Oh, Fiddle Sticks

When frustrated my mother's favorite refrain was "Oh Fiddle Sticks."

Now when I jack off and don't achieve an orgasm, I say, "Oh Fiddle Sticks."

And lately, all I do is masturbate because scoring pussy has become rare and infrequent.

When I was much younger, scoring pussy seemed easy. But not anymore. When I was hard up back then, I could always bag the widow Johnson, who lived in the flat above ours. The widow was a really lousy cocksucker, but a decent lay.

I was 18 the first time I fucked her and the old broad was more than appreciative. She loved it. I gave her the first fuck she had in years.

My mother always looked the other way when she knew I was fucking the widow. She viewed it as I was performing a service.

The widow fit the definition of the perfect fuck. Can't swell, won't tell, and is grateful as hell.

The only bad part was kissing her. I would kiss her to get her to remove her panties and then kiss her to put them back on again after I filled her old cunt with my spunk.

I married my high school sweetheart at age 20 and that lasted 18 months. She was an even worse cocksucker that the widow and not nearly as good of a fuck.

I ended working in a factory on second shift where the women outnumbered the men two to one. Scoring pussy was easy so who needed a wife that was a lousy lay.

At age 21 I bagged a 56-year-old lady named Gay Clifton. When I fucked her, she said, "Damn boy you do get after it don't you." I fucked fast and furious like a male dog doing his bitch in heat.

The years past and I lost count of the number of women I fucked at around 40 or so.

Luckily, I had a cock that was above average in size and stayed perpetually hard.

Around age 50, getting it up sometimes was no longer always easy. What I didn't know was I was in the very early stages of ED. We didn't understand much about that back then.

What I also didn't know was that my daily BP meds played a big part in my oncoming ED issues.

Most men suffer with some degree of ED as they age, but BP meds exacerbates the problem.

But with a lot of hand action my cock would rise to the challenge and off we would go. Pun intended.

When scoring pussy was on the wane it was replaced with frequent masturbation. Fucking the old hand as they say.

One evening I was standing at a urinal, at my favorite watering hole, shaking out the last drops of urine from my cock when a neatly dressed older man sidled up next to me. His eyes fixated on my limp cock and he said, "I bet that is a nice one when hard," My limp cock got immediately hard like days of yore.

had never given much thought of being sucked off by a man, but with pussy being scarce, the thought did run through my mind.

When I reached full hardness, he said, "Ah, just as I thought."

"Would you mind if I touched it?" He asked.

Without waiting for an answer, his hand wrapped around my cock causing it to involuntarily jerk.

He dropped to his knees and engulfed my cock. For the first time in my entire life, I was being sucked off by a man.

No woman ever did as good. Proves men are better cocksuckers, I thought.

The hot wet mouth on my cock was bringing back a youthful experience, premature ejaculation. Something I had not experienced in many years, but I quickly popped my load in his mouth causing him to sigh. He greedily swallowed it all down. As my cock eased out of his mouth, he licked his lips and smiled. I had just been sucked off by a pro. We did not exchange any more words, none were necessary.

This was a one-off experience and never happened again. But I thought damn every man should experience at least one awesome blow job in his lifetime.

I was so hard up to score some pussy I considered using a prostitute, but paying for pussy with cash ran against my grain. Yet I yearned for some pussy.

Then by happenstance I ran into an old classmate from high school. Over lunch, we reminisced about the old days. She informed me she was a widow and inquired about Beatrice my wife. I explained that my marriage had not worked out and that I had been divorced for many years. She shared her empathy and explained she understood loneliness. Damn, she wants fucked, I thought. My sometimes, hard cock was hard. I needed to fuck her and I think she sensed it.

Before I could thank my lucky stars, she told me it was her time of the month and she would not be able to make love. Make love hell, I thought, I want to fuck. My aching cock began to reside.

Later that night my attempts to masturbate proved fruitless, as I could not maintain a hard on. "Oh, Fiddle Sticks."

Two days later we met for lunch again and she told me she was ready when I was. She also asked me to be patient as she had not made love in years. I hustled her back to my apartment.

I was so desperate to fuck her, I dispensed with any preliminaries and disrobed her and ripped off my clothes. Much to my chagrin my cock would not rise to the occasion.

Sensing my dilemma, she said, "Perhaps if I suck your cock some that will help. It often worked with my late husband."

When she engulfed my soft cock, I realized I was being sucked by an expert. My cock began growing in her mouth. She was using tricks that I was unfamiliar with. Damn she was good.

"Holy crap where did you learn to suck like that?" I asked.

"My late husband taught me. He was bisexual and was a cocksucker himself," she responded.

My hard cock was throbbing in her mouth, and as much as I would have liked to shoot in her mouth, I needed her pussy.

When my cock entered her wet pussy, it was like shoving your cock in an oven. I had never experienced such a hot cunt.

We fucked like rabbits until I could hold off no more and I unleashed my load in her hot pussy. She screamed as her orgasm overtook her.

I didn't even need to say, "Oh, Fiddle Sticks."