Transformation by Trials - Ch. 02

It did tickle my interest but one part of me was telling me that I did not want to hear the gory details.

"She asked me to bring my partner for a joint session and since I had none I lied that she, my fictitious girlfriend, refused to come. She did the usual stuff advising me to discuss all what I wanted to do with my partner and what she liked to do with me. She suggested porn and role playing and what not. The problem is that I had no partner! So, I went to a massage parlour with happy ending services. Even though I had a ninety-minute nude session with a gorgeous middle eastern girl, nothing happened. She was sympathetic and kind and sent me off with a nice brotherly kiss. The subsequent visits to my sexologist became corny. She discussed explicit stuff like what techniques and positions we should do and what kind of foreplay is best. I really felt she was hitting on me and she was a nice-looking middle-aged woman. I was dead wrong! As there were some minimal stirrings in my vitals, I sort of obliquely suggested that she could make it happen for me and then she exploded! She actually dismissed me as a patient for misconduct!"

I hummed indicating my grasp of the situation though I couldn't still understand where I came in. The dinner arrived and he took a break. He continued after looking at me to discover any discernable reaction in me. He put his hand on mine on the table and ever so softly ran a delicate thumb on the back on my palm. It was delightfully reminiscent and stimulating.

"I even thought of contacting my ex, Sandra, but I realized she was too domineering and forceful to allow any soft stimulation. Yes, she had a more than healthy libido but I thought she executed that in a decidedly selfish and not mutually participatory way. That's where you come in!"

"Oh, wow!" I was a bit surprised that he was suggesting that I could cure him of his malady! Both my men asking for sex within a month! Good lord! I had to ask him about something else. "You know, Chuck you wrote your third episode (Tradition and Triumph Once More) about us and that fictitious visit to India, why did you place that in the future; way into the future! Also, there were two women you mentioned, were they for real?"

"I have no reason for going into the future. Eleven years, right? Maybe I thought it was more realistic as I was making things up. The two women, they were half truths. No real attachment or affection at all." He brushed that aside with a wave in the air. "Look at you. You are so beautiful and agelessly sexy! Then you are deliciously shy and excitingly coy. But you are very giving and when you get intimate you transform to being stunningly passionate. I love that. You have a beautiful body and I simply love ogling every inch of it especially..."

"Enough. I know what's coming! Please don't embarrass me." I held his hand as his thumb was doing too much. I felt warmth down there which meant only one thing. "Let's eat before the dinner gets cold."

So, we did, very slowly relishing each spoonful as if it meant to be related to and enriching of our surprise reunion. There was an unseen urgency to get back to a private space for me. Unsure and a bit anxious, I wondered if his feelings matched mine. If it did he didn't show it. I convinced myself that my desire to be loved was normal and not some anomalous or even despicable amorousness of middle-aged deprivation. However, mine was a little more than wanting love; I longed for physical intimacy.

When we walked very slowly back to the elevator and to our room. He muttered: "You arrived here at the right time. When you messaged me, I was shocked; it was like a god send." He squeezed my hand. "You are the only one that can make me a man again!" As we entered the room he asked in a tense but husky voice. "Were you with anyone after you left the US? I mean any relationships?"

"Nothing at all. You were the last." I whispered back proudly, with my hands on his shoulders. Ashok's visit nudged me, uncomfortably

"It is tough to believe how the men in India let you be." Again, that compliment that was making me unnecessarily proud.

"Well, there were men, lots of them, that tried to get close to me. You know men. They think a single woman is an easy prey. I wasn't sure I wanted a relationship and I did not miss that at all. By the way, you also wrote about me having sex with some random guy. (In his third piece an imaginary visit to India) Why did you put that in? Did that turn you on?" I was being truthful and touching on intimate stuff and I could imagine why my juices were flowing copiously now. Is that naughty forties thing for real?

"Those man fantasies are a turn on. Ironically men think of their women being taken by someone else is very arousing." He thought about what he was saying. "I think you can do it for me. I know. You are the only one!"

Somehow, I began feeling that I should help this man who helped me when I was in dire straights a few years ago. With a shy and fabricated reluctant look, I said: "I will try!" I thought back a bit. "The fictitious visit to India and meeting me and all that stuff you wrote in your third episode, was that to... kind of stimulate your self?

"Could be. It wasn't a conscious effort, though." He gestured towards the little package he had brought for me. "Now you want to open your gift?"

Oh, yes. I had forgotten about it. It was a small little box and when I opened it I realized it was something quite intimate. Inside was a turquoise sheer shorty night gown and an equally revealing thong panties that was merely thin strings attached to a triangle of near transparent fabric. I ran my fingers under them and I could even see the lines on my palm through the material. "Wow!" was the only exclamation that escaped my lips.

"Please wear them for me. Please?"

Not saying a word but with a smile of surrender on my uncomfortable face I walked into the bathroom to change. I closed but did not lock the door. I took that risk knowingly and with my abstract sign of consent. I looked at the fabric again as if it would somehow become less revealing. I took off all my clothes and looked down at my thighs and legs critically and had no complaint. I looked at the mirror over the twin washbasins. I shook my hair into some form of orderly randomness, wiped my eyes and wet my lips. My 36B sized boobs had a slight inevitable sag but not much. My nipples, that were only a slightly darker brown than the rest of me, looked perky and young. I could not see the rest of me, so I climbed in the bathtub, that was opposite to see the full length. I turned around to see my butt and as has been commented by many, recently, in my middle age, it had become mysteriously more voluminous. My midline crevice was deep and appealing and the twin sexy folds under the curvaceous globes were inviting. It looked good and I surprised myself with this extreme vanity of self admiration as I twisted with effort to scan myself well. I turned around to see my front. My abdomen had the telltale effects of a twin pregnancies and a slight suprapubic bulge but otherwise relatively flab free. My thatch of pubic hair in a near perfect inverted triangle was the object of Chuck's admiration. I read about it recently. It gave me much surreptitious thrill to be pleasing his visual preferences. I hoisted one foot on the edge of the tib to view my crotch to confirm the graphic description that Chuck had written about. I smiled and blushed. It was probably accurate.

I stepped gingerly out and put on the sexiest clothes I have ever worn. After I had on the tiniest gown that went down only to a couple inches below my crotch, I stepped into those flimsy panties and even with the two layers my bush was visible. Why, even my vulvar lips were seen! The thong that went through my butt crack was decidedly uncomfortable and I had often wondered how women felt easy with that thing rubbing the most sensitive parts of their bodies. Anyway, I had decided to please this sweet man, whom I left to steady my life and wellbeing. I wondered long looking at my image and wondered if I could ever walk into the bedroom and not feel like an absolute slut wearing what I did.

I was interrupted by a knock. "Are you OK?" Chuck inquired.

"Yes, I am fine. I am coming. It's... it's... OK. Just a minute." I struggled to gather myself. Then in a quick reflex reaction I wrapped the large bath towel over my nightie. It was broad enough to reach half way down my thigh and only the thin string straps on my shoulders showed above. I adjusted the towel to reveal a bit of my cleavage as a kind compensation for my inappropriate modesty and picked up all my courage to walk out.

What I saw in the room, shocked me!

I saw Chuck seated in the armchair at the far end of the room and when he heard me coming in he stood up and turned. He was completely naked!

I have been intimate with Chuck so many times but not very recently. So, there was some unfamiliarity ushered in by time. His frame was quite the same. He kept himself in good shape and his unexposed portions of his torso were a healthy pink. He was beaming as he walked towards me. "What? You didn't like... oh, I see you have the towel over it. Shy huh?"

"Yes, you know me, Chuck." I mumbled as I walked towards him. I couldn't help notice his large penis hanging harmlessly limp. We went into each other's arms and hugged tight. I felt his hands trying to undo my towel. I resisted.

"Slowly please." He seemed to agree.

"I think the slow turn on should work best."

While still hugging I ran my hands over his back and chest a few times we stood in a timeless hug. I knew I had to make it happen for him and I gently went to his front, to his abdomen and then his butt and slowly moved to his front again and after finger tipping his groin area I finally held his organ.

Almost a violent jerk was his response. I looked at him. His eyes were closed as he let off a slow and long hiss of pleasure. He felt a bit turgid; not entirely soft. He was large so I couldn't tell.

"Are you getting there?" I asked as I softly massaged him.

"No, just feeling good. It will happen." He obviously wanted me to continue. I brought both my hands down and while I stroked him with my right I gently felt his sac and the balls within. I moved a trifle back and looked down and he looked with me. He looked beautiful to me and I was turned on looking at this package of manhood that had so much power and gave me immense sexual pleasure at a time of fear, sadness and lack of security had turned my life upside down. Through that enjoyment I also derived my safeness and hope. I wanted to make this man happy and I promised myself to put my whole heart and soul into it.

"What do you want me to do? I'll do anything. Tell me!" I swooned and hugged him again while I worked on him down there. I did not perceive any difference in hardness. "You want to see me?" I know I had asked him before and he had liked it so much. There was that glint in his eye again.

"Show me slowly; very slowly!" He whispered.

I stepped back and turned away from him and then remembering the order in which these porn stars expose themselves, I turned back to face him and lowered my towel below my breasts with only the thin material covering me. I looked down and saw him look at my proud mounds too. My nipples were erect. He started stroking himself slowly but there was determination in his face.

"I tell you, you are the most beautiful."

The Only Trick

Now I turned around and took the towel away completely. I knew my butt globes were on view through the nightie. I gave it some time. I turned very slowly till I was fully facing him. I saw is eyes dip down to my crotch area. There was deep sigh and his stroking became more vigorous. He looked limp still and I offered to help him. He accepted a few more strokes from me but alas, there was no significant reaction. I was disappointed but I carried on.

"You know your bush is the best. All these women are shaved. You are incredibly beautiful down there!"

"How so? I mean who are these women?" Curiosity got the better of me.

"All the porn stars in clips and my masseuse. And er... I went to a hooker as well. Sorry, didn't tell you. She was shaved too! Even Sandra, my ex wife was clipped very short."

"Oh! Maybe I am a bit out of fashion. But I'll tell you what. The future is good. I think displaying pubic hair will be in vogue soon. I mean, above the bikini band on the beach. Already the cleavage is trendy. Butts are pretty regular in thongs. So..."

"Which one are you taking off first? The top or bottom?"

"Does it matter? You can see everything now, yeah?"

"No, the thin titillating fabric is too thrilling." He was stroking himself half heartedly. I held him and felt his hot flesh. I recalled the deep pink colour of his organ its softness and smoothness were ironic compared to the power and strength it generates when it is hard. I wanted that again and wished it would somehow happen. I longed to see those fierce bluish-purple veins that stand out in random patterns giving his manhood so much character of power. "Take off your panties, please."

I milked him with tender care pulling his foreskin right back and drawing out to its entire length. Then I removed my panties. "Look! How do I look?" I could not hide the pride in my voice.

"Wonderful! Heavenly!" He took a few deep breaths and stroked himself with more focus. Obviously, there was no change in his hardness. "Now, slowly take the rest off." I realized he had not touched my nakedness yet.

I kept my eyes on his face as I lifted the garment over my head and stood as naked as he in front of him.

A flash of shyness mysteriously gripped me and to overcome that silly sensation I hugged him pasting my body against his. I thought that might help him as well. I felt his familiar muscular back and ran my palm softly over his body. He did the same to me. I somehow felt a sense of serenity come over me; whether it was nostalgia or a fresh sense of protective company after a life of a singleton. At the back of my brain I new this was temporary. "Touch my breasts," I whisper mumbled hardly realizing this was an aroused me, "you like them, don't you?"

"Ahah!" His large hands that were surprisingly softer, moved in front to feel my boobs one by one. He thumbed my nipples ever so gently and they sprang to attention. I loved it. I reached down to feel his penis. Did I feel a difference? Was it slightly bigger now? I wanted it to be but it was not fully hard yet. I made love to it with my hands; very gently and ran a nimble finger over his beautiful sac hanging behind. I even went further to his butt crack to touch and feel his most sensitive spots to turn him on. Coming back, I searched for a reaction but there was none. Am I not good enough for him any more?

"You always liked my bush. You just said so. Please touch me there. Explore me!"

"I want to see you, darling." He sat on the bed. I remembered scenes in the past when roles were reversed. I moved up to him and even parted my thighs a bit. I had to subdue this awkward reluctance due to a vestige of my bashfulness that showed itself now and then.

He looked at my core for almost a minute that felt like an hour. I was pouring out and hoped it wouldn't show. I waited for him to touch me and he did; very gently with an index finger turned up. He ran up my slit and touched my clit.

"You are very sweet and virginal," he said without looking up, "this is such a sweet pussy!" I looked down to see what he was doing. It was very stimulating to observe his hands working on me and I hope it was for him too. He touched my lips with two fingers and separated them to look deeper. "Can I put my finger in?" He asked very respectfully.

"Please do." This was just what Ashok did too! Some weird telepathy!

He gently inserted one and then the second very slowly. My ample lubrication was adequate to facilitate a smooth entry. I was on cloud nine. He made a few strokes in and out that made that slurpy sound. I looked down at his penis and he was still soft. I had a nervous twitch. Was I not good for him? His face was so close to my crotch and suddenly his mouth was on me. He kissed my lower lips and sent his tongue on an exploratory trip on to all folds and into each crevice. He breathed deep as if to savour the olfactory flavours and then pushed his tongue in so much it actually entered my vagina giving me the shivers. He licked and flicked, sucked and kissed and got me into a quivering, shaking, moaning mess.

"Oh Chuck! How happy you make me. Are you OK?" I glanced to see he was not there yet. I bent down to play with him determined to make it happen. He thrust his hips forward, I thought hinting at a blow job. It was not a yucky sensation but I had those disinclinations to get that intimate in these situations. I said nothing but ignored his advances. I tried to make him happy with my fingers. He actually lay back and shut his eyes and moaned with each breath with his mouth open. It certainly looked like he was enjoying it but there was no reciprocation from his manhood.

What more could I do? I thought quickly as I continued to give him a steady, gentle hand job with plenty of saliva rubbed on.

"Is there a dirty movie we can see together? That might help." I offered. May be seeing other women that are better endowed in different ways may get it up for him. I was really feeling sorry for him; and for me!

"I'll browse around to see." Sure enough all hotels have that adults' selection of movies. "What type do you like?"

"I am OK with whatever you like. It's for you." It was a while since Ashok and I saw porn at home as a form of pre-foreplay stimulation. I wasn't even sure what was available nowadays.

"Romantic? Threesomes? Indian? Kinky? I don't know? I like it if it is thrilling for you too. I will get turned on by seeing you getting turned on"

"I'll go with romantic." I wanted to make it easier for us and quicker to decide.

Lying naked in bed in each other's arms we saw a romantic porn movie. Obviously, there was no real story but simply an excuse for the couples to indulge in steamy sex. This was about a rich Japanese entrepreneur, supposedly single seducing a young clerk from her office. She picks him up at the bus stand and introduced him to her body in her luxurious home. It was not strictly romantic but the way she manipulates his young and raw instinctive desires to satisfy herself was watchable in a carnal way. She was pretty and well endowed and the boy was young and muscular. She had to teach him how to eat her and she heightened his arousal when she sucked him and he almost ejaculated in her mouth. Then they did it missionary style and as is the case in most of these clips he pulls out to pour out his semen onto her hairy crotch.

I was still caressing Chuck's chest and tummy and occasionally flirting down to his groin and his yet to be woken up organ. "Do you like her?" I asked as if I was required to. "She is hairy."

"Yeah." He conceded. "But you are better. There is a tuft at the top which is too bushy." He touched me to show where my hairline was, as it was a dead horizontal line.

"Oh, I trimmed the top." I revealed a secret. "It was showing up over my panty line. But sorry, it was me that started it but we should not be looking at genitals alone, no?"

"Yeah, true. You are way prettier. Your boobs are bigger too but hers have a better lift. She must be much younger. Your butt is a clear winner. These Asians are small down there."

"We are also Asians. It's funny you folks call only far eastern people Asians. Anyway, thanks for your compliments."

Meanwhile the movie continued with the heroine meeting an African middle-aged man at a conference. That was poorly dramatized as some kind of make-a-deal meeting and it was obvious that sex was in the air. She invited him to her room and business was forgotten as they went into all the preliminaries with passionate kissing and petting with their hands all over each other before their clothes came off. She was naked first and sure as hell the big man devoured her breasts and finally her crotch. These were long sessions with the camera zoomed in displaying all angles with the appropriate titillating sounds of enjoyment.