tagMatureNonagenarian Ch. 03

Nonagenarian Ch. 03


**** Epilogue ****

Though I carefully slid my fingers out of her beautiful, intensely sensitive, engorged pussy, Ann gasped and lurched several times. Smirking stupidly, we all lay as we were, basking in our blissful high, as the train rocked us peacefully for many miles. We teased each other and told wild stories for the next 100+ naked miles. By the time we HAD to dress, clothes felt totally unnatural! I wished Ann and Art many happy, blissful, recurrences of our experience. Though I didn't expect to hear from them after our trip, we exchanged contact details and said goodbye several hours later.


After many months, Sue heard from Art. He lived just over two hours from us and wanted to thank us again for the life changing experience. Wanting to show us something, he insisted we visit, so we arranged a weekend stay with him. His health had declined visibly and he spent most of his days in bed. Ann was still one of his aides. Her peers wondered why she was so elated to spend her time with Art. After much teasing, she shared the details of our trip and aroused their curiosity.

Since our adventure, she'd continued to help Art with her special style of physical therapy. His drive and health determined how much and what kind of therapy he got, though he was getting one form or another every day. He looked forward to his daily finger exercises INSIDE his younger and younger aides. Yet he'd insist they provide twice daily circulation stimulation to at least one small part of his body. Once past the 'horror' of sex play with a wobbly man in his nineties, all the aides enjoyed their time with Art. His humor and zest inspired them; his skillful talents surprised them. Word spread, of course, and he quickly had a wait list for aides. Many would visit on their own time.

When the demands became too taxing, he decided to limit visits from friends of aides to just one a day. Ahhh, the sufferings of abundance! What a curse. His female visitors had to pay a price to be with his highness. They were required to strip for him and do their best to make little Art salute. In return they got his boney, disease free, vibrating fingers in their pussies and asses. They were delighted to feel his hard, warm, shaky gums on firm nips and clits. Explosive orgasms frequently surprised them when his finger vibes woo'd their G spots.

His relationship with Ann was forever changed. Before our encounter, it was a nearly dispassionate, bored aide and her burden patient. It became a caring, playful, even loving one filled with oral and digital sex. Ann told us she was inspired to demand more in her normal sex life with her squeeze and to be more adventurous. As a result, they were much more fulfilled. Art's well-worked dick lost some wrinkles and was moderately hard without drugs. Ann had even coaxed true ejaculations from his happy cock. Often, Art had two or three aides helping him because they were fascinated with watching such an old man cum. They felt his release was a thrilling personal victory and a quirky shattering of taboos. He insisted, of course, that they all let him handle and taste them in the process.

Art hadn't told us his NINETY-NINTH birthday was in the week before we call on him the first time. While visiting with him, Art asked to taste and toy with Sue's tiny tits again. She agreed, if HE would undress her. He did, she did. She stripped him and stroked his small dick to a surprising hardness. "You're much bigger and harder than you were on the train! I know Ann has been sucking your dick, but have you fucked her with this trooper?"

"Dare wuz a joke that useta haunt me - bout a ninedy-yea old geeza who wuz charged wid rape. But it didn't stand up in court. For too many yeaz, I wuz afraid dat wuz me. Hell, I'm not whut I uzed to be, but I'm so much moah dan I evah egspectd to be agin. Didn't sum outfit say 'be awl you kin be'? Dat's whea I am now and I gotta say I'm trilled.' The tear in his eye said a greater THANKS than words alone could ever say.

"Ann and da other aides think it be fun jerking an old man, sukin me off and even fingerin my ass. I knows they playin, but so am I! Dey seemz to like me likin their pussis too. But they frade to mount my dick. Maybe they worried bout the STD I ain't got, or they frade I'm gonna split them in two with this biggg fugin monsta! HA! Moh liklee, they be worrin bout gettin pergnament with my hundred yea spermz! I anin't got no swimmers. They be tired too. Just maybe they fraid fugin meez gonna kill me. Cum then croak? But I can't convink em dat I'm totly safe. No matta! This be da best sex I had in ova tirty years, so I'm smilin evry day!"

"That's all true. I even had his sperm tested, under another name, and know he can't impregnate anyone. But actual intercourse doesn't seem ethical. I don't mind swallowing his cum, and I do let him lick my pussy. He loves that." Sounds like some serious guilty rationalizing.

Art sat on his bed, dialing Sue's nipples and sucking her little tits. She had her feet spread wide on the floor so her tits lined up with his mouth. He reached past her navel, pet her pubes, circled her clit and split her gash with two shaky fingers. Sue sighed and threw her head back. Her little moan made me and Ann respond. Still comfortable with us, she shed her clothes and sauntered to me. As Ann undressed me, we watched Art finger fuck my young wife. He gently stoked Sue's pliant ass cheeks.

Ann sat on my naked lap, "In the last year, I only had sex of any kind with my boyfriend...until our train trip. But I've only fucked one man in that time, until tonight. I want to fuck you desperately. Ever since you knocked me out on the train, I've dreamed about fucking you. Please let me." Hmm, no ethical concerns here!

"Wow! No pressure, huh? You are an incredibly sexy woman. Beautiful in face, body and soul. You know Art appreciates your attention and I feel grateful for it to, for him. Resisting you can be very hard. Your boyfriend better appreciate these huge, perfect tits; this plush, curvy ass; and this incredible pussy. Sue was also very turned on by its sculpted beauty. I have to warn you, I want it all... I want to feast on your taut, tasty tits and succulent pussy with my eyes, nose, fingers and tongue. After I make you cum twice, I want to fuck you until you pass out. Are you OK with that?"

In answer, she grinned broadly and flushed brightly. With her back to my chest so we could watch my wife with Art, I caressed Ann's heavy tits. She wiggled against my stiffened cock and let it stand between her legs, then pressed it against her swelling lips. The surge of warmth where my hot dick and her pouty pussy merged drew simultaneous moans from both of us.

Sue and Art snapped their heads at our unified, lustful moan. His shaky fingers were deep inside Sue, exploring. Her sudden lurches told us when Art found her G-spot. She gasped and quickly evaluated Art's impressive little hardon. She'd had smaller cocks in her and now wanted to feel his living vibrator in her cunt. Having to chose between exhausting him by being under him, or possibly harming his brittle body by climbing on top, she decided to get on her knees on the bed with her face on the sheets.

Offering him her steaming, fragrant cunt doggie style drew a demented GRUNT from Art. He draped his boney body over her back, then spread open her cheeks. He too found her butthole wildly lusty. He rubbed its velvety puckers before circling a moistened finger around it and sliding past her relaxed muscles. Once deep inside her ass, she felt his vibrations shaking her G spot from the other side of her barrier. He moved his stiff little dick against her glistening lips and split open her beautiful and protruding inner lips.

Once his dick head felt the searing heat of my wife's wetness, he groaned loudly and nearly collapsed. Bracing himself by hooking his finger inside Sue's ass, he jerked his other hand from her hip to the bed post to support himself. He nevertheless arched his hips to thrust deeper into Sue's cock magnet. Instantly, all FOUR stiff inches vanished inside her slippery snatch. With her ass steeply in the air, the angle was right for even a small dick to tease her clit and slide into her G. Sue shook, eeeeeked and shuttered in orgasmic surprise. Art grimaced, then grunted hard three times trying to sling his spunk into Sue's hollowed out cunt. He fell onto his side on the bed with a broad shit-eating grin of satisfaction.

Sue and I visited Art several times so she could experience his unique talents. I taped them twice. She couldn't describe exactly why his gums and fingers felt so much better than a vibrator on the same spots. We can imagine empathically some of the reasons. Maybe it was the extra taboo of his age or anxiety that she could kill him with her pussy?

By our third visit, Art's confidence was at an all time high. I watched and listened to Sue each time she built to a howling, keening, gushing orgasm that flooded Art's grateful, grinning face. Once, still awed, I didn't notice I'd stopped jerking off just before my climax. Another aide, mostly dressed, was staring at us and grinning. Her legs were sprawled out in front of me, fingers still pistoning her swollen, dripping cunt. When Sue and Art saw me frozen, yet still choking my purple-headed chicken, she whispered to Art. He shook his head a firm NO. "Have you ever?" she asked. Again a firm NO. "So why not now?" No response.... a short delay later he shrugged.... then conceded. To what?

They turned silently to me. Still in perfect synch, their eyes dropped slowly to my hand that was still strangling my cock, then back up to my eyes. "Oh no! Nope! I can see what you're thinking. NO!" The aide let all her disheveled clothes fall off as she approached me. Why was she grinning? She and Sue reached me at the same moment. They silently pulled me up, peeled my shirt off and let my pants fall away. My rigid rod naturally sprang out and lead my way.

What were they up to? Sue ran her fingers over my cheeks, into my crack and teasingly against my rear hole. Beth slid her free hand up my thighs, feathered my balls then LOCKED onto my still strained dick. She squeezed and pulled its hardness to Sue's giddy delight. Did they want our threesome for Art's cardio program? With all his experience, a minor little threesome couldn't be so special. Beth pulled my turgid cock toward the bed and I decide to follow it. With Sue's fingers inside my ass, I had no clear thoughts. Four of us were now on the bed naked. The two women flanked me, moved me to my knees and pointed my dick at Art. "Oh no, uh uh... what are you asking Art to do?"

"Have you ever jerked off another man, shakey or not?" Art's sheepish shrug told me this wasn't his idea. I had my kinky wife to thank for this. Beth pulled me forward and relinquished my rigid dick to Art. He'd squeezed it before, on the train, so his vacillating grip was vaguely familiar to me. It was brief then, but this time I knew it wouldn't be. I rationalized that a hand was still a hand - male or female. But then so was a mouth and an asshole. I wasn't sure I wanted to take ANY of those steps down that path. The first step was already beyond my choice. Art had a firm grip on my cock with ninety-nine year old bones and muscles. It had started to deflate, but his shakes sent some twists and uneven jerks I would never have done on my own.

I was already near my climax, so Art's few shaky jerks quickly put me over the top despite my misgivings. Then he surprised us all. He let my first gush fly onto his hands, chest and legs. Overcoming obvious hesitation, he leaned onto me and caught my second spurt in his mouth! "ART! What...." Before I could finish, he sucked my still spurting dick deeper into his mouth. His vibrating jaw made me spastic and sent two more spurts down his throat before I could regain control. "Art! Are you OK?"

"Sure. That's sumthin I neva done in ninety-nine years! I wuz always afraid to try and afraid what uddaz wood say. Well, fug um! I let my curiohsiti win and I'm glad I did. It wernt so bad neider. Not much left now I haven't done!" I didn't know what to say. So I shut up and decided to sleep on my thoughts.


We heard from Art every month until his death at 101.... He stayed sexually active, to varying degrees, until he died. We learned that HE decided to further limit visits from friends of aides to one every other day... Too many wanted to be part of the miracle man's RIPLEY records.

He'd often said, in his own special way, that we inspired him to a degree of bliss he had no expectation of ever achieving again. In truth, HE inspired US and everyone who's heard this story. If there's a moral here, maybe it's this:

Listen to, learn from and respect our elders and their wisdom.

It's a lesson I'd heard since I was a child. As most did, I didn't pay much attention. When I met Art, it became a lesson I never again forgot. Forty happy years after that impromptu train adventure, and many other fun trips I preserved in my secret diary, I lost Sue to disease. Despite my still high sex drive, I was so heartbroken I couldn't consider any form of dating. For nine long years, I was a depressed recluse. Then it was my turn to depend on aides for my daily activities. My first three were prudish women with no sense of humor. They made each day a dull eternity. The fourth, MaryAnn, reminded me of Ann. We got on famously and my spirits rose. After some racy teasing, I fondly told her about our adventures with Art way back in August of 2007. Was it a coincidence that she was born that same month?

Maybe it was her female intuition, but after I shared the intimate details of that long ago train adventure, she insisted I call her ANN. She pointed out that she had been handling my dick since our day one during sponge and later full baths. If I hadn't told her Art's story, she would have never mentioned the improvement in my circulation evidenced by the mild dick throbbing she noticed. Encouraged by my experience, she massaged my dick to a reasonable firmness and kept massaging until I had my first ejaculation in several years.

MY Ann wasn't willing to go as far as Art's Ann did, well... not for two months. I finally persuaded her to bathe with me and let me enjoy her body. Though my fingers didn't shake much, they stayed hard much longer than my dick could and I used them to happily reward her kindness with frequent orgasms. At this old age, I went to two doctors to lower my sex drive... since it was mostly in my head. MaryAnn said it was still too high! Ouch! Was that an insult?

Our evolving relationship was modeled on Art's. She and her most trusted coworkers provided frequent oral and manual orgasms with many semi-successful, though low impact, cock in pussy encounters. We rode the trains often, looking for the new generation of Sue and me. We never found 'me' there.

With no commitments and occasional forays into public sex, my final years have been much more satisfying than I had any right to expect. I asked Ann and her friends how I could express my gratitude since I had nothing left to will to them. Ann said I should tell Art's story to all who might listen and learn. Using WordPerfect version 46 with accurate thought to text feature, I tackled the challenge.

I leave this story to my sons and their children and to all who take the time to learn the morals it holds. My gift of gratitude will not be published until after my death. It's time. 65 years after meeting Art, I'm now on my deathbed and wish you the happiness I found in my last years. Just in case I was too subtle, and because the other significant moral in our stories is much too important to leave to chance, forgive me for stating it plainly:

There's hope for new beginnings, even for ordinary people like us. Thanks Art.

=========================== =============================

(~ ~)
> * < ...Please vote and leave constructive comments. Thanks....


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