tagMatureRandy Old Folks' Home Ch. 02

Randy Old Folks' Home Ch. 02

byLaPatitMort©

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."

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