What's in a Dry Old Fuck? Ch. 05

Following the progress of our ageing skirt chaser. Best to read preceding chapters to learn more about the disgraceful character described.

Just to remind you, I published this story a few years ago under another ID; I have since done some re-editing in in the hope of improving it.

Enjoy...comment...vote! Two more chapters to come.

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WHAT'S IN A DRY OLD FUCK?

Chapter Five: Helen...some sort of renaissance?

Those four dry, sexless weeks before I was due to see the surgeon again threatened to drag by interminably, but I tried hard to remain optimistic. I had to; I was not ready to give up my previously indestructible sexuality just yet.

Then the minor miracle occurred. On morning twenty two (I was counting), I woke up with a solid hardon. And it wasn't because I wanted to piss.

In the early morning, out of habit, and without premeditation, I had rolled over onto my side towards Helen's back and slipped my free hand under the sheets, over and onto her belly, then up, to grasp a generous, fifty year old breast in my palm. The miracle happened as I stroked her warm, firm flesh. I pinched her nipple lightly, and once I got the rubbery swelling reaction, dipped my hand down into her pubes to tickle her clitoris, as I had done many times before in my early morning bleariness and tumescence, to remind her that, though no longer a young stud, this was still a hot blooded male beside her, with desires and needs.

Not that Helen always took a lot of notice, but just sometimes, on odd weekends or the thirty fifth of the month, I got really lucky.

To my surprise and, need I say, joy, the old battleship came alive and filled up with genuine sanguine liquid. Within seconds, I was smiling. But now, the doubts crept in: should I take full advantage of my condition? The four sacred weeks were still running. There was a tiny discomfort, as the blood flowed up slowly but surely and stretched the skin of my dick for the first time in a century.

I felt a little soreness, but hell, I didn't care about that; I was HARD again! And hard again meant I could fuck again! Old George could go to hell - if he wasn't already there.

I began to softly kiss and nibble Helen's shoulders and lovely neck in a blatantly informative manner, whilst my manual delving into her pubes became a bit more adventurous. My fingers parted her soft, trimmed pussy lips, then I slipped a digit inside, and after a few moments' wriggling it around, I managed to produce some worthwhile lubricity down there. I heard her moan quietly, and she fidgeted as she began to wake up, so I pressed my now rigid dick underneath, up and into the hot, sweaty cleft of her ample, middle-aged but still firm bum.

I was full of doubt alright, but my heart was racing as I began to test the possibilities of proceeding further and consummating this happy event.

Helen moaned again, and pushed her ass back against my probing dick. At this stage, I wasn't sure whether it was by way of objection, her acquiescence, or just annoyance, but I allowed myself to believe I was in luck, and that it was a positive response to my clumsy sexual overtures. I heard her mumble: "Are you sure you're okay, Ken?"

My affirmative reply was to kiss her neck and shove my hips forward again, further into her ass crack, as I felt the blood flow stronger and the tingling in my proud, reborn dick increase.

Here I was, I thought, approaching the unexpected but longed for, habitual heaven again. My neck and shoulder kissing activities increased, plus a flick of my tongue into Helen's ear, and by now I was dipping two fingers gently but faster into a well lubricated cunt. I suspected Helen should by now be fully awake, so I made my usual gesture for her to turn her body around towards me, bringing my hand up to her shoulder and pressing backwards. No hesitation, she rolled over, threw a free arm around my back to clasp my buttocks; I did the same and pressed my open mouth to hers. Our tongues collided fast and furiously. If we had stale morning breath, neither of us cared, kissing like half-starved animals, fighting to suck the other's tongue into the back of the throat.

Our lower bodies also slammed together, my swollen cock flat against her belly and her lovely breast cushions against my chest. I drew my hips back enough to be able to manoeuvre the tip of my twitching organ down between her thighs and pressed forward and upward again, touching her delightful cunt lips with the tip of my cock. Overcoming the slight soreness I felt, I rubbed my cock head there for a while, shunting my hips back and forth against her now moistening pussy lips, before thrusting harder, in an effort to gain entry.

Helen opened her thighs, lifted her free leg up under my armpit and wriggled her ass to guide me. I pressed forward with the tip of my now rigid cock; her slippery pussy lips opened under pressure, and I was instantly inside her hot, tight wetness. We both gasped with the pleasure of the sudden, long overdue and very welcome meeting of hard and soft, rigid and pliant, dry and damp, urgent and obliging, flesh.

I pulled firmly with my hand on Helen's ass to increase the depth of my cock penetration. Without finesse, I banged hard into her dripping cunt, savouring at last this inexplicable pleasure after such a long absence. I thrust strongly and deeply, and my pace increased as we continued to tongue wrestle, both of us mumbling incomprehensible sounds into each other's throats. Oh happy day!

As though this was not enough, Helen suddenly tore her mouth from mine and burbled: "Quick, get on top, I need you on top of me."

With Helen, it was never hungry, out of control; maybe we thought too much about it. But this was as urgent as it gets, I thought. Throwing off the sheets, she swung her free leg off me, was on her back in an instant, her knees high and wide, head back on her pillow, eyes closed.

Pausing only to admire her neatly trimmed bush and her ample breasts now rolling over onto her ribs on each side, I was straight up on my knees and my rigid dick was sliding easily back inside her depths almost as quickly, to continue my energetic pumping, slapping rapidly in and out of her dampness. Helen's thighs found their traditional position against my ears, legs dangling over my shoulders, and my hands found their traditional position around her breasts, rolling them together, feeling the lovely weight of each of them against my palms. My thumbs pressed on, and teased her nipples. My eyes were fixed on their ample beauty.

Helen was always quick to come. And once she'd arrived, she usually wanted to get me out of her as soon as possible. She couldn't stand the eternal fuck like I did. As I sensed Helen's cunt start to tighten in its unique way, and her climax begin to build, I tried to increase my piston pace to my sixty year old maximum.

It was only then that the doubts began to seep through again. Helen had no need for such doubts; she was almost there. Within a few brief seconds of my momentary lapse of concentration, she was coming and I knew it was going to be what she called "a big one". A big one for Helen was a knee-jerking, body shuddering orgasm, and it was a rare event. The three week drought had obviously had some effect on her too, I was pleased to see.

I watched her face contort in magnificent passion. Her long, silky left leg began to spasm uncontrollably, wide out, straight and way up above my head, the other leg pressed down firmly on my shoulder, bringing her pelvis up and off the bed. My cock almost slipped out of her cunt, but I raised myself up higher on my knees to thrust back in and regain contact; that last well aimed thrust made Helen cry out and her climax washed over her in several high waves.

It was the big one, the tsunami, you might say. The trembling went on and on, and her moaning got louder as I profited to the maximum by pumping harder. The leg-jerking and then gasping lasted a full two minutes, and I continued to drive into Helen, not knowing whether to allow myself to spurt or not, not knowing if I could spurt or not. Not knowing if anything would come out of my cock-eye even if I did let it happen.

Helen's body began to calm down, her ass settled back onto the bed, her legs slipped down to my waist, then flopped flat onto the bed. Her moaning died away and her rapid breathing eased off. I slowed down my thrusting to a gentle pace. I looked with tenderness at her lovely face, her eyes closed, her head to one side.

I was pleased she'd had a big one; they were rare enough. But I also knew she was losing interest. Perceptibly, my erection began to slacken. Exit left, I thought. Also, I was thinking about the surgeon's instructions again: no sexual activity for four weeks.

I was not going to ejaculate this time, I thought. I'd just have to save it for another day. I allowed my body to relax on top of Helen, unmoving, pressed my chest against her wondrous cushions, found her mouth and kissed her again, tenderly this time, our wet tongues slipping together in post climactic saliva. Helen always liked that long moment of tenderness after her climax.

Then I eased my diminishing erection out of her hot moistness, lay down beside her, ran my hands gently over her undulating belly and breasts, allowed her to regain her calm.

As her breathing settled down, I heard her sigh and mumble: "Are you alright Ken? D'you want to come?"

I reflected for a few seconds. "Not sure if I should, maybe I should wait. I don't know." The doubts hung in the air, as I lay on my side of the bed and my erection faded half away. If I did, what would happen? Would I suffer unimaginable and insupportable pain? Would I be paralysed forever? Would I ejaculate blood? Would my balls drop off?

Helen could be so understanding, despite her aversion to multiple orgasms. "What do you think? Want me to help?"

I was almost overcome by her sudden thoughtfulness. She knew her man so well, she knew exactly what was needed at that moment, that's the kind of woman Helen was. She may be lacking adventure, but she knew how to please. Shuffling around towards me, raising herself up on one elbow, she reached over and placed her hand on my belly, ran her long fingers through my sparse short pubic hairs which had only just begun to sprout again after the hospital.

My cock reacted to her touch; I caressed her neck and shoulder, I relaxed and let the old organ fill up back to full rigidity a second time. It felt too good. And boy, I thought, a moment ago I had thought I was going to come, if only Helen hadn't been so damned quick to get hers. But that's Helen.

She continued to stroke my lower belly, then grasped my taught organ in her oh-so-soft fingers, squeezed and began to tease it in her own very special way, running her finger tips lightly along its length, up to the head and back to my pubes, then tickling underneath my balls with her long nails, very slowly. All this attention was guaranteed, normally, to get me quickly enough into ejaculation mode, which would have been perfect unto the day.

Helen disengaged herself from my continuing caresses, raised herself up onto her knees beside me, not letting go of my pulsing cock for an instant, and looked into my eyes. I liked that look she gave me. I shuffled up, now half sitting. She really was in a cooperative and obliging mood this morning, I reflected. Her superb breasts hung down and swung slightly towards me. As she rubbed my dick, I noticed a glistening, clear liquid had started to show at my cock-eye.

False alarm? I reached over and took a full, heavy breast in each hand, enjoying the weight of them, the hard nipples against my palms. I squeezed them lightly, very gently, worshipping their shape and form.

The unspoken decision was made in that instant.

I lay back against my pillow, closed my eyes and waited for that familiar, joyous pressure to build up. I ran my hands over Helen's shoulders, up onto her neck and face, caressing her in the tender way she liked, as she did the one job she really knew so well how to do. Her mouth dropped onto my belly, kissed me in butterfly kisses, up onto my chest, where she teased my nipples with her teeth. Her own nipples grazed against my belly as she moved up and down again, then trailed my thighs, as she continued to work the old engine with her closed fingers.

I felt the tingling start to happen in that old familiar way. I said nothing. I wanted Helen to take my hardness into her mouth and lick, suck hard. She didn't do that very often, but I knew she was in the mood to please me today. On the other hand, aroused as I was and ready to spurt, I couldn't help thinking about what the surgeon had said. What would come out of the old cock-eye, if and when I got there? Time to find out.

I felt the pressure increase down below, I relaxed, I let it come. My balls quivered and contracted; my lower body started to lift up as Helen worked her hand up and down. I felt that surge of power which told me each time I could conquer the world, and suddenly I was coming. At long last, after a century and a half of waiting, I was coming. I squeezed Helen's breasts hard, the signal.

Helen firmed up her grip around the head of my cock, squeezed more tightly and pumped faster, her other hand cupping my taught balls, as she felt my hips jerk and thrust upwards. Then, keeping her fist tight around my cock, she stopped pumping as my climax started, eyes fixed on my cock end, as though watching and waiting to see what would happen next.

She knew I was there at last, but we both knew what the other was waiting for. Helen's eyes were wide, glued to the end of my cock, and I raised my head to do the same.

My cocked jerked and vibrated along its whole length, I felt the old, old intensity of ejaculation. I felt the head swell and vibrate, the violent pumping of sperm from bottom to top, expected to see that familiar white slippery liquid spurting forcefully out of my cock-eye and over Helen's hand. But nothing came.

It was a dry climax, a totally dry ejaculation. An ejaculation which yielded nothing but pleasure, no ejaculate. But oh, the pleasure! All those strong feelings of intense orgasmic pleasure that always had been there, and that I was now convinced would always be there. Until the end of the world. My head went back and I began to tremble and at the same time laugh with a feeling of total relief. Whatever my balls had created in recent weeks, had been storing up and had just ejected, was probably swishing around right now in my bladder.

But fuck, I didn't care where it went, as long as I could come again!

Helen looked into my eyes, running her fingers again along the still jerking rigidity of my cock, squeezing the head, began to smile, then laugh with me. "There's nothing coming out, Ken, just like the man said. But how is it?"

I replied: "Yep. It's just like the man said. Nothing. Dry as a bone, a total non-ejaculation. But sweetheart, it's great!" Helen giggled and gave my wilting cock end a last squeeze, making my lower body shudder with belated, dry pleasure. She lay down beside me again, let out a sigh, and we stayed hugging and kissing each other for a while, her hand cupped over my shrunken equipment. Then I said: "At least we'll save on Kleenex bills from now on".

We both laughed crazily for a full five minutes.