The Gentlemen's Viagra Club Ch. 02

For those who have not read the first part of this saga, here's a quick summation: Whether you are a man or a woman and have lived with someone for a long time, and then that person dies as a result of a terminal illness, life can be depressing and lonely. Tradition suggests that most men die before their wives, but in these days of an increasing number of breast and ovarian cancer cases, sometimes it is the other way around.

And so it was for myself and three other retired men—Warren, Jeff, and Bill—who became my friends. I was a retired college English professor, Warren had worked in advertising, Jeff had been in real estate, and Bill had done some kind of work with the federal government, secret stuff. I had been dealt "mandatory retirement at 65" by the college, and the other three men, also in their 60s, had been eased into retirement by higher-ups in their companies. And yet, all of us were still relatively sound in body and in mind.

My wife had died five years earlier of breast cancer, and their wives also had died of a variety of causes. We had not know each other earlier in our lives, but we all ended up doing the same thing: selling our lonely empty houses in the suburbs and moving to small apartments in New York City. We gradually got to know each other as the result of pick-up chess games in Central Park. And we found that we all had something in common: our wives had died, and we were all mentally and physically healthy—but without partners.

One of the first sensible things we did was to combine our resources and finances and move into a spacious two-bedroom, four-bed luxury apartment overlooking Central Park.

"This is a nice place," Warren said. "But the only problem is: There's no sex in it. I'm still healthy enough to want and enjoy sex, but there isn't any. I have the money to afford a professional, but I don't want to have sex with a hooker. That's not very romantic."

"There may be a solution...," I said.

"Like what?"

"Like this." And that's how I got the idea of The Gentlemen's Viagra Club.

I advertised in the Village Voice and a couple of New York City campus newspapers that we were four professional men conducting a medical/psychological/physiological experiment to see if Viagra could really be a help to men in their sixties—but we needed non-professional female participants to help us with the experiment and would pay them $100 cash a session.

You would not believe the number of responses we got. Shelly Baines, a pretty blonde young freshman at New York University, was one of the first to apply. She seemed very open-minded when I explained to her how the experiment would work, so we decided to start with her—and me. The deal was we would see if the beauty of her naked body was enough to create a state of arousal in her partner and thus a follow-through performance.

Luckily, she was able to assure us that she was "on the pill" and thus a condom would not be necessary—which sounded good to us. She got undressed in the living room that first night, and I was able to fuck her while my friends observed—and pretended to take notes.

Then Shelly introduced us to her roommate, Crystal Miller, a beautiful and slender brunette. Crystal liked the idea—and the money—as well and agreed to return that Friday to fuck Jeff—not in those words of course—but again right in front of the rest of us.

New York City it seemed was full of college students who were looking for part-time jobs to pay the bills. There was no medical experiment naturally, and while these were girls who wouldn't think of taking a job as a stripper at some club, they were willing to participate in a "scientific experiment." For money.

Crystal arrived promptly at seven o'clock that Friday. But to my surprise, Shelly came along as well, and also to my surprise, both of them were wearing very nice-looking dresses, not the usual garb for college girls. Crystal wore a green velour dress with a brown bead necklace, and Shelly wore a blue denim dress with gold buttons down the front and a brown silk scarf around her neck. She looked quite lovely—as she had when I first fucked her the week before.

"Crystal asked if I would come too," Shelly explained, "Sort of like an escort. You don't have to pay me or anything."

"Fine," I said. "It's pleasure to see you again."

"And Crystal has a surprise for you," Shelly said with a smile. "Show them, Crystal."

"Okay." Crystal lifted the hem of her skirt to her waist, and wonder of wonders, there was something I had not seen in forty years: a garter belt and stockings.

"Holy shit..." Jeff muttered. He had already taken his Viagra pill, so it did not take much to arouse him. The other two looked on in amazement as well.

"She got it at Victoria's Secret," Shelly said with a laugh. "She thought you would like it."

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," Jeff said.

"Needless to say, I've never done anything like this before," Crystal said. "And I've never had sex in front of an audience." She turned to me. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, Jeff here is going to be the subject tonight," I said, "So I think the best thing you could do to get him aroused would be to undress—slowly."

"All right." She reached behind her and unzipped her dress to just below the waist. Then she pushed it off her shoulders, let it drop to the floor, and stepped out of it. She was clad in a white gauze bra and matching white gauze panties, both of which also looked like they had just been purchased at Victoria's Secret.

Shelly in the meantime looked around. "Where should I sit?" she asked. Most of the best seats were already taken by the "medical observers."

"You can sit on my lap if you want," I suggested.

"All right."

She came over, sat across my lap, put her arm around my neck, and kissed me on the cheek. I was surprised. "What as that for?" I asked.

"Just my way of saying hello."

"Well, it's a very nice way, and I'm very glad you came." I also was wondering if she was bucking for another $100 session—which would have been fine with me. "You aren't by any chance wearing a garter belt and stockings as well, are you?" I asked.

"No, sorry, but I am wearing brand new panties with my name on the side."

"Really?"

"Yes. Want to check the spelling?"

"Of course."

She began to unbutton the brass buttons at the bottom of her dress.

Crystal in the meantime took a deep breath, reached behind her, unhooked her bra, pushed it off her shoulders, and let it drop to the floor. Her breasts were larger than Shelly's, but I still liked Shelly's better. Then she hooked her thumbs in the sides of her panties and pushed them down. Unlike Shelly, she was completely shaved down there, which I guess was meant to be another unexpected treat for us old geezers not used to that kind of thing. It was. I don't think any of us had ever seen a shaved one before, although we knew from looking at Playboy magazine that shaved seemed to be the style now. I was not sure whether I liked that or Shelly's natural but trimmed bush the best. I think natural won out.

Shelly had unbuttoned her dress up to her waist, revealing the little white panties with the name "Shelly" on the side. She unfastened her belt and continued unbuttoning until she was able to push the dress to either side, revealing a nearly transparent bra.

"Spelled right?" she asked, looking at her panties.

"Yes, it is. Let's get something out of the way right away. Are you here for another hundred dollar session? Because if you are, that's all right with me."

She leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I'm here because I wanted to have sex with you. But this is freebie night. I don't want to be paid anything; I just want to have sex."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not kidding. Does this prove it?" She unfastened her bra and tossed it on the floor. Her breasts, as I have said before, were small but quite beautiful.

Now the "medical observers" didn't know where to look: at Crystal and Jeff or at Shelly and me, since there appeared to be something going on in both rings of this sexual circus. Crystal was just standing there naked looking at Jeff—who still was in his gray velour running suit.

"Are you going to get undressed, Jeff?" I asked.

"I think I want to keep my clothes on," he replied. Jeff was self-conscious about his belly. "Also, I would like to do it doggy style—if that's okay with you, miss." He looked up at Crystal, apparently forgetting her name.

"Sure," Crystal responded, "I like it that way."

"But I guess I would like a blowjob first—to get me aroused."

"All right." She got on her knees and moved over to him. Jeff unzipped the front of his pants and took it out. It was already half-erect.

Crystal wrapped her right hand around the shaft and took the head in her mouth.

"Oh Goddddd," Jeff moaned.

Shelly leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I love watching people have sex, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"It gets me hot. Does it get you aroused?"

"Yes."

"Then take it out and show me."

"Take your panties off and I will," I said.

"Gee, mister, you drive a hard bargain," she said mockingly, "But I will." She hooked her thumbs in the back her panties, lifted up a little, and pulled them down until they were draped around her ankles. Her little golden muff was as beautiful as before.

"I like that you don't shave," I said as I unzipped and took out my member,

"Good, and you should feel how wet it is inside."

Who could resist a suggestion like that? I slipped my middle finger in between the downy lips of her vagina. She was right: It was warm—and very wet.

"You must want to have sex," I said.

She leaned forward and whispered in my ear: "I already told you that. I want to get fucked, that's what I want. And so do you from the look of Mr. Johnson."

I looked down at my enlarged cock and silently agreed. "Then turn around a straddle me," I said.

"Wouldn't you like to have a blowjob first?" she asked.

"Of course."

She slipped off my lap and got down on her knees in front of me. She wrapped her hand around my cock and covered the end of it with her mouth. Then she began sucking—hard and fast, finally releasing her hand and going all the way down on it.

Now, none of the observers knew where to look: Two beautiful naked girls both performing blowjobs at the same time. The only question was: Who would "come" in first?

Jeff settled that question. "Ohhhh Goddddd!" he cried, filling Crystal's mouth with his semen.

But I decided to hold out so I could put it all inside Shelly's little body. In just a few minutes, it was apparent that I was as hard as I was going to get. "That's enough," I said. "Now get up and straddle me."

"Okay." She stood and did so. Gently I eased my engorged member into her tight little pussy. I certainly did not need any extra lubrication this time. She was hot and wet.

With Jeff, it was a different matter. He pulled a blue tube of KY jelly out of his jacket pocket, spread some on his palm, greased up his pole, and then lathered Crystal's vagina. Despite having come in her mouth, he still was able to get a respectable erection thanks to the Viagra. He pushed his cock in all the way and began pumping her.

So that's how it went. Jeff continued pumping Crystal until he finally came again and collapsed on top of her (not very comfortable for her), and Shelly continued going up and down until I finally came inside her. Then, also to my surprise, she leaned over, wrapped her arms around my neck, and gave me a big kiss. "Thanks," she said.

"I'm the one who should thank you." And I kissed her back. In some strange kind of a way, it was even more erotic than the sex. More personal, I guess.

And that's how it went for the rest of the year. Each of us taking turns, and each of us aroused by a long line of beautiful college girls ready and eager to participate in our "medical/psychological/physiological" experiment.

They say that every story should have a moral, so I guess the moral of this one is: If you're a man in your 60s, 70s or even 80s, you can go to the senior center every day and watch dumb soap operas, talk shows, or game shows on TV—or you can get some Viagra, and fuck a long line of beautiful college girls.

As a former educator, I have always believed—as I have indicated in these stories—in supporting the student body

—especially when it's going slowly up and down on your pogo stick.

The End