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My wife Joan is 62 years old. She is a doctor and a dancer; her lifelong devotion to the art has kept her slim and strong, with great vitality, despite thinning skin, age spots and thickening around the middle. I am passionately drawn to her, find her very attractive, love her with a depth I never knew was possible, and want to fuck her often. (All you young people out there, just because we’re old it doesn’t mean we’re dead. We are hot, passionate, sexual animals with all the desires we had when we were young, just a bit of a different rhythm. Yes, kids, your parents and your grandparents are still fucking each other, no matter how old they are. It’s not gross, either. It’s beautiful. )
I’m also am fit and strong from cycling and dance. We met at 21, married at 25 and have been married for 36 years, and other than a little indiscretion of hers right after we got married, completely faithful to each other; in body, at least. I suppose you could call my active fantasy life an act of faithlessness, but if any harm is done there it’s more likely to me, although she inevitably gets caught in the backwash. I alternately cherish and feel imprisoned by my fantasies, but, as a typically self centered male it has always seemed perfectly reasonable to me that she would joyfully participate, too. I mean, why not make me happy? She’s even done most of it at one time or another. The logic is unassailable, yes?
Actually, no. Unfortunately for my fantasy life, she is not a fantasy woman, but is an actual woman, with a very busy life full of competing demands, and meeting my sexual fantasies is pretty low on her priority list. Over so many years, marriages change as the individuals in the marriage change. She’s been satisfied with the time we carve out weekend mornings for simple, loving sex; time to even develop the framework for fantastic sex has been extremely hard to come by. For most of our years, we took occasional long weekends to go away and have a lot of sex of varying degrees of intensity, but over the past several years a change had come on her. It turned out she felt she “had been doing it for me,” and even though she loved it in the moment, there was a deeper disconnection for her because the stimulus came from me. Despite the undeniable fact that she had pleasure and passion, because I left no space for her to originate an experience she didn’t own it. And menopause changed her as well. Her need to satisfy me was less.
I got angry, I got frustrated, I pleaded, I withdrew, but I couldn’t find the right formula. It been a multi-year project to discover how to present my sex to her as an ocean she could jump into and swim around in instead of a waterfall that crashed down on her head. I was obsessed with an idea of what good sex was, and if she didn’t meet that ideal, I was unhappy. I had to let go of those ideas and throw myself out on the winds of chance. After thousands of dollars of therapy and hundreds of hours of conversation I realized, and announced, that I wanted be with her even if we never had sex again. The process that began with that statement ultimately freed me from my compulsion and allowed much more openness from me. I still asked for what I wanted, regularly, but it came without cloying expectation. I stopped blaming her for what didn’t happen, and lo and behold, found myself actually happier with what did happen! I stopped feeling like I was deprived. She gradually came to believe in my change and be able to walk in my shoes a bit, freeing her up to give more. And so, the cycle became so virtuous that for my 62nd birthday I got a beautiful card, filled with loving sentiment, and a coupon redeemable for the unbridled sex week I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I was humbled, gratified, and tremendously excited. A plan took shape, for a hot summer week—a couple days at home, then off to the Napa Valley spa town of Calistoga for the long weekend.
DAY ONE. I started the week slowly, that first day, a Monday, allowing her to wake up on her own time. After bringing her coffee upstairs, I got into bed and held her for a long, long time, kissing, neither of us speaking, marinating in our love. Her pajamas came off, one piece at a time. When my cock finally hardened I slipped inside her and we fucked gently. I softened and withdrew. She looked at me in surprise.
“I thought this was your wild week. I told you it could begin this morning.”
“It is, it has begun, but there’s no hurry. I didn’t even take my Viagra this morning. I need you to be completely with me, no hesitation, no regrets, so we can work into it at a slow pace. Don’t worry, you’ll be pretty well-used before the week is done! I’m not going to be forcing you to do anything, just asking. If you have to say no, you can, but what I want to hear is yes. I’m simply asking you to be generous with me. Be available, be enthusiastic, be naked, be oral, pleasure yourself, thoroughly enjoy my happiness. No judgments, no regrets.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Naked all the time? That might be the hardest thing. Well, just be sure the house is warm.”
“You can wear a flimsy little nothing if you want, inside, xslot but no underwear or bras or anything. It’s going to be hot in Calistoga. And I already reset the thermostats! Want to go for a walk?”
“Sure, just gimme a minute.”
And with that she slid down and took my cock in her mouth, long smooth strokes taking it in and out. The heat and the touch were delicious. I hardened almost immediately. She stopped for a second, asking,
“Can you see all right? I know you like to watch me do this.”
Speechless, I just nodded, and she went back to mouthing me with long, smooth strokes, taking a break and using her hand, then swallowing me up again. I was thrilled watching her lips surround the hard pole of my cock, the neatly manicured hand supporting it carrying her familiar rings. Finally, she went all the way down and slid her lips up my cock very slowly, popping off and kissing the tip. She looked up at me and smiled, my cock in her hand.
“How was that? Did you like it?” I nodded like an idiot, feeling that big dumb irrepressible smile on my face. “Good. I liked it, too. I suppose I’ll be doing a lot more of that this week, huh?”
I nodded like an idiot, but then said, “Yes, quite a bit, I would hope. Thanks for the reassurance.”
“You’re welcome. Slow is still the right approach, I think. I just wanted you to know that I’m really taking this to heart. Anything I’m able to give this week, you’re getting.”
Starting with her clothing; for our walk she wore a loose skirt and baggy sweater with nothing else. Not that sexy to look at, maybe, but it made her body very accessible, giving me a number of opportunities to feel her, see her and expose her, on our long loop through the Presidio. We got home and sat down together on the living room couch. I put on some music, and putting my arm around her shoulders slipped my hand under her top, caressing her nipple. She sighed, yielding happily to my touch, took the sweater off and lowered her hand to my crotch. I took off my clothes; her hand rested firmly on my soft but exquisitely sensitive cock. I reached down between her legs, pulling up the skirt to massage her clit.
“Put your leg up here, Joanie,” I said, taking her foot and putting it on the couch, opening her up to me and forcing my fingers into her. Having free reign with her body brought me so much pleasure!
She started rocking her hips against my hand, sliding my fingers in and of her while rubbing her clitoris against my now pretty slick palm. As she yielded to passion her body softened and slid down into my lap, forcing an organic replacement of her hand with her mouth. I stiffened as she sucked.
Looking up for a second, she asked, “So, Sam, how am I doing? Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes, it is. And so is this!”
I rolled her off me and onto her knees, up against the couch, pulled the skirt down to the floor and in one motion drove my cock fully into her core, pulling her ass back against me, fucking with long, deep strokes, running my hand over her strong, beautiful back as my hips slowly became covered with her wetness. Just to digress a bit, ‘hard’ has a different meaning at 62 than it did at 22. I only get that tree-like feeling with a combination of Viagra and passion. Passion alone produces enough of a hard on to fuck with, but not the irrepressibly large feeling of years gone by, and it could fade at any moment. Cumming is a few measly squirts rather than that endless stream of seed I used to produce. Despite this, the emotions, the spirit and the desire to possess her are unquenched, and passionate sex is deeply satisfying.
But back to the story. My cock indeed softened and we slowed to a stop. Joanie threw on her sweater, but we left the rest of our clothes in a heap on the living room floor, and went upstairs naked to work at our desks for a couple hours. Later, after retrieving our clothes we had a sweet, romantic dinner out, filled with light loving conversation, gentle kisses, entwined hands and no feeling up at all. When we got home, we got ready for bed, me nude, Joan with a little black camisole, read a bit, then cuddled and fell asleep in a tangle of tired limbs
DAY TWO. The next morning, Tuesday, I got up early, had my coffee, took my Viagra, and when it started coming on I woke her up by sliding my hard cock between her legs and titillating her clit with some gentle back-and-forthing. Still on the slow plan, I kept my cock away from her mouth and did the fucking straight, but ramping up the intensity I moved her into a few positions, driving in a bit harder when she was the most exposed. Happily, she responded well, getting into receiving me in the passive positions, presenting herself and pushing back in the more active ones, and coming with me at the end. After a nice shower and a big breakfast, we separated for the day as we each had some work to do to free up the rest of the week. Happily, she spent the day ‘dressed’ in a very revealing, very short little chemise, nipples straining against the fabric, sitting there at her computer, preparing a lecture. Incongruous, but pretty darn xslot Giriş sexy. It was hard to keep my cock out of her mouth, but pleasure delayed is decidedly not pleasure denied.
That night I was taking her out to a fancy, romantic dinner, and I had a particular scene in mind. It started with a classic, age appropriate black dress, fitting tightly around her torso, beautifully engineered from satin and lace, sheer in the back, all the way down to just above her butt, exposing her back, and a full skirt, mid calf length, with a hidden slit extending most of the way up her thigh. Makeup finished, she came out into the bedroom. I was waiting with the camera.
“I’m dressed,” she said, “and you’re naked. Don’t we have to go soon?” Click.
“Pretty soon. Have I ever told you what a beautiful dress that is?”
Click. “I thin k so.” She struck a pose against the wall, hands on her hips. “Do you want to tell me again?”
“Well, it’s a beautiful dress.” Click. She tossed her head, mocking a model’s pose. “Especially with you naked underneath.” Click.
“Only you know that.”
“People who see you from the back will be wondering, though. Put your leg up on the ottoman.”
The skirt fell open to mid thigh, revealing her flesh. Click. She looked at me. She smiled. I was getting hard. She pointed at it saying,
“Uh-oh. Really? I just got this dress on, it’s kind of complicated to get it off.”
“Yes, really. Getting it off is exactly what I don’t want. Getting you off, on the other hand…. Put your hands behind your head. Show me your chest.” Click.
“Sit down. Spread your legs.” Click. “Wider.” Click.
“God, Sam, if you make me mess this dress up I’m not going to be able to wear it tonight, y’know?” Click. “You really are kind of a pervert, aren’t you?”
The slit found her thigh again, the white skin of her bare leg contrasting with the black satin of the dress. Click.
“Guilty,” I said. “I’m being driven crazy by a beautiful, willing woman. We’ll just have to careful. Pull the skirt up higher.” Both her legs were exposed now, knees wide apart, with the fabric of the dress just falling down in between. Click. “Put your hand between your legs.”
She laughed, a little nervously, as she slipped her hand under the skirt. “You really want me to go here, now?” Click.
“Yes, yes I do. I’ve been fantasizing about this moment for ten years. Pull it up all the way. Show me what you’re doing.” She lifted up a bit, the skirt falling to the sides as i saw her finger working her clit. Click, Click.
“Put your fingers inside. Fuck yourself.” Click, click, click. She started breathing harder as she fucked herself with two fingers. My hand started working my cock.
“Ten years you’ve been dreaming about this? That’s kind of sick. How much life did you miss? Hope it’s worth the wait!”
“Jesus, Joan, you have no idea how worth it it is. Put another finger in. And I didn’t miss much. Still got to spend it with you.”
“Awww. Good answer.”
She was masturbating with a lot more enthusiasm now, my obvious excitement turning her on, looking at the camera with a charming combination of eroticism and incredulity. I positioned the camera on its tabletop tripod and set it on automatic. Watching this, she said, “Hmm, I bet I can guess what’s coming next!” She opened her mouth and made a big pouty circle with her lips.
“Gosh Joanie, am I that transparent?”
“Yes,” she replied, “subtlety is not your strong suit. But I wasn’t born yesterday, either. I know there’s no way I can avoid cocksucking in this circumstance, so get over here.”
I came over with the remote, positioning my profile to the camera, and she spun to face me and put both hands on my hips to take my cock unhesitatingly into her mouth. We were both getting pretty hot.
“Oh my God, Joan, this is a total home run. Put your hand back down there,” I panted.
Turning her head, I rotated the ottoman back to face the camera.
Laughing, she said “Careful, I’m not as flexible as I used to be!”
Keeping her legs spread wide to the camera she slipped two fingers into her cunt and twisted her torso to the left, my cock still buried in her mouth as she sucked away.
She started grinding her hips against her hand. “God this is so lewd! This thrills you?”
I was very excited. “Hmm, let me think about that, my wife is dressed in a fancy dress and sucking my dick while fucking herself? I’d say, yes, thrilling!” Click.
“OK, no judgment and no regrets, I promised! But I’m hungry. Let’s finish this up. You want to come in my mouth?” She slipped to her knees and really went to work on my cock with hands and mouth, pounding me in and out, rubbing it harshly. Click click click!
God, she had actually asked me that! The answer was yes, but I couldn’t stand it. I had to possess her right then. Forgetting the camera, I picked her up bodily, threw her on the bed, pushed the skirt up above her waist and fucked the bejesus out of her until I rammed in deep and shot my aging little jet up into her. She responded enthusiastically. xslot Güncel Giriş It only took us about a minute. We didn’t get any cum on the dress.
While she dabbed up the mess between her legs, I put on a suit and tie and we went to dinner. Just in these two short days, years of concern had fallen away from her face. She was happy and clowned around in the car, making fun of me, squeezing my limp cock, baring her legs, showing me her still wet center. At the restaurant, we giggled and cooed like a couple of kids, sitting next to each other in a little booth instead of across from each other at a table. I often had a hand between her legs, touch her clit or slipping a finger insider her. We drank too much, and it took a lot of my concentration to get us home safely. Of course she was doing her best to distract me, legs spread, feet planted on the dashboard. Pay no attention to that wet bare cunt in the chair next to you! We stumbled up the stairs and barely got out of our clothes before falling right to sleep.
DAY THREE. I brought her coffee early, around seven, and we sat and read the paper while she woke up.
“Did you have fun last night, Sam?”
“You bet I did. That was fantastic! It was exactly what I had been dreaming about for years. And the pictures are amazing!”
“I don’t know if I can look at those or not, but you had better keep them tightly under control. Hope you didn’t jerk off too much this morning, but thanks for letting me wake up. Do you want to fuck me now?”
“I didn’t jerk off at all, actually, I have you fully, so I am totally calm. As far as major fucking goes, I’m going to wait until we get to Calistoga, I think. I’m going to go run a couple of errands now, but what I would like you to do is to start masturbating now and to keep it up for the entire time I’m gone. Can you do that?”
She was embarrassed again. “Alone? Don’t you want to see me?”
“I will watch you get started, and see you when I get back, but mostly I want you to remember that you are capable of real self pleasure. I need you to experience that feeling again. I want to visualize you doing yourself for the next hour. Can you move to the chair?” I had covered our Herman Miller chair with towels and set some lube and a dildo on the small table: That was new for us.
“OK.” She saw the dildo. “I’m not using that. Put it away.”
“Don’t prejudge it, honey, just use it if you feel like it. I’m only asking. I’ll leave it here for now.”
When she sat down the chemise hiked itself up to her waist. She looked at me with a wry expression on her face and slid a hand between her legs.
“That turns me on, Joanie, to see that. You make me hot.”
“Really, just watching me?” she circled her finger gently on her clit, opening her legs.
“You make me hot when you’re dressed, so this? Duh! Thinking about it for the next hour, visualizing you here? Very exciting.”
“OK, visualize away.” There was a combination of resignation and anticipation in her voice. “I’m doing it. I’ll keep doing it, I won’t stop, and I’ll be doing it when you get back. Try not to cum in your pants when you think about me sitting here, touching myself and cumming all over the chair. Go do what you needed to do.”
I was gone for about an hour. As I came back in the house, I could hear the rhythm of her heavy breathing punctuated by occasional sounds of pleasure. I put a few things away and dawdled for a minute. A high pitched gasp floated down the stairs, and I imagined her face, eyes closed, mouth half open as the waves of pleasure rolled across it. My cock twitched in line with my imagination, but upstairs, the reality was vastly better. There was my completely naked wife deep in passionate sexual abandon, her long gray hair framing her face and neck, her head nestled up on the arm of the chair, the wrinkles of her face and neck rolling and stretching as her passion radiated into the room. Her breasts sagged off to either side, the stretch marks white against the flush of her skin, her nipples hard as plum pits. My wish had come true. Her legs were spread wide and pulled up high in the easy chair as the dildo moved rhythmically and repeatedly in and out of her, the beat matching her laboring breath. Her lower lips, obscenely effaced, glistened around the realistic plastic cock. She pulsed with erotic energy.
I picked up the camera and snapped off a couple quick shots, then dropped it and my clothes. Her eyes fluttered open and she wordlessly reached out to my cock as I got in range, guiding it to her mouth and swallowing me up. Semi-hard though I was, I began to thrust in and out, matching her rhythm, but her hand on my hip stopped me. Looking me right on the eye, she reached up between my legs, grabbed my ass and pulled me as deep into her mouth as I had ever been. I felt the back of her throat on my cockhead, her tongue moving back and forth slowly on the insanely sensitive under skin. I tried real hard not to fuck her mouth as she arched her back, pushing down toward her hand, coming again and again around the dildo. Finally, panting, she settled down a bit, opening her eyes, pulling back as my cock popped up and banged off my belly as she extracted me from her mouth and let go of the dildo. Her arms hung loosely at her sides as the dildo inched its way out of her and dropped to the floor.
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