6 comments/ 74802 views/ 2 favorites At Seventy? By: ILuvAnal Author's Note: Your feedback is important to me. I cannot improve as a writer if you are not willing to give constructive feedback. This story is very different from my other submissions. I hope you enjoy! She was sitting on the porch swing drinking her morning tea. It was a beautiful morning in May of her seventieth year. May was always her favorite month. The sun was warm, but there was still a slight chill in the morning air. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the heat of the sun on her face. She could hear the din of the riding lawn mower in the back yard. Her husband of fifty years was mowing the lawn for the first time this year. The sweet smell of fresh cut grass began to fill the air. She opened her eyes as her man, sitting high on the riding mower, rounded the corner and passed by. His attention was focused solely on the task at hand. If had noticed her sitting there in her nightgown and housecoat, he didn't acknowledge her presence. A few moments later, he turned the corner and once again disappeared. Once again she closed her eyes. She pulled the nightgown and housecoat up, exposing her legs to the sun. A slight push of her foot propelled the swing backward. When the swing moved forward, a light breeze entered the open nightgown and brushed her naked crotch. The cool air on her sex startled her at first, but it also felt strangely wonderful. A few minutes passed and once again her man rode past her. She opened her eyes, hoping that he would see her there exposing her lower half to him. He glanced in her direction, but just as quickly looked ahead. Twenty years ago he would have slowed or stopped the mower and made a gesture for her to expose herself to him, but not for many years had he done that. She remembered how she rarely complied with such requests and when she did, she displayed annoyance. Today she would have been thrilled for the attention and she could not understand why she had reacted so in the past. Did he not find her appealing any more? Or had her reaction over the years stop him from asking. Each forward movement of the swing pushed more chilled air between her thighs. She pulled her clothing higher, exposing more of herself to wonderful feeling, pretending it was his breath. Feelings she believed long dead slowly began to build. Could it be she was actually getting aroused? Twice more he rode past. He never looked in her direction. Disappointed, she got up from the swing and went into the house. As she walked, she felt lithe in her stride. Entering her bedroom, she was drawn to the bottom drawer of her dresser. She pulled open the drawer, pushed some sweaters aside and removed an old shoebox. Looking at the contents of the box, she remembered how she had protested whenever he pulled out the camera during one of their love making sessions. He had convinced her that someday she would be glad to have the reminders of their passions. "Someday" had come. One by one she looked at the old Polaroids. Each documented a time of their life when passion ran wild. Their sex life had been wonderful, passionate and, at times, down right kinky up until ten or fifteen years ago. Though she could barely remember what she had eaten for lunch yesterday, she could clearly remember the time each photo had been taken. The old photos heightened the feelings that the swing had awakened. But some weren't that old. She came across one she had taken on his fiftieth birthday. He was tied, gagged and had a vibrator stuck in his anus. She remembered how much he enjoyed being tied up and "plugged in". The picture put a smile on her face. Yes, their love life had been quite active and varied. She tried to think back to when it had ended. It didn't end suddenly, but had tailed off over a couple of years. "Why?", she asked herself. She knew the answer. No matter how many times he had told her how beautiful and sexy she was, she didn't think so. She looked at the woman in the photos and then looked into the mirror. It was hard to believe they were once both one and the same. She also remembered that she had always been unsatisfied with her body. When he had taken the pictures, she said she was fat. But she had never been fat and he had always told how beautiful she looked. In the foolishness of her youth, she failed to listen to him. Since she no longer considered herself as "sexy", she couldn't believe he could see her that way (despite his words). She began shutting herself down. She looked at herself again in the mirror. If she could go back in time, she would feel different about herself. The thought changed her perception of the way she saw herself now. She would not make the mistake again. How silly she had been to allow such feelings to limit her then. He would have filled a truck with pictures and videos of her and him- had she let him. How many more momentos of their bliss would there be here today, invoking more pleasant memories? Also, arthritis had, at times, made coitus painful and she had begun losing her natural lubricants. It also took longer for him to achieve enough arousal to penetrate her. Somewhere along the way they had, without discussion, decided it was no longer worth trying. They had relinquished their sex life to only memories and a few snapshots in a shoebox. The last time he crawled into bed with her and tried to play, she quickly rebuffed him. That was when- six or seven years ago? Picking up another photo, she studied it. It was of her giving him a blow job- an act she didn't perform very often, but when she did, it was most pleasurable for both. The next photo she looked at, she had taken. All it showed was the upper half of his face and her abdomen. His eyes were looking adoringly into the camera while his mouth was firmly pressed against her crotch and his tongue was tickling her most sensitive place. She remembered how much he enjoyed licking and sucking her sex, while his fingers probed the inner depths of her vagina and anus. For him, performing oral sex on her was a labor of love. Her memories had reminded her how good he was performing it. It often took a long time for her to achieve orgasm, but he didn't care- as long as, in the end, she attained the goal. The images were invoking powerful and beautiful memories. Without realizing it, she had moved one of her hands between her legs and was gently caressing the little spot on the top of her vagina. Her nipples grew hard. Though dry at first, she soon felt moisture oozing from her inner well. That feeling of pleasure, she once so enjoyed, was still there! At the very bottom of the box, she found the videotape. She had become furious when she discovered he had taped one of their most lurid sessions. She had demanded that he destroy it (and he promised he had), but there it was. She picked up the tape- now suddenly joyous he hadn't put it on a fire. She went into the living room, and slipped the video into the VCR. She thought for a moment before turning on the machine. No, she couldn't watch this alone. Maybe they had been wrong to let it go away without a fight. Yes, the arthritis was still there and yes, it might take more time. The greatest irony was that now, they had plenty of time, but time was running out. And there was always Tylenol and KY Jelly. She heard the lawn mower coming back around to the front of the house. Maybe he had it in him to love her one more time. This time she would make certain that he noticed her on the porch. She slid the housecoat off her shoulders, allowed it to puddle on the floor, and then she pulled the nightgown over her head. With a newfound sense of beauty and youth, she headed for the door. She couldn't turn back the hands of time, but she could use up the time left on the clock. Do they still make film for that old camera? At Seventy? h. 02 Authors Note: This is the sequel to “At Seventy?” found in the mature section. You should read it before reading this story. Thanks to all those that commented! She felt exposed standing on the porch. Of course she was exposed. She was completely naked! For a moment she reconsidered, but just as quickly dismissed the idea of turning back into the house. The same cool breeze that tickled her naked pubis was now chilling her entire body. What was taking him so long to come around to the front of the house? She decided that if she was going to follow through, she was going to have to leave the shadow of the eaves and move out into the warming sun. She glanced at the only neighbor's house that could see her. Today is what- Tuesday. The couple that owned the house would be at work. It was Tuesday-right? Since he had retired, each day seemed like every other. As she stood in the full sun, she remembered how much she had enjoyed laying in the sun. They owned a camp on the shore of a nearby lake. Most days, after their children had grown, there was never anyone about. She would often pull her chaise lounge out into the sun and steal a few hours of naked bliss. She had never shared with him that she did that while he was at work. Why? She stood leaning against the railing, head back and eyes closed. How delicious the moment felt. A few minutes passed before he was finally getting closer. She opened her eyes and hoped he would look her way. What then? She knew the answer. She had come this far. Her fears were quickly quieted. He looked at her, then looked back to the lawn. Panic struck her for a brief moment. It must have taken a minute for his mind to catch up with his eyes. He slammed on the brakes, bringing the mower to a lurching stop. She wished had a camera to capture the look on his face. Smiling, she gave him her best "come hither" look and she wagged her index finger at him He fumbled for a moment, trying to turn the key to the machine. Then, with agility she had not seen for many years, he dismounted and strode to her. She watched him approach. He was still handsome man for his age, and for the moment, spry. She placed a finger to her lips to hush him, when he tried to speak before he was to her. She did not want the momentum broken by a "What the hell are you doing?" Or "Are you crazy?" comment. When he was close, she put her arms around him and whispered in his ear. Then she placed her lips on his and let his tongue dance in her mouth. There was another place she wanted that tongue to dance. He lowered his arm and his finger sought and found her sex. Her knees weakened. They shared another long kiss. She whispered in his ear again. He looked at his watch, nodded, let her go and went back to the John Deere. She noticed that he twice turned back to gaze upon her. Making certain that it was not all a dream- she guessed. It wasn't until he was back on the mower and moving away, that she pirouetted and returned to the house. She had ten minutes to make it perfect. Outside, the sound of the lawn mower was replaced with the sound of the car starting. ***** It was like the old days, before there was a TV in the bedroom. The only TV was in the living room. A blanket and pillows were laid out on the floor facing the TV. She had rummaged about and found another old shoebox. This one contained their old "toy" collection. Just like the box that had contained the old photos, she had considered many times discarding the old box and it's contents, but she had never been able to do so. She took the old vibrator to an outlet and tested it. It still worked. An extension cord was retrieved from the broom closet and the device soon took a place on the blanket along side a tube of KY jelly and his butt plug. She doubted that he would want that now, but she wanted everything laid out like the days no longer forgotten. The curtains were drawn and a candle lit. When he walked in, everything was ready. She was lying upon the blanket, legs spread and her wares proudly displayed. He set the bag he was holding on the TV and looked at her. She could see the love and lust in his eyes. Her heart leaped when she saw the bag. He emptied the contents of the bag and began fumbling with the wrapper. Once opened, he picked up the camera. It was the old POLAROID LAND CAMERA. State of the art in its day, but like the two people in the room, it was out dated. But the local drug store still had film for it. The manager couldn't promise that it was any good and had given it to him. The flash momentarily blinded her. He didn't wait for the first picture to develop, he set it aside, gave her time to strike another pose and took another. It mattered to neither of them whether or not the pictures actually captured her- it was the game that mattered; the game of seduction, love and eventual release. He set the camera at her side and stripped his own clothes off. Twenty years ago, it would have been a swift, nearly violent act. But today, it was a slower, more difficult procedure. She didn't mind. She watched as each piece was removed- exposing more of him each time. He stood in front of her, his semi-hard penis pointed directly at her. She picked up the camera and took a couple of pictures of her own, before he carefully settled on the blanket at her side. They kissed passionately for a few minutes, she reached for the remote control and turned on the TV and VCR. The two elderly lovers watched silently at their youthful selves on the screen. Though the image was in black and white, she could plainly remember to color of the bedspread and the walls. Just like it had been today, the movie started out with them sharing a long, passionate kiss. In video and real life, they were exploring each other's bodies with their hands. It didn't take long before the hands on the TV and the blanket were moving in unison. She looked at the people on the tube. My how they have aged. He was once so muscular, his fingers were the girth of a hotdog and his buns were taught and round. All products of years of working in his machine shop. Now, he was a mere shadow of himself- 20 or 30 pounds lighter. His buns were no longer taught, but they were still round and cute. Her self-appraisal was much harsher. Gone were the firm full orbs whose nipples stood tall and erect when stimulated. Her breasts now laid low and flat on her chest. Her thick dark hair had thinned and whitened on her head and her pubis. In the video, her own buttocks held her weight. Now, they looked flat and offered no resistance. She chastised herself. Wasn't it such thinking that had caused the decline in their sex life? She had his member in her grasp, just like her younger self on the TV. On TV he was erect and stone hard, but in life, she was being rewarded with a gradual increase in his hardness. When the scene showed him slowly descending to her withers, stopping only to give some much welcomed attention to her nipples, she asked him if he thought he could still do that. He looked into her eyes and she knew the answer. It was as if he had been awaiting her permission. Without hesitation he began to "dive". Her nipples responded to his manipulations. Each grew firmer with the attention of tongue and fingers. He licked over, around and through them with long sweeping motions of is tongue. The nipple that wasn't in his mouth was being teased and tweaked and twirled with his fingers. She felt her hips rise in response. OH, yes! When he finally managed to sidle himself down her body, her eyes were closed. She no longer watched the image on the screen, she was living it. For the first time she heard the music playing in the background of the video. It was the tape they almost always made love to. The feeling of his breath and tongue on her vagina and easy flow of the clarinet sent her back into the past. From the video she heard herself say, "I feel naughty." That was her code to him to play with and invade her anus. Oh, yes. I do feel naughty. Her man licked and teased her with his tongue. It penetrated her and then moved up to her clitoris. She reached to her side. He felt her move and looked to see what she was doing. When he did, he was looking directly into the lens of the old camera. After the flash and the sound of the expelling print, he went back to work. He loved the way she felt and tasted in his mouth. He took one of his hands and moved into position to penetrate her with a finger. Over the music she could hear her younger self giving him instructions. “Oh, baby, find my spot. You’re close. That’s it. Yes, baby.” He was hearing the words, too. He gently pressed his finger against her opening. I light gasp escaped her lips when she felt his bony digit search for acceptance. Though she desperately wanted to echo her instruction come from the video, she was suddenly apprehensive and she tensed. She remembered the last time she had such feelings. It was on their wedding night fifty-one years ago. The very first time she had allowed a man into her womb. Why was she doing this now. She wanted to feel him inside. She wanted to feel his fingers rubbing the walls of her inner sanctum. His finger continued to roam, rub and press. Despite her arousal and his saliva, she was too dry. He reached for the tube of lubricant and applied a generous amount on his finger. His finger found and slipped gently into her. Her muscles clamped on him. He waited for her to relax, before pushing his entire finger in. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed feeling of her inner warmth. “Oh, baby.” It was her seventy year-old voice. “Find my spot!” She raised her hips and with her hands pulled his face firmly against her. Their young counterparts were now moaning and groaning. She was in the full throes of her first orgasm. The sounds were exciting her, she wanted to enjoy that feeling again. His finger settled upon her inner spot and he sucked her clitoris into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. He could feel her responding. Her hips rocked and her vagina tensed. Then, all at once, she clamped his head tightly with her thighs. An animal like growl came from her mouth. She had come. It was not the violent orgasm of the past, but it was an orgasm none the less. As it moved through her body, an overwhelming emotion came over her. Without warning she began to sob uncontrollably. It had happened before, but it was always when her hormones were askew. He eased himself up between her legs and hovered over her. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” She opened her eyes and looked at him. His face was smeared with the combination of lube, saliva and her juices. There was concern and love in his eyes. “I’m fine. That was so wonderful! I need to feel you inside of me.” She reached and found his penis. It was firm, but not the rock solid as in the past. She guided the tip to her vagina and it slowly entered her. Within a few moments the two lovers were moving in unison. They were kissing. She wanted to wrap him up in her legs, but the arthritis in her hips prevented it. She felt him tense. He raised himself up. He buried himself deep into her. His thrusting stopped. She opened her eyes. “Come baby.” She said. “I need to felt it.” Her coaxing was all it took to send him over the edge. He came. He rolled to his side and pulled her close. Looking directly into her eyes he said, “I Love You!” “I love you, too,” She replied. The session on the TV had ended and the screen was filled with snow and only a “hiss” came from the speakers. The two lovers on the floor remained embraced. He broke the silence. He was running his fingers through her hair. “You know you’re more beautiful than the day we met.” She knew he meant it. She could see it in his eyes. “Thank you,” she replied. Tears once again welled in her eyes. She reached for the pictures she had taken. She found the one that showed his face buried in her crotch. The quality of the film had not been very good. They looked at it together. “Next time I push you away, show me this picture.”