me. Six weeks later, I got another letter. Stella, Bernice and two other ladies were pregnant...by me! They all said that they would cover for each other and convince the wimpy cuckolds that it was their doing. Then, surprise! Instead of any of them being mad, the three that were NOT pregnant insisted that I make a return 'guest appearance' at their clubhouse. Same ground rules, with all seven to be in attendance with rapt approval. If I didn't show, or didn't perform well, they would go back to the court and tell them that I hadn't served those hours. Oops! Well, I'm happy to tell you that it took that next session and one more. All seven of the fine, ever so slightly-aged women of the ASC were returned to the 'family way' by yours truly. It was tough, grueling work, but it was community service...and court ordered after all. Eight months after the first meeting, the now totally satisfied ladies of the ASC emailed me. They wondered if I would do VOLUNTARY service and address them about Lamaze, c-section, and other birthing options. I was an expert, after all (at least that was what they told their cuckolded husbands.) Well, who could resist? As I entered the room, it was a sea of swollen bellies, all of them sporting one fetus via yours truly (except for Stella and Bernice, who were expecting twins and triplets, resp.) There was great applause and fine refreshments. Then, after blinds were drawn and doors locked, the special guest (i.e. me) was asked to lie down. I did. Thereafter each beautifully pregnant lady proceeded to use my ten inch tool as their own scratching post, whether cowgirl or reverse cowgirl. After seven tingling pussies from seven incredibly well-preserved hot ladies, you better believe that I had a huge load. To my surprise, everything stopped. Two women lifted me into a sitting position as I was swung around. Another got a quart jug with a wide mouth. Yet another sexy lady proceeded to 'finish me off', her hand eventually becoming only a blur of motion. As my breath came faster and faster, I got that 'good feeling' and I blew...big time. All of the ladies there could hear as the powerful spray of my cock struck the insides of that quart jug with amazing force and volume. Jet after jet, spray after spray, the draining of my 'lizard' continued for several long minutes. The women began gasping in disbelief as that quart jug started actually filling. Finally, it was all over. I fell back to the cot, spent. More applause. Everyone broke up at that point. I assumed that they would wash out the jug or throw it away. No, Bernice had it tucked firmly under one arm. Me: "Just curious, what's with the jug?" Bernice: "Well, three of us have daughters that aren't married...they're not getting any younger after all."