Loading...There are certain things that I think we all take for granted, at least for some time in our lives. Well, I had one of those things taken from me, and it wasn’t fun, except for what Ginnie brought to me. Let me explain.
I live in a large city, and in a large apartment building with many tenants on each floor. So what we trade off for volume, we get some amenities. It is a nice building with kept grounds, indoor parking, and security.
That’s important to many of us the this growing climate of danger of being shot at the next office, post office, school yard, etc.
So I had been living at this apartment for a couple years, and began to recognize some faces after a while. Most people are personable, and nod and smile in the elevator or at the front door. And so it often takes a while for new people to make an impression, because the are quite a few people around the grounds.
But I noticed Ginnie right away. I knew through the grapevine that there was a vacancy on our floor, and that a single lady was moving in. Small town life gets nosy sometimes. And later I saw a moving truck with movers carrying boxes and furniture to the newly rented apartment on our floor. I was home that day, and offered to help the new tenant, and introduced myself to her.
She was about late 40’s, but looked quite a bit younger. She was about 5’6″, dark brown hair, and obviously took care of her body. She had impeccable clothes, a lithe figure that was highlighted by the taste in clothing that was in good taste in spite of the hassles of moving. But I suppose what got me going from the start was her accent. She was English. Her accent was a beautiful one of breeding, and not cockney, which is charming too. But somehow, on her, she sounded incredible. She introduced herself as Ginnie, short for Virginia.
“Everyone calls me Ginnie,” she said with a smile. I was done. Something about the combination of her looks and her smile, and that accent were just the right combination for me to set my imagination going. Sometimes you really cannot explain the things that set off your inner attraction. But with her, it was the whole package.
I spent some time in England during college, and had dated a few English women. So there was this accent thing I had. Also, I had always been attracted to older women. I liked the experience they brought to a relationship, and how there was frequently less game playing because they knew what the wanted from their relationships. When I was in college, I dated older women. When I was out of college, I dated women 6+ years my senior. It was my destiny, I suppose. So I was sort of smitten from the beginning. I did not know a thing about her circumstances, and why she was single, and why she was in this country, and why she was in this building, etc. But I sure wanted to find out.
I am in my mid 20’s, and do a lot of traveling for my work, and so for a while, I am not around for periods of time. Then I have blocks of time off where I am not really working a regular schedule, and can do some things that I like to do. It sort of balances itself out after a while.
Over the next few weeks, I saw Ginnie here and there, and we became casual friends. I tried to offer my help with local things, where to shop, where to fix the car, where to go to eat, etc. So Ginnie would call me every so often for little things, and we would run into each other at some errand places (because she ended up going where I recommended, see). There was nothing forced about things, perhaps our age difference made things not so threatening, or plausible. We had dinners together once or twice a week, and occasionally we would do fun things together on the weekends when I was in town. I began to learn more and more about her, and why she was at this point in her life.
It turns out she is actually 52, and widowed for about 3 years. Her husband of 20+ years died from a work-related accident, and she had always wanted to live in the United States. So after her period of mourning, she had substantial means from her late husband’s estate and insurance and she decided to move closer to her cousin who lives in the same city. After a couple weeks staying with her and her family, she stumbled on the apartment in this building, and she was trying to build a new life for herself.
She would get rather quiet when she spoke of her late husband. The had two grown children, now out of the house and in college in the States too, so all the more reason to come abroad. Her prior occupation was in nursing, but that was may years ago she said, before children. That was how she met her husband. I didn’t pry for information. It sort of came out gradually with our conversations over this topic and that. I got the feeling she was still sort of mourning, and I didn’t want to open cans that weren’t meant to be opened. At least not yet for her. She offered information, and I listened.
So she spent her days learning her way around the city, and arranging her affairs about the apartment, which she decorated quite tastefully. She had much nice furniture from England, and her taste in decorating was impeccable. She was also into aerobics, and was an avid member of the nearby gym. Time was her friend, and she seemed to be happy in her new life.
Then things for me changed. One of those things I took for granted was my health. I was always healthy, never injured, and never had to see a doctor about anything. Then a couple months ago everything changed. I was helping a friend with some painting on a house he was renovating with his wife, and one of the air compressors we were using for painting exploded when we were cleaning it, and severely injured my hands. Both hands suffered burns to the forearm on me, and my friend had much more minor scrapes from the accident. I however, ended up in the hospital for weeks, undergoing several surgeries for corrective surgery, skin grafting and rehabilitation. I knew my overall picture was lucky. I had no other major injuries. But losing the use of your hands makes one so dependent on others, from eating, to driving to wiping your own ass. Not easy, and very humbling. But I was recovering and Ginnie was among my best friends during my recovery. She was visiting me in the hospital, helping me understand the doctor talk from her experience in nursing, and helping me take care of my life and my apartment while I was in the hospital.
So pretty soon, I was transferred to a rehab section of the hospital for more aggressive therapy and for preparation for discharge. A social worker was given my case, and told me I would probably need a home care nurse for my dressing changes, and for other things like meals and bathing for the next couple weeks, at least that’s what the doctors thought. Then when I told Ginnie of the good news of my release, she said in her own proper way, that she would hear nothing of the sort. She had nursing skills, and though they were rusty, she still remembered how to change dressings, and do the bathing, etc. She can be very convincing, and she convinced the staff that she was capable and learned what to do in the hospital, and that the insurance company could save some money. She agreed to bring me in for weekly rechecks and outpatient therapy, and she would be happy to help me out, as I was helpful to her in her move to this city.
I was sort of embarrassed at my situation, but certainly enjoyed and appreciated Ginnie’s offer, that I just let the chips fall. So after 3 weeks in the hospital, I was finally released to home, under Ginnie’s care. She had all the supplies and instructions, and had taken great care of my apartment in my absence. It actually looked better than when I left because everything was clean and even arranged a little better, with some of her taste here and there. I told her immediately how much I appreciated her help and that I thought the changes she made were quite wonderful.
We sort of settled in to our routine of Ginnie coming over in the morning for the am dressing change, and she would make some food for the day. I began to be able to at least feed myself, and she didn’t need to be around all day. She said she actually liked having someone else to take care of, after her husband died and the children were out of the house. She genuinely enjoyed helping me and I truly depended on her. She was able to still have her life, and I didn’t want to be a leach or a pest. I didn’t ask for much that she didn’t already plan on doing. I can get be pretty well with a couple sandwiches and the remote control.
As my life started getting back to normal, and I wasn’t needing so much medicine, and things weren’t hurting all the time, I began to realize that other natural urges had not been satisfied in more than a month. That’s a long time for me. If I’m not involved with someone romantically, I usually have a date with the right hand daily. I just need the relief and have the urges at least that often. The bandages were no easy matter in this regard either. I was at a loss, because I was beginning to feel some urgency in not having had an orgasm in so long, and no solution in the immediate future.
I had to be a little more discreet in the evenings when Ginnie would help me into the shower. Our routine was that at first she would use a wet washcloth and sponge me off, leaving my crotch covered with a towel, and then just at the end, quickly lift the towel too gently bathe my genital area. Over the last few days, I began to eagerly anticipate the quick, but knowing few seconds of attention to my deprived groin, and I began to get an erection just as we started the routine. So by the time she got to bathe my cock and balls, I was quite fully erect.
“I can see we’re feeling better, then, aren’t we?” she asked with a sly smile.
“It sure has been a long time, you know. I don’t think I can remember ever having gone this long without, you know, release,” I replied, fishing for a response.
She just smiled, and kept on her business.
After a few days of this, I was getting quite frustrated with the situation, and I was beside myself for an orgasm. I think Ginnie must have sensed my urgency, and then the next day, she changed the routine a little.
Things began the same, with her wrapping up my arms, and tucking the towel between my legs, rather like a diaper. And I was already quite hard just from anticipation and the weeks of pent-up immobilization.
“My, we certainly are eager today, aren’t we?” she smiled. The smile was accompanied by her sweet accent and knowing glance into my eyes. She began to clean me off as usual, but spent some more time around my thighs and stomach, sort of lingering more than usual. Then when she got to my groin, she lifted the towel off instead of pushing it aside, and looked long and hard at my long and hard cock, red and bursting with weeks of sperm.
“I think I know what might help you,” she said, and reached down beside the bed for some baby oil she had brought to occasionally put on my feet and arms. “I used to do this for my husband all the time. There were many times when he needed some relief, and I was not entirely in the mood. Or I was too pregnant.” She sort of took on a dreamy, far-away look as she massaged the oil into her hands. She stared off into space and kept massaging her hands together, as if remembering fond long ago times she had.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her hands, as they were massaging together, hoping beyond all hope that they would really touch me, really stroke my cock as she looked like she might. She kept to herself for an eternity. Actually it was only a few moments, but it felt like forever.
Then she reached down and took my cock in her slippery hands and just squeezed my and held my cock in her hands, looking down at my cock, with the head sticking up beyond her hand, and oozing with precum.
“I forgot how good it felt to hold a hard-on in my hands,” she said, still with that dreamy, far-away look in her eyes. “My husband would love when I did this for him. It would satisfy him so. He needed his treat almost daily, even sometimes twice a day when we were first married,” she continued, as if narrating a story for me. “I remember how much he would look at me with love
and passion in his eyes as I was stroking him.” With that she began to stroke my hard cock up and down, slippery with the oil in her hands.
She looked at me and smiled when I let out a moan of sheer pleasure and relief at the at last touch of skin on my cock. ” It has been so, so long since anyone, including myself, has touched me like this,” I said with short breath.
“You must be all bottled up in there, now mustn’t you,” she smiled. “You poor dear. Here I was all this time mending to your wounds, that I forgot about your other needs. I hope I remember how to do this now. It has been a long time for me too, you realize.”
“It feels incredible. I’m afraid after so long, this will be over rather quickly,” I said, a little sheepishly.
“Well, you just lie there and let your friend Ginne take care of this need you have. Are you like my husband too? Needing some relief all the time?” she smiled at me briefly, looking in my eyes with a knowing look, but never taking her hands off my cock or stopping her stroking. She continued to look intensely at my cock sliding through her hands, and had a pleasing smile on her face. “I forgot how much I liked to bring pleasure to a man too. I can tell you are liking this, aren’t you?”
I could only nod my head in agreement, and cold feel myself quickly approaching my orgasm. I looked at her hands stroking my oily shaft in her small hands, and she let one hand go to gently squeeze my balls. She grasped me harder and continued her deliberate rhythm of this wonderful hand job.
I clenched my eyes for a moment at the impending climax, but I wanted to see myself shoot my come al over my chest and her hands. I didn’t want to take my eyes off this sight that I wanted embedded into my memory forever.
“A man shouldn’t have to go for so long without a good come. It’s just not natural,” Ginnie continued, obviously enjoying this, but not nearly as much as me. “I just cannot believe I’ve been so neglectful.” She continued her stroking of my shaft and squeezing my balls with her hands, moving a little quicker now. ” I guess I haven’t forgotten after all. I can feel it getting closer and closer.”
Again, I just nodded, and kept my gaze transfixed on her hands moving on me. I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to.
“Now you just let yourself go, and have a good come for me. I will clean everything up, don’t you worry about a thing. Yes, that’s right my love, just go on and let it go. Come for us.”
Her voice was almost a whisper now, and I was almost there. In a few more strokes, I cold feel the orgasm hit me like I can’t remember before. I could feel by balls tighten up as I shot my load high up into the air as Ginnie stroked and pumped me in rhythm to my spasms. The first shot landed up over my left shoulder; I could hear it hit the pillow beside my head. And then I kept shooting more and more cum that I ever remember onto my chest and stomach. Ginnie pumped and squeezed the sperm out of me and I nearly passed out from pleasure and final, ultimate release.
She held my cock in her hands as it continued to leak cum down onto her hand and overflowed to my stomach. I was so overwhelmed with relief at this sensation, and I know it was because it had been so long, but the total experience was unbelievable. I couldn’t speak; I just took deep breaths and smiled up at my angel who brought me this gift.
“Well then, it sure has been a long time. I don’t ever remember seeing my John come like that before. But I don’t think in all the years of our marriage I let him go for more that one of two days without some kind of treat. A man might wander off, don’t you know, if a woman doesn’t keep him happy as far as this goes,” she said with a firm squeeze of my still-hard cock. “You sure did need that, I could tell”
She used the towel that was wrapped around my groin earlier to clean things up. She wiped the drops of cum that were pooled on my stomach, around my balls, and running down the sides of my chest. She even reached up to wipe to drop that went up to the pillow, and smiled and said, “I don’t remember seeing anyone shoot it up this high love.” In reaching up, her breasts were only inches from my face, and reached my head up a little to get a little closer and inhale her scent and perfume.
She looked down at me trying to get a little closer to her gorgeous tits, and lingered there for a moment longer than she had to, and perhaps leaned down a little further. Perhaps that was my imagination though.
Her task completed, she began straightening things up to leave, and helped me into my clothes, giving my cock one last squeeze before tucking things away. I finally regained my voice, and said, “I needed that so much. It had been longer that I can remember. That felt so good, Ginnie. You obviously haven’t forgotten how to please a man with your hands. That was truly wonderful. Thank you.”
“Don’t think anything about it, dear. I am just sorry you had to wait this long.” She cheerily finished her few things, and told me she’d see me tomorrow. And perhaps it was my imagination again, but I thought she emphasized ‘see’ just a little more that before.
The next day, after I slept better than previous nights, Ginnie came by in the morning to do the dressings, and fix a few things to eat for the day, while she was out doing her thing. “Well, how did we sleep last night? A little more relaxed today,” she said with that sly smile.
“Yes, quite,” I said, with as much of an English accent as I could. “My hands are a little more sore today though. I think I tried to grab the sheets last night, or something. I think I’ll get over it though. Perhaps it might quicken my recovery at therapy, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps,” she said cheerily.
The day was rather uneventful, and I was looking forward to this evening, hoping Ginnie would make this hand job a nightly ritual too. I replayed in my mind over and over her giving me an incredible hand job, and hearing her voice telling me to let it go and come for her, and seeing her smile as I shot my load all over the place.
Ginnie knocked on the door after dinner, about the usual time, and asked if I was ready for my bath. I wasn’t sure if there was anything to read into the question, so we just went into the bedroom as before, and she helped me out of my clothes, again covering my groin modestly with a towel, just as before.
Of course, I was immediately hard with anticipation, but not wanting to ask for a repeat of last night, lest I take advantage of her kindness. She smiled at my condition, and went about her regular routine, chatting away about her day, and a little about her late husband John. I sensed that dreamy quality to her voice, and helped her to remember things at her own pace, and let her do the talking. She seemed more willing to talk about him than before and offered more bits and pieces about their relationship.
She spent more time bathing me than usual, and continued her monologue about her past. I just relished in the attention, and she obviously enjoyed pulling up some burried memories. As she got closer and closer to the groin part of the wash, she looked at my cock pushing the towel up, and smiled, “Are we needing our little treat again then?”
“Yes, please. It felt so good, and I would like it very much if you would do it again,” I said as politely as I possibly could, without begging. Though I probably would have done that too.
“Well, we just can’t leave you all worked up like this, can we?”
She pulled the towel away, and smiled at my aching hard on, jutting up from my stomach, eagerly awaiting her touch. My cock jumped a little at its release. “I was hoping you would say that.”
She got up from the side of the bed and went over to the bureau to get the oil she had left there the night before. “I really enjoyed it too. It brought back so many fond memories for me, that I had locked away. It has been more that three years since my John died, and I haven’t been with a man since. I guess I just forgot what it was like to hold a man’s hardness in my hand, and enjoy the feeling of bringing him pleasure. It’s a wonderful thing, don’t you think, for two people to share the giving and receiving of pleasure. It is truly God’s gift, I believe.”
She went on, again rubbing the oil in her hands as she was talking, obviously remembering fond times with her husband.
“I remember some 30 years ago, when we were first married, we would make love 2 and 3 times a day. John was a wonderful lover to me. He so enjoyed my body, and I his. Our love never died over the years. We cherished so much together. I still don’t understand his death. He was a good man, and never harmed anyone. I accept it as God’s will, and that perhaps I am not yet supposed to understand it. But I have come to terms with it now, and I am not so sad anymore. I have such good memories.”
Throughout her reverie she had sat down again next to me on the side of the bed and held my cock in her hand. I gasped at the first contact of her hand on me, and she squeezed my cock firmly in her hand. I think she was thinking back on her John and thinking I might have been him.
“You feel much like he did. Although I think you are a bit bigger here,” she smiled at me, looking me in the eyes deeply and keeping a firm hold, sliding up and down slowly on my hard cock. “But you have the same need as he did, I sense. You enjoy the receiving of pleasure don’t you love? We all do, I think. I just know that some men need ‘this’ more that others.” Her word, ‘this’ was punctuated by a firm squeeze on my cock.
“I could see it in your eyes yesterday. The need, the urgency. I could see you tried to get closer to these too,” she said pushing out her tits farther, recognizing my attempt at touching her breasts when she cleaned me up last night.
“John was the same too. He said it made it feel better when he could touch and feel me too.” She became quiet for a moment, and pensive, while still slowly stroking me and looking at my cock in her hand.
She stopped then and took her hands away. I immediately felt that ‘busted’ feeling when caught looking at some nice breasts or ass by your girlfriend. I can’t help it; it’s a guy thing. I thought my treat was over, but instead Ginnie reached her hands up to unbutton her blouse and looked me in the eyes as she unveiled her brassiere holding her firm, large breasts. She pulled her shirt out of her pants and pulled the sleeves off her arms slowly. My eyes were fixed on her tits, and I could see her nipples outlined sharply against the thin material of the white, silky bra. The bra itself was sexy with lace outlining the edges and emphasized the cleavage, which was abundant. I always thought she must have great tits, even for a woman of 50 with 2 kids.
She reached behind her back to unclasp the bra and let the shoulder straps fall down from her shoulders onto her arms. For a moment, the bra hung there and I thought that’s all I was going to see. She grasped my cock again, and resumed her stroking, adding a little oil to her hand and my shaft. Her bra stayed there. Ginnie was now looking in my eyes now, as if to make sure she had my full attention. I assure, it couldn’t be fuller. My attention, that is.
Then as her one hand stopped its course of stroking for a moment, as if to gauge my reaction when her breasts were finally released, her other hand pulled her bra free, and I stared brazenly at her exquisite breasts. Her nipples were large and erect, standing out proudly from her tits. There was not much sag to her full breasts, and I longed to feel their weight in my hands. My cock pulsed on its own, and she smiled at me, enjoying the reaction she had on me.
“John always liked to look at my boobs when I would take care of him. He was a very visual man. We never turned the lights out when we made love. He would fondle and squeeze my breasts, and drive me wild before he was actually inside me.” Again, she became a little lost in thought. I enjoyed seeing her breasts bob in time to her hand stroking me off. She stared off in space, and I enjoyed looking at her face, somehow allowing her the return of good, pleasing memories. I also enjoyed looking at her hard nipples and her hand stroking my dick.
“Does this make it feel better for you too? Do you like looking at me, at my naked breasts so close to you?
“Yes indeed, Ginnie. You look wonderful. So sexy and so beautiful. I can see why he had such love for you. You are a very sexy woman.”
“I haven’t heard those words in a long time. You are kind to say that, especially in this compromising position.”
She continued to stroke me faster, bringing me closer and closer to another incredible orgasm, so quickened by the sight of her breasts moving and swaying in front of me, and the smell of her perfume, so close to my face.
“Would you do something for me? I know your hands are encumbered. Will you take me into your mouth, and let me feel your touch on me?” She inched up higher, sitting up with her breasts hanging teasingly and wantingly in front of my face. Her breasts swayed and her nipple grazed my lips. “Please, I too need to feel your touch. It’s been long for me too, and you have awakened feelings in me, that have long been asleep.”
I felt her nipple across my lips and I looked up at her, her hands still stroking my cock, bringing me closer and closer. I inhaled deeply, and simultaneously tried to hold off on coming right there. I opened my mouth and kissed her nipple, and sucked it into my mouth. I was dying to reach up and feed her whole breast into my mouth, but I still couldn’t use my hands.
As I sucked on her nipple, it became harder and bigger in my mouth, and Ginnie inhaled deeply while pushing her heavy breast further down onto my face. I sucked and sucked, and even bit firmly on her nipple, and she gasped at my bite, but didn’t retreat. Here I was all tied up essentially, not being able to use my hands, and having this wonderful, sexy, older woman jerking me off and asking me to suck on her tits. Incredible. Unbelievable. My mind wandered at this image for a moment, fortunately so to stave off my coming. Because I didn’t want to end this too soon.
“That feels good for me too love,” Ginnie said rather breathlessly.
I wanted to return some of the pleasure and special treatment she was giving me. It was the least I could do. Alas, chivalry is not dead yet.
She continued to stroke me a little slower fortunately, and I was still close to coming. She switched sides so I could suck on her other nipple, and feel it too becoming hard in my mouth. I looked up at her face and she was watching me suck on her tits, and she had a glazed look on her face, but I think it was from arousal and not so much memories this time. At least I hoped so. Or maybe she just looked down and saw the past, saw her late husband below her and she was remembering her earlier days.
It sure didn’t matter to me because I was having some memories made for myself. I really couldn’t wait much longer. I continued to suck and stimulate her nipples in my mouth, and she quickened her stroking. I savored her smell and the feel of her smooth skin against my face. I sort of groaned signaling my impending release. She reluctantly pulled away, understanding my attempt at letting her know I was going to come. She turned around and watched as my cock erupted, again spraying hot cum high into the air, up against her arm and leg that was next to me. She rather aimed me that way I think, and I couldn’t help but curl my toes and arch my hips up as I kept coming and coming as she pumped the liquid from deep inside me. Again, the weeks of inactivity stored up quite a lot, and it seemed like I came as much as yesterday, and Ginnie enjoyed the feel of my hot cum on her body and watched it run down her hand and leg. She used her free hand to rub the first stray drops into her skin.
“That felt good, I see. I love the feel of a man’s cock as he is coming. And I love the feel of his hot cum on me. It really has been too long for me too, you know love,” Ginnie said with that same sly smile on her face.
I loved hearing those words come from her mouth. She said them with a proper accent, yet the content was nice and nasty. She held me for a moment in her hands, feeling me get a little softer as she waited for me to catch my breath.
“Man Ginnie, you really must have been quite the temptress for your husband. That was more incredible than yesterday,” I managed to say finally.
“I’m glad you liked it. I think it’s quite like riding a bicycle, don’t you think? But I don’t think we should make this a regular habit. Who knows where it may lead?”
With that Ginnie rose and got another towel, and cleaned us both up before she got dressed so I could still ogle her beautiful breasts as she went about her business. And finally with a smile, she put her blouse on without her bra, retrieved it, and said her goodnight until tomorrow.
I marveled at how this woman was so incredibly sexy and how generous she was with her attention. I’m not sure what she meant about where it may lead, and I was rather disappointed that she didn’t want to make this part of the routine. But my hands actually hurt more after the orgasm, because I got caught up in the pleasure, that I can’t help but squeeze and clench my hands. Oh well, I’m not complaining. I think it is helping my hand therapy though.
The next day came and Ginnie arrived as usual in the morning, and helped with my dressings, making small talk, and being quite cheerful. I wasn’t sure if to bring up the subject about last night, but I decided on at least a recognition of the event. “Thank you so much for helping me all the time Ginnie. It really means a lot to me. And the extra treats are the best part. I’ve needed that very much,” I said as sincerely as I could.
Ginnie stopped and looked at me with a smile. “It feels good to help someone who is as appreciative as you. And you do bring back memories o my life from before. The good ones. And You sort of make me feel good too. I suppose we are rather helping eachother, wouldn’t you say?”
“I wish I could do more for you, you know. It’s sort of one-sided, if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing now. I’ve got the use of my hands, while you don’t. If you know what I mean,” she replied suggestively.
We both went about our business for the day. I did my therapy. Ginnie was off on her own. Doing her aerobics, or whatever she did. Again, I was looking forward to our evening together, hoping of course for another session, wondering what she might dream up this time. I was also wondering, with my fertile imagination, what she did last night. Did she mean that she went home and played with herself after she left me? I just let my mind play with those images for a while. Actually most of the day, but that’s just me. What else did I have to do anyhow?
So naturally, I was in a state of mild excitement all day, thinking of the last couple days, and thinking of the stunning, sexy English woman, helping me out in ways I never dreamed of. I kept replaying the images in my head, and thinking of her with her husband, and all the things she might have done with him, and she might do with me. You can’t blame a guy for hoping now, can you?
Ginnie called later in the evening, and said she would be by a little later than usual. I said not to hurry, and do what she needed to do.
About 9:00, she came by, and asked about my therapy, and told me a little about her day. Sort of spousy routine we had by now, telling eachother a little about our days. Downloading the day, as they say.
She then said it was time for the bath, and helped me undress in my bedroom, this time not even bothering with the towel. “I guess we don’t really need this anymore, now do we?” Ginnie said with obvious pleasure. “It’s not like I haven’t seen this before,” she said as she patted my hard-on. “It never ceases to amaze me how men can get so excited so easily. You sure are a lot like my John was. Insatiable I often said.”
“I can’t help it. I just can’t help but think of you and how sexy you are.”
“You’re too kind. I’ll get you cleaned up then.” She disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a warm washcloth, and the pan of water. She did her routine smiling, and not changing much else, except not hesitating at brushing my cock every once in a while. I wasn’t sure if was accidental, or if she just enjoyed her skill at raising my level of arousal. I think the latter.
She had me roll on my side away from her to clean my back and reached up between my legs, squeezing my balls playfully as she cleaned. She rolled me back on my back and wrapped the warm washcloth around my hard cock, doing her best to wash me up, but only succeeding in making me harder, if that was possible.
“You’re really quite impossible you know. You know I just can’t leave you in this condition, don’t you?” she said.
“I can’t hide my pleasure, and I am certainly glad you feel that way.”
“You know, I have confession to make,” Ginnie said rather hesitatingly. “You know you said last night you wish it was not so one sided?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you made me quite excited too, you know. I used to enjoy our sex life together rather a lot. I didn’t realize how much I was holding all those feelings in. Making you all hot and bothered did the same for me. I sort of took matters in my own hands, as they say. I have the use of my hands, remember?”
She seemed embarrassed at her confession. I guess she felt like sharing her feelings with me, and I sort of liked having her confirm what I was thinking all day, that she went home and masturbated for herself.
“You mean you went home and played with yourself?” I asked, with feigned surprise.
“Yes, that’s right. It had been too long. I didn’t forget, though.”
“How long had it been for you, then?”
“Too long. I’m not even sure I remember. But anyway, thank you back. “You rather helped in that regard, you know.”
“I’m glad I could be of service,” I said with chivalry.
“Ever the gentleman. Well, I suppose, you would like your treat again today? How shall we make it today? Something different, perhaps?”
“Whatever you do is just fine, Ginnie. I’ve been thinking about you most of the day. So I really have no special requests. I am at your mercy, quite literally>”
“Well, I believe you liked it better with the top off, then, didn’t you.”
“Yes,” I replied, without hesitating a moment.
She stood up and slowly remover her shirt, pulling it over her head, and letting my eyes fill with the sight of her breasts that spilled free, unencumbered by a bra.
“I rather thought it might come to this. I didn’t think I would need the bra after all. Do you like my tits, then love?”
“I think that’s a rhetorical question. But I’ll answer it anyway. You have marvelous breasts, Ginnie. I could look at them all day. I certainly liked the way they felt and tasted yesterday too.”
“I guess a woman never tires of hearing those words, especially from a nude man 20 years her junior. It’s flattering to me I can still make you excited.”
“Oh yes you do. You do very much.”
With that, she sat down next to me and began lightly stroking my cock up and down, scratching at my balls, and stroking the underside. She teasingly caressed and played with my hard shaft until I was beside myself with pleasure. It didn’t take long, but I just looked down at her hand on me, and took a deep breath.
Ginnie turned around so she was sitting at my side facing me, and again leaned her breasts to my face so I could suck on her as she stroked me. She grasped my cock firmly in her hands as my lips clamped down on her nipple, and let out a deep breath as I sucked on her. She started stroking me with firm, deliberate strokes, looking down at her breasts in my mouth.
“That feels lovely,” she said to me with a smile.
“Ummph,” was all I could manage with a mouthful of her delicious tit in my lips.
She kept up her hand job on me and I could feel that familiar feel of approaching orgasm as she pumped away at me. She burried my face between her tits, and I inhaled her perfume.
“Well, what shall we make so today is different? We don’t want to have you bored now, do we?”
“I am anything but bored. I am going to come very soon though. Your hand feels so good, and your breasts are exquisite. Perhaps you had better slow down, though,” I said with my face still between her luscious mounds.
She sat up a little, taking her tits away from my face. “I think I know. But it’s been a long time for this too. Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything, alright?”
With that, she bend forward the other way and took the tip of my cock in her mouth, and just held me there, allowing me to soak up the sensation of being in her hot, wet mouth. I was quite surprised. While this scenario was part of my daydreams, I really didn’t think she would take my cock into her mouth. I felt her run her tongue around and around the head of my cock and her hand pumped slowly at the firm shaft.
“Oh God, Ginnie, that feels incredible,” I managed to gasp. I had to hold my breath and not come yet. It was very close though.
While she was sucking on me, I saw her skirt ride up higher on her legs, allowing me a view of her panties, and saw they were quite wet. I could smell her arousal, and I hoped she was getting excited by this too. She took me a little deeper into her mouth, and bit gently at my cock. I just moaned. I was desperate to use my hands to touch her, but I was still basically tied up. No hands.
I leaned a little toward her so she could suck more of me into her mouth, and so I could look up her short dress better too. Both worked. She took me even deeper into her mouth and sucked harder, and I could easily see her pussy, covered by quite wet panties of white silk.
I couldn’t hold back any longer, and I started coming. I fully expected Ginnie to pull away and not let me come in her mouth. But she kept me deep in her mouth as I pumped and pumped my cum into her. She stroked me with her hand, and milked me in time with the quivering of my cock and suck me until I stopped shooting cum in her mouth.
She sat up and looked at me, and licked her lips while looking in my eyes. “I guess things haven’t changed, then. Felt good, love?”
I just nodded my head, as I could not yet manage a reply.
“I rather forgot how good it feels to have a man come in my mouth. I’ll bet you didn’t think I would do that, did you? You probably thought that us proper Brits didn’t do that sort of thing. Well, that is something I sure used to enjoy with my late John.”
I just nodded my head again, not managing a reply just yet.
“Well now, that was different wasn’t it?”
Nod, nod.
“I think that there’s something to take care of still though. One hand still held onto my hard dick, and her free hand started rubbing her pussy through her underwear. I could see her excitement too, and she kept looking at me as I watched her rub herself.
“I am going to do something not quite ladylike. I think you’ll understand, though.”
She stood up, pulled down her skirt and panties with one quick motion, and climbed on top of me. I watched as her hand guided my still-hard cock into her very wet pussy. With one motion she sank down on me all the way until I was burried deep inside her. She was so wet, it happened so fast.
She looked at me and just sighed. It was more than a sigh. It was a sigh of relief, of longing, of pleasure. Her face told it all. I knew how she felt. It had been a long time since she masturbated, then it had surely been longer since she had a hard cock inside her.
“Oh my. That feels wonderful. I just had to, love. I couldn’t go home alone, thinking about your hard cock, and not have it inside me tonight. Oh yes, I noticed how you still stayed hard after the last two times. It’s been so long, so very long since I have had a hard cock inside me. It feels so good. Youth is a wonderful thing.”
She began rocking back and forth, grinding her pelvis against mine, keeping me deep inside her. Her tits were swaying back and forth in time with her rocking motions. I looked up longingly at her tits, and she say forward, placing her hands on either side of me, letting her tits again to my mouth. I eagerly sucked her nipple in my mouth, and bit firmly on its hardness, running my tongue in circles around it.
I couldn’t believe how sensual she was. Talking like this, jumping up and fucking me, letting me come in her mouth. I sort of hoped my hands wouldn’t heal too quickly.
She started moving up and down on me, rubbing her clit on my pelvis with each downstroke.
“Oh yes. This is what I need. This is great. I love your hard cock inside me. I don’t think this is going to take long for me either,” said my English sexpot.
She fucked harder and faster, and I did my best to keep her tit against my lips, which wasn’t too difficult because she was pushing it deep into my mouth. I felt her getting wetter and wetter as she fuck me, climbing towards her release. I felt her nipple harden more, and she cried out in orgasm, clenching my cock in her wet pussy.
That brought me over the edge too, shooting another load of cum into her. I dried out too, but softer because my cries were muffled by her beautiful breasts in my mouth. Her orgasm went on and on and she kept rocking her hips prolonging her climax, or giving her another second on right after. I kept feeling her pussy squeezing my cock with the spasms of her orgasm, and I arched my hips up to her with my orgasm, trying to shoot deeper and deeper inside her.
A few minutes passed, and we both caught our breath. My cock softened, but did not slide out of her yet. She kept pressed down against me, not letting me go.
“Oh my. That was incredible. I needed that so bad. I hope you don’t think ill of me for taking advantage of you like that,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
“Don’t think anything of it. Don’t forget, always happy to help a lady in need.”