Easing Back Into Sex

Morgan Fletcher fled to the south of England to seek revival, staying with his maternal grandmother and husband.

He'd been squeezed dry by his demanding job as new business manager for an ailing firm manufacturing sanitary disposal units for workplace toilets while socially attempting to anally satisfy his new stepmother as well as performing like a stallion for his egocentric girlfriend who stuck to him like a leech.

Although now married, Dottie claimed she was being sexually neglected, with her husband recovering from a tsunami-type honeymoon of wall-to-wall sex and that the onslaught of post-honeymoon depression. He'd horrified her by declaring that having sex once or perhaps twice a week was more than enough for anyone.

Morgan had become so fatigued he felt as if his teeth were ready to fall out and although he was only twenty-eight he was walking not unlike a geriatric ex-horseman.

He received medical treatment for something diagnosed as gross penile over-use, resigned from his job and snuck away without saying goodbye to his dad and his over-sexed stepmother and the clinging girlfriend who refused to be dumped.

His grandparents Agnes and William met him at Haywards Heath in West Sussex and notified his father he was in their care. When they'd headed from the station to a nearby village Morgan began imagining feeling the therapeutic bliss of knowing he was in the middle of nowhere whilst still being in England.

Driving the 21-year old Land Rover not unlike a tank commander through the conquered countryside of submissive peasantry, Agnes asked, "This over-stress you mother has told me you suffer from, is it long-lasting?"

Neither she nor her grandson heard William, a retired veterinarian mutter the symptoms at a glance appeared to be sleep deprivation and over-stimulation of self-inflicted masturbation.

"No grandma. According to the psychologist, three weeks of rural tranquillity in health-promoting sunshine ought to recharge batteries, so to speak.

"What sunshine?" grumbled his grandfather.

"Is your mother taking good care of her health?" Agnes asked and that on-going level of conversation convinced Morgan he was being inculcated in the near moronic environment of folksy sub-existence that would allow his spent body to rejuvenate itself.

"You can't have your old room as we now have a maid who sleeps there."

"Thank Christ for that," her grandson murmured as the tank rumbled through the countryside with remarkable agility considering the incompetence of the driver and the vehicle's state of mechanical neglect.

"No you'll sleep above the stables that we have leased out," William said, adding with authority he'd liberally applied rodent poison and therefore his grandson should not eat off the floor.

"There's no heating apart from that emitted from the two horses that should warm your room above them by half of a degree," said his grandmother as if she possessed vision.

As a boy Morgan had suspected that his gran was a Sussex witch because her pointy, narrow and prominent jawline was very similar to those witches in his boyhood birthday and Christmas story books that had frightened him shitless.

They walked into the kitchen and Morgan saw a sight for sore eyes; god his eyes were sore.

A woman was bent over the coal range displaying the traditional sturdy arse of a Sussex woman and when she stood and turned carrying a tray of hot fresh scones he could see that her chest was the same size of her arse, also a standout feature of many Sussex females.

"Omigod this under-fed specimen is your grandson" she commented. "He looks as if he'd collapse if he so much as took two pulls of his dick. Will you have three hot buttered scones darling?"

Morgan collapsed on to a chair at the table, nodding to the motherly female who looked no older than perhaps twenty-two.

Her name was Emma and as she led Morgan to the loft above the two splendid looking horses, going up the ladder access ahead of him. He kept his eyes lowered, fearing that the sight of the white of her upper thighs could trigger him into some type of relapse.

"I've made this horrid room as comfortable as I could for you," she said. "Here allow me to undress you; you appear exhausted.

"No."

"Now listen here Morgan, you pleaded with me to buy coffee because you detest tea and I agreed. In return I expect you to cooperate with me."

She undressed him and held out his flaccid dick for closer inspection.

"This is the biggest one I've ever seen. You'll be interested to learn both horses are mares."

Morgan was horrified.

He knew that buggery and lesbian behaviour existed in Sussex although nothing like it was in previous centuries but had always assumed only riders and Canadian police mounted their horses and now Emma was implying there was a more intimate associated between man and horse.

"Oh no, sex was rearing its ugly head sooner than expected.

He collapsed on to the bed and Emma said she would fetch a bowl of soapy water to wash his face. She went off to get the water from the house rather than cold water from the horses' drinking trough.

Morgan awoke to find Emma sponging his face with one hand and her other hand clutched his reproductive gear.

"Excuse me to touching you intimately but you balls obviously required warming; they appeared cold and dead."

He went to protest but she reminded him she'd promised to buy coffee.

God she was a manipulative bitch.

Falling asleep Morgan was dimly aware of Emma bending over to suck his dick but smiled grimly, knowing it would be unable to rise to the occasion.

Not long after dawn he heard the horses talking, or it seemed like that. He was standing nude at the bench that really was only a plank, drinking cold water from a container that Emma had left for him when he saw a woman's head and then body come into view at the top of the access ladder.

"Oh hi," she smiled. "I'm Mrs Gibbs. "I knew that you were to arrive late yesterday. You have a big cock. Oh god what am I saying? I'm sorry for being so rude."

Morgan sighed thinking oh no, not another one-track-thinking woman.

"It's okay, I gathered you were just trying to sound friendly and as I'm not wearing clothes you couldn't have said you liked my shirt."

"Thanks for being understanding; I really embarrassed myself. Would you like coffee?"

"Oh god Mrs Gibbs, you wonderful angel."

"Steady on old chap," the 40-year old said sounding a little alarmed.

"Oh sorry; it's just that I've been almost seventeen hours without coffee."

"Oh you poor darling, I understand. I get like that if I go more than three nights without sex. Oh god what am I saying?"

"Um telling me you are a normal healthy woman?"

"Oh yes, how understanding. Please call me Irene. I was told your name is Morgan."

"Yes and Irene please call me that. Um coffee?"

"Yes I'll fetch it. Meanwhile please put on your underpants so that I can concentrate on conversation."

Morgan tucked his dick away and sighed, thinking his flight from the city to escape excessive sex seemed to be coming unstuck. His grandmother had said she could provide him with all 'the bedfellows' he required once he was 'back on line'. Her maid was anxious to nobble him and down below where he would sleep were two frisky mares and their oft-visiting 40-year old female rider who appeared she wasn't betting the husbandly attention she required.

Oh god.

* * *

For the first two days following Morgan's arrival on the farm that was leased out for grazing dairy cows, Emma had arrived mid-morning with a pail of soapy warm water and gave him a bed-bath, saying his grandmother ordered him to stay in bed for two days.

She soaped his dick and to Morgan's relief she didn't fist it.

But when she turned him over and massaged his buttocks and then stroked a finger down the crack she asked, "Do you feel any stirring?"

"Nope."

She pulled his feet apart and wormed a soapy finger into his anus and asked did he feel any stirring?"

"Nope."

"But I do."

He heard the sound of clothing being removed and then felt the mass of a warm tit behind his left knee and it appeared to reach almost up to his bum.

"What about now?"

"Nothing."

"The finger returned to his anus and burrowed deeper and then was joined by another finger. He relaxed and felt the fingers widen his arsehole.

"What about now?"

"Yes there's a slight stirring."

"Then that's enough for now. Gosh you have a lovely compact arse; I feel almost ready to cum just looking at it. As these sessions continue, with Mrs Metcalf (grandma) briefing me what to do, will you mind if I progresses to be licking your butt and even tonguing over your arsehole?"

"No providing this is necessary as part of my rejuvenation."

"Yeah it's definitely an official part of your therapy and I'll probably become more than rejuvenated as well. Has that Mrs Gibbs had her hands on you yet?"

"No and is that something coming?"

"I'd say probably. That woman will patiently work on your progressively until she finally lures you into banging her until she gushes That woman has a half-randy husband and a randy lover but still seems unsatisfied."

"Will you be jealous if I um... and Mrs Gibbs?"

"No providing I get first use of your morning erection when they return naturally."

"That's a deal."

"Right a cup of coffee coming up."

* * *

On the third morning Morgan went over to the farmhouse for breakfast and was greeted warmly.

Agnes kissed him and then slapped both sides of his face hard and crowed "That's brought even more colour back into your checks. You looked like someone straight off the undertaker's table when you arrived here."

William said Morgan was looking better and whispered "Lay off flaying your dick for as long as you can."

Agnes asked "Are you looking forward to the day you'll mate with that promiscuous Mrs Gibbs?"

"I haven't thought about it," Morgan lied.

"There's no need to lie to me Morgan," said his grandmother, proving she had the powers of a witch. "We'll go to the farmer's market this morning and it will be crowded, allowing you to sneakily rub up against all the breasts and pussy you wish."

"Why?"

"Because I believe such natural behaviour is part of your progress toward total rejuvenation."

"Oh okay then."

Emma asked, "May I have him rub against my tits and pussy Mrs Metcalf?"

"Of course but refrain from pushing him along; he needs to set the pace."

Eight mornings after his arrival Morgan awoke to find he was sporting a dawn erection.

Omigod!

He felt so light-headed about it he didn't take advantage of the situation. However at breakfast Morgan whispered to Emma that morning at dawn his erection had returned.

"Omigod," she yelled and pulling Morgan's chair from the table she turned it and dropped to her knees and in front of the astonished Metcalf's she pulled out his dick and began slobbering over it.

"Has his erection returned?" his grandma asked.

Because Emma had her mouth full Morgan had to answer for her.

"Yes at dawn this morning," Morgan said proudly.

"Oooh isn't that lovely, Agnes said to William. "It's a red letter day for this household."

"Eh?" William said, disgusted by the scene acting out in front of him. He appeared ready to vomit over his fried bread and greasy fried eggs.

Morgan lay back in his chair, wearing a fat smile and waiting to be stimulated to produce a gusher. Emma was tiring and grandma got down on to her creaky knees and took over and this change was unnoticed by Morgan.

When he felt his balls boil and knew a gusher was on the way he thought he'd not warn Emma to pull her mouth clear as she deserved a treat after caring for him each morning.

He opened his eyes to stare straight at his grandmother working her mouth and hand in great coordination like a pro.

It was too late to pull away to ejaculate over her head

He watched helplessly as Agnes half-drowned in a torrent of semen.

The thick cream surplus gushed down both sides of her mouth and Angles coughed and spluttered and then smiled triumphantly.

"William did you see me take the lot," she cried before spitting to clear her mouth.

That intimate moment to share was lost because her husband was outside spreading his breakfast across the lawn.

At 5:30 next morning Morgan felt sharp teeth around the helmet of his cock. What the fuck?"

"Is that you Irene?"

"Yes," she said from under the sheet. "My intensely anticipated moment has arrived. Emma blabbed to me your ability to produce erections had returned and she'd blabber about this to some of the local villages and so I left my marital bed an hour early to ensure I got to you first."

"Okay but don't leave me out of this Irene. Get your pussy over my mouth and we'll indulge in a juicy sixty-nine."

And so Morgan's return to good health continued and he was no longer embarrassed staying with his grandparents now that his Agnes had promised not to connect sexually with him again.

William had shaken Morgan's hand after Grandma Agnes made that commitment and William had whispered to Morgan, "Boy you did well as I believe every woman needs to take a full mouthful at least once in her life."

The End