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They Love Each Other

Category: Mature
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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, 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 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. 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.

“Oh, my God.” she said, panting.

Rubbing my cock absentmindedly, I agreed.

“Feeling good?”

“Oh, Sam, I am so turned on! Is this what you were looking for? I don’t know if I can stand it. When I agreed to this week I thought it would be just about pleasuring you, that I’d approach it like a job, but I forgot about this part.”

“It’s been a long time, Honey, but this gives me the greatest pleasure of all. To see you full of joyful pleasure? This part of you is what I’ve been yearning for, and now not only have you retrieved it, but you’ve gone a little farther. The dildo. . .Wow. I really can’t believe it. Incredible.”

Somehow, she blushed an even deeper shade of red despite the orgasmic flush still shining on her face. “I don’t believe it either. I guess I just wanted it, and I know that you wanted it. It’s not going to be a regular part of our sex, but I will say I like the way I feel now.”

“Of course. I know you. Can I ask you not to make that decision today?”

“OK, I guess. Gotta let you down easy.”

“Easy, huh? We’ll see about that.”

I was not feeling easy. I lifted her leg and sat down on the ottoman, laying the leg across mine so she was forced wide open. I touched her. She looked at me with an almost feral expression, wetting her fingers, rubbing her stiff, sensitive nipples with a circular motion. Her eyes closed and mouth dropped open as an obvious wave of pleasure rolled through her body. I picked up the dildo and slipped it into her, slowly but inexorably inserting it to its full depth while rubbing her clit with my thumb. She shuddered and came almost immediately.

“Oh God, I just came again. Oh God, Oh God. Shit. Stop for a minute, I really need a break!”

I relented a bit, taking my only hand away, but still using the warm plastic cock. “I still have you as I want you for a few more days, and this is exactly where I want you to be. Right here in this actual moment. Naked and cumming.”

“Well, that’s what I am, but you can have me only if I don’t cum myself to death first. I’m 62 years old and cumming like a teenager!”

I smiled at her. “The stories you’ve told me about your teenage sex didn’t seem to be that much about pleasure, although I heard pleasure when you fucked Johnny what’s-his-name in the top of the bunk bed I was sleeping in the bottom of.”

“God, did I really do that? That is really embarrassing! At least he was my boyfriend. And I wasn’t a teenager then, anyway.”

“Well, we were kids, anyway. I don’t remember you cumming uncontrollably until we were well into our marriage. We both carried so much tension, our lovemaking was like a wrestling match. I think it was those trips we took to Hawaii in our forties and fifties when you were most freely orgasmic. Ever since then one of my images of you is this quivering ball of orgasm. Kind of like now, actually.”

I had continued to slide the dildo gently in and out, and her hips moved in response, accommodating the serial invasions. I could see memories playing out in her eyes. Her fingers slowly began to move, seemingly involuntarily, over her nipples. I exulted.

“Remember getting naked on the beach? You were so wide open. Remember?”

A small gasp escaped her mouth.

“Yes, the wind was blowing up inside me, like I was being fucked by the ocean. Unnh, just like that.”

I pushed the dildo way up inside her. She groaned again, her body quivered. “And that time after dinner, I got you completely naked right there on the lounges in front of the hotel? I barely slipped a finger inside you and you just started cumming and cumming.”

She was fucking herself against the dildo, pumping in and out, but still could say, “Yes, and then someone starting coming over and we barely got my clothes back on!”

I laughed. “Then we went upstairs and I fucked you in the dark, out on the balcony.”

She reached her arms out to me. “Please take this thing out and come fuck me now.”

How could a man say no to that? So I did, enveloping her with my arms, lifting up her legs so she could wrap them around my back, pumping in and out, looking deeply into her eyes as we kissed for an eternity. I was not going to cum, but I stayed hard and was still pumping away ten minutes later when I said, “We probably should think about going if we want to beat the traffic.”

She smiled. “OK boss, it’s your week!”

Joan went to shower. I peeled the drenched towels off the chair and threw them in the laundry. Following her into the bathroom, I sat on the counter and watched her; even washing herself she was highly turned on, lightly coming with each touch.

“Oh God, this is going to be some day. Please get out of here, it turns me on too much to have you watching me!”

“Well, right, Joanie, that’s the plan! Keep it up!” but I took pity on her, got dressed, and took our bags down to the garage and put them the car. And a few towels.

She appeared a few minutes later dressed in a white denim miniskirt, very short, a thin, plain cotton camisole top that clung to her breasts and hard nipples, and sandals. She was panting.

“Fuck, I had another orgasm just walking down the stairs!” she said, to no one in particular.

“Great choice of outfit,” I said. Click! “Touch your breasts?”

“Please, Sam, no, please let me get out of the house!”

“One shot, Joan, OK?”

She put her hands under her breasts, lifting them towards me and squeezing her nipples. Click! She came immediately, her face scrunching up as the pleasure poured through her body. Click!

“Put one hand down your skirt.”

Her right hand stayed with her nipple and she snaked her left down inside her skirt, even while complaining, “I thought you said one shot!”

“Oh, OK. Two. See?” I clicked one more time and put the camera into the car.

She extracted her hand, remarking, “Gosh, your self control is amazing.”

“Yes, well, Mr. Discipline, that’s me! A veritable paragon of rectitude!”

We got into the car. I was bubbling over. She was a bit shell shocked. We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge and through the Waldo tunnel. I kept sneaking glances at her. Her nipples were hard as stones, pushing against the thin cotton of her chemise. Her legs were slightly spread, the skirt absentmindedly hiked up almost all the way to her crotch. Her hands were sitting in her lap, sensuously rubbing each other.

“Joan, you look so beautiful.”

“Thanks, I don’t know that beautiful is how I feel, I actually feel kind of disconnected from my familiar self. I can’t believe how turned on I am! I’ve been cumming nonstop all morning.”

Music to my ears. My precise intention. Don’t screw it up, Sam. “You are welcome to resume touching yourself if you want to.”

She looked at me. “OK. I hope that’s a good idea.”

It was. She pulled the skirt all the way up, baring herself completely. She reclined the seat and pleasured herself for the whole hour and a half, finger fucking, rubbing, touching–she was off the wall. I was mesmerized. I didn’t feel turned on, per se, as I really couldn’t have done anything about it, but the power of her pleasure was very intense. Once we got off the freeway and onto the two lane Mark West Springs Road, at my request she abandoned her top entirely, throwing it into the back seat, and really got into it, dressed only in a seat belt and a tiny skirt bunched around her waist, naked and cumming. We were about twenty minutes out. I took my Viagra. Time passed.

“Joan, we’re coming into town.”

“Oh? What do I need to do?” She shook her head a little, came back a bit into the world.

“Here, you could drape this over yourself if you want to.”

I handed her a towel.

The cottages have their own parking lot. I pulled around the corner and parked, leaving her there, naked under the towel, and went inside to register. We were staying in one of the cute private cottages of the Mount View Hotel. Each cottage had a single large room with a big bed, a small sitting area, a kitchenette with a tiny table barely big enough for two, and a pretty luxurious bathroom: The best feature, though, is the large private outdoor patio with nice landscaping, two big overstuffed chairs with removable pads, and a private hot tub. Taking a pad off the chair forms a nice twin size bed for extended outdoor activity.

When I came back out after registering, she was still hidden under the towel. “Let’s go, honey.”

“Shouldn’t I put my top on?”

“Just use the towel, Joan.”

She gave me a somewhat exasperated look, but there was another look underneath. Hungry. She shrugged. “Tell me when the coast is clear.”

As soon as the patio gate closed, I pulled on the towel and it was on the ground. Her skirt immediately followed. I dropped the bags right at the gate. She turned to me and peeled off my shirt.

“Did you take your Viagra yet?”

“Yes,” I said, “in Santa Rosa. It should be coming on real soon.”

“And how long do I have to keep you going?”

“We’ll see. Usually at home I’m still hard when you’re done, so we’ll have to find out!”

Fortunately the spirit of experimentation was strong, and the scientific method prevailed. It was close to four hours, and I did not call the doctor. We fucked outside, right there in the private patio, on those thick cushions that so conveniently were easily removable from the seating. Outdoor sex really ignites her. We fucked standing up, sitting down, front to back, back to front, doggie, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl and some positions that we probably just invented. I licked and fucked her with my tongue until she was absolutely overflowing. She sucked me on my back, on her knees, in the chair. We 69’ed on the mat and standing up, with me holding her upside down. I fucked her face. She rubbed her cunt all over my arms, my face and neck and anywhere else she could get a purchase. She came in gallons. We both were covered in her come. When I finally exploded it was pretty big for an old guy. I made sure to do it in her mouth, for the first time in probably fifteen or twenty years. Years!

When it was over, we crawled over and into the hot tub while it filled. We sat quietly together, my arm around her shoulders, her hand sitting comfortably on my leg.

“Yikes,” I said. “I mean, I expected to have a lot of sex, but having that in us? It’s so powerful. I love you so much, and to have it expressed like that, after all these years.”

She said, “Like I’ve been saying all day, I have no idea where that came from. I’m exhausted, but contented. And I don’t think I’ve ever swallowed your cum before.”

“Not for a long time, at any rate.” I think I remember every time she swallowed my cum, and it actually was a goodly number of times, but who was I to disagree?

We sat there for a long time before going to dinner at Cafe for All Seasons, to which she wore only a long thin sleeveless silk dress that showed her body whenever she got between me and a light. It felt like we were in disguise. Who knew that these relatively nondescript, aging people were actually the hottest fucks in town?

DAY FOUR. The fourth morning dawned bright and sunny. Although it was pretty early for Joan, I lubricated my morning wood, nestled up behind her and softly slipped inside. She tried hard to stay asleep, and after a while I took pity on her, allowing my cock to diminish and draw itself out of her. Leaving her in bed, I started the coffee, drew on a pair of shorts and a t shirt and went out for the newspaper. Walking the streets in my bemused and vulnerable state, I tried to do some Viagra math; it works best for me if there is 24 hours between doses, plus you need a minimum of 3 hours between eating and a dose. Didn’t have to do this when I was young! Let’s see, we have a dinner reservation at 7, so we eat a late breakfast at ten and no lunch, it’ll be a substantial breakfast, so I could take it around two just to be safe, and then we could fuck from three to six or so, that means we need to fit in the spa treatments after breakfast, and we want to take a hike, too . . . Hmm. Who knew aging could be so complicated.

I closed the patio gate behind me and dropped my clothes right there. Joan was sitting up in bed, coffee in hand, sheet at her waist, bare from the waist up, flipping through a magazine. Hmm, she’s up early. Might have to change the schedule. I got my coffee.



“I didn’t expect to see you awake so early.”

“Excuse me,” she snorted, but I swear I was just getting fucked. Even I can’t sleep through that. I assumed it was you who was doing the fucking, I hope I wasn’t wrong. That is your big fantasy, right?”

I put my coffee down on the night table and got on the bed. I took her hands and looked her right in the eye.

“Yes, it is, you taking on me and a couple other guys. That’s one thing I would never surprise you with, Joan, if you give me that you need to be a totally willing, committed and aware participant. So yes, it was me who fucked you this morning.” I gently cupped her breast; her nipple got hard immediately. “Kind of looks like it turned you on a bit, eh?”

She blushed. It was so charming!

“Well, maybe a little. I may still have some charge left over from yesterday.”

“I was making plans for today, want to go for treatments around 1 or so?”

“Sure, I guess, although I don’t know what you have in store for me today! I hope I don’t to have to do anything too weird.”

“No, today is going to be pretty normal. Maybe even restful. Tomorrow you’ll probably think is weird. Today, anyway, we’ll make love in the afternoon.”

“So what should I think about now?”

“Don’t think. Just suck cock.”

She lifted an eyebrow, saying “Well, that was sensitive and empathetic!”

But when I stretched out for the phone she captured my cock right between her lips, working me in and out, titillating me, making me hard and forcing me to work hard to maintain as I called first the spa, then the restaurant, then the front desk to have the continental breakfast delivered. By the time it arrived she had moved me down and was jacking me off with one hand and touching herself with the other.

“I’m going to get the door, Joan.”

“OK. Do I have to stop?”

“No, I’ll take the tray at the gate. You don’t even have to be covered up.”

And just to be sure I took the sheet, wrapping it around me as I got off the bed.

“OK.” a groan escaped her lips as she was completely naked to the day once again, legs spread and one finger making light circles on her clit. I put the tray on the table and came back to watch. Eventually, she stopped.

By the time we finished breakfast it was close to 11, the temperature was above ninety, and we decided to take a little walk before heading to the spa for our treatments. I asked Joan to dress in very short spandex yoga shorts and a bikini top with a loose tank top over it. Hand in hand, we took a slow walk up past the school to the geyser and back, through a neighborhood of small unassuming homes.

We’ve been taking treatments at this spa for nearly forty years, and there is a time honored process; 15 minutes in the mud bath, 20 minutes in the hydro bath, five minutes in the steam room and a 20 minute blanket sweat before a massage. We arrived a few minutes early. We checked in. Men and women go to separate facilities at this spa. I put an arm around her as we sat on the couch, waiting for our respective attendants.

I asked her, “So how are you feeling?”

“It’s hard to imagine getting a treatment now, I’m already a wet noodle after all the orgasms! And you’re going to want me to put out this afternoon, too? I may have to take a nap instead.”

“Well, Joan, whatever happens will be great. I suspect that once I start touching you later you may find appropriate motivation, but if we end up sleeping through a Viagra dose window, so be it. You have already done so much for me over the past couple of days, I feel honored, respected and well-fucked, too. That you would agree to go into these places of my dream with me, so openly and with such a complete commitment is really humbling and very meaningful. And while we’re talking fantasy, here is the one I have for now. I want you to touch yourself in the tub and the blanket; if you can cum before your massage I want to hear all about it.”

“Jeez, are you for real? I’m not going to do that!”

“Well, you will or you won’t, that’s not anything I can control, but at least you know that I want you to.”

“What, you probably want me to fuck the masseur, too!”

“No, I don’t want you to fuck the masseur, but if you do you have to at least tell me about it. I can’t imagine you being so out of control that you’d do that, but if I want you to be cumming in the blanket sweat I guess I have to be open to the possibility that it could happen.”

“Now you are being ridiculous. I’m still sore from yesterday, you’re going to fuck my brains out with your chemically enhanced hard on when we get back to the cottage, I need some other cock like a hole in the head.”

On that note, we went in. I finished a bit before her. When she came out later, she was looking incredible. Relaxed and beautiful. Even though she had the same sort-of-clothes on, she had put on a little makeup and added a small diamond necklace. Each wrinkle was glowing. I stood, and holding her hand walked out into the hot, hot afternoon.

“Wow. You look fantastic. I am a lucky man. Have a good one?”

“I sure did. I tried to do what you asked. It was too stupid to do in the tub, I just had to let it all go. I did touch myself in the blanket sweat. I kept my hand there the whole time, but I kept drifting off, forgetting to rub. It takes a lot of concentration to be that slutty, and mine was elsewhere. And the masseur was a masseuse, so you struck out on all counts. How about you? You cum in the tub?”

I laughed. “No, Joan, I couldn’t even get hard, even though I spent pretty much the entire time visualizing your mouth on my cock. I think I’ve uncovered a new principle: My ability to get off on fantasy shrinks in reverse proportion to the frequency of blowjobs I receive.”

She blushed.

“Well, I’ve certainly been giving you a lot of blowjobs.”

A shiver went up my spine.

“Say that again.”

She stopped us in the middle of the parking lot, looking at me like I was a misbehaving child. She pulled me between a couple of cars, unzipped my shorts and started jerking me off.

“I’ve. Certainly. Been. Giving. You. A. Lot. Of. Blowjobs” she jerked me off mercilessly and whispered in my ear, “Blowjobs. Blowjobs. Blowjobs. I’m you’re cocksucking, dick licking queen of blowjobs. Yesterday I swallowed your cum. I’m a cum swallowing, cock sucking, blowjob machine. For three more days. I’ll wear you out!” She squatted down and gave me a couple of quick, deep sucks right there, then stood up, looked at me and stuck two fingers in her mouth, moving them in and out obscenely.

I was totally embarrassed, completely ashamed, and insanely satisfied.

“I, I…” I could barely get the words out.

“Oh, poor baby, cock got your tongue? C’mon. Let’s go see if we can fix that.”

We walked back out into the street. Remember, this is a 62 year old woman, albeit trim and good looking, dressed in skintight spandex, dragging me by the hand right across Main Street. We got back to the cottage and as the gate closed she slipped right out of her top, her breasts dangling in the summer air.

“OK, Sam. Half naked again. Should I do my mouth exercises?”

“Not quite yet. Put on this bikini, let’s go sit by the pool until the Viagra starts coming on.”

“Wow, I’m standing here half naked and you want me to put clothes on? That’s a surprise!”

“Well, I don’t know that I’d call this bikini “clothes,” actually–it is pretty skimpy.” I held it up for her inspection. One of those tan-through models.

“Jesus, are you really asking me to wear that? In public?”

“It’s really just for me, you know. We’ll find a place where you’re behind a table or something.”

It was really skimpy, and truthfully, she really didn’t look very good in it, she was sort of dripping out of it on all sides, as brief as it was, but she was a trouper and did it anyway.


She lucked out, because we were alone in our corner of the pool deck, so when she slicked off her cover-up after a last objection, I was the only audience. And we were alone enough that I could feel her up. She liked it. Got the suit so wet it turned transparent. Turnabout being fair play, she gave my cock a couple of test rubs through my speedo and it responded well, poking out of the top, stiff as a board.

She looked around, looked at me, leaned over and gave the glans a couple quick licks.

“Time to go back, eh?”

It was. The private patio was pleasantly shady, she took off the cover-up but kept the suit on and we sat down in chairs opposite each other. I slid my suit off.

“So what is this, Sam, do you want to watch me again?”

“Yes, for a while.”

“OK. Tell me exactly what you want me to do. This?” She slid her hand inside the suit and began circling a finer on her clit.

“Yes, that good. Pull the suit to the side, now stick a couple of fingers of your other hand inside.”

This went on for a bit. She began panting, giving out little mewling sounds. I licked my fingers and rubbed my cock slowly up and down. It was quite large. The rest of the afternoon passed in a delightful slow paced haze. I knelt before her and worshiped her clit, taking a face full of her fluids, then fucked her right there, outdoors in the chair, ultimately flipping her over and pulling her hips back against my thrusting pelvis, getting as deeply inside her as I ever could remember (and I have a pretty good memory for this sort of thing). Ah, the miracles of modern medicine! After I shot my wad I was still hard, so I returned to my chair and asked her to come and suck me for a while. She tried, bravely, but I soon gave her a pass. She was cooked, and retired from the battlefield. We stumbled to the bed and collapsed, staying awake just long enough to get my still hard cock inside her before falling out.

We eventually woke up and drove to St. Helena for dinner that evening. She wore her old black miniskirt that buttoned up the front, and a simple, sheer white lace top over the one bra that I let her bring. She had to make a deal with me though, in order to wear the bra to dinner she had to strip naked in the car for the nighttime ride back to Calistoga. When the time came, I had her remove her clothes standing next the car, having parked in an isolated corner of the parking lot, and hand them to me before she got into the car.

She didn’t bother to dress on the walk to the patio gate, protected by the darkness and an erotic invincibility, and we stumbled into bed and fell immediately asleep in each other’s arms.

DAY FIVE. And it was evening and it was morning, the fifth day. I kept my hands off. We had spa treatments at ten am, and then went for lunch on the street. Back in the cottage we lay together, naked on the bed, and drifted off to sleep. I woke up about three. I took the Viagra. She was sitting up, leafing through a travel magazine.

“So didn’t you say I thought today would be weird? I guess this was weird. Most of the day has gone by and you haven’t even touched me!”

“Well, Joan, I’m about to make up for it now. I want to do a Sam and Joan Kama Sutra.” As I talked to her I was unlimbering the tripod and setting up a light. “It’s gonna be weird because we’re going to need to pose. It won’t be making love in an unbridled way, but in a restrained way. I’m going to want to get a few different angles of each position.”

And we spent the next three hours working through a series of poses. We started with a series of missionary poses; first I set the camera up to our profile. I shot us in six different poses, with her legs ranging from flat on the bed to wrapped over my shoulders, and with me lying on her or lifted up on my arms. I then moved the camera so it was at bed height, looking up our asses, and ran through the same sequence of poses again. Finally, I extended the tripod to its full height, shooting us from the top so her face was in the shot, and ran through the set a third time. And we proceeded through the poses.

We did a set front to back, lying on our sides.

We did a set side by side with her leg lifted.

We did a set with her on top, facing me, and a set with her facing away, both on her knees and on her feet, suspended over me. We did some reverse cowgirl with us in a chair and on a couch, her legs spread, cock inserted, my hands on her breasts.

We did many variations of doggie, her lying, her kneeling, on her haunches, supported with pillows or with her arms against the wall.

The standing poses we did outside.

The whole thing necessitated my going in and out of her dozens of times; set up a shot, get in and take it, withdraw, set up the next one. It was a strange rhythm, but it started to develop its own sense, and we both got more and more turned on as the afternoon progressed.

We went back inside and did several 69ing poses, me on top, her on top, side to side.

Then we did a blowjob series: on her knees with me sitting and standing, me lying down with her lying next to me, kneeling over me, and then reversed so her cunt was open to the camera, filled with my fingers, while her mouth was filled with cock. Then we did several a few of me licking her.

“Now let’s do a series with you alone.”

“Oh, I can’t, please, not now. I’m tired, this is hard work. And I really want you to fuck me, too.”

“Well, I don’t know, it really a part of the Kama Sutra thing here, I’d really like to, and look how excited you are!”

“Sam, I am turned on, but just come fuck me now, please, I need a break from this posing. I promise you I’ll do it tomorrow, you can take a million photos of me masturbating, however you want me to, but please, can we stop now? Come and fuck me.”

“A million? However I want to OK! I’ll do just one more thing special for me now.”

“Oh shit. What did I just promise?”

My cock sliding into her shut her up. Her words, at least. She rolled on top and energetically fucked me, riding my cock intensely. I wanted to cum on her face and so I rolled her over, fucked for a while then pulled out and set her up for the ‘money shot,’ getting shots of her messy, and messy with a mouthful of cock.

She fell asleep, but I was way too excited. I took a couple shots of her sleeping naked, then covered her with a sheet, downloaded the photos and started selecting. I had well over 400 shots. Some of them were pretty erotic, some were just blatant pornography, some were sort of clinical, illustrating fine gynecological detail, but they all were incredible. The most erotic ones were actually among the least explicit, when the passion in her face was visible. But I really appreciated the explicit ones! Seeing my cock in her mouth as she stared right at the camera. . .wow. wow! The best 100 have made a very nice DVD, I eventually put it to some Indian music with nice tasteful fades, and the Indian name of the sexual position on the bottom of the screen, of which I gave her the only copy. Would she ever view it? I don’t know, and I may never know.

She slept for about an hour, slowly waking up. I made her some coffee.

“Well, you’re right. That was weird. And hard work! I’m hungry. Where are we having dinner?”


“Oh good. What do you want me to wear?”

“You know. As little as possible!”

She rolled her eyes at me but laid out the black mini and a sleeveless, semi-sheer white top. She took a shower and did her makeup and jewlery, then came out naked. when she put the skirt, which was still completely unbuttoned from the night before, I told her to stop after she had buttoned the waistband. It hung completely open.

“Are you really going to parade me around like this?”

“no, Joanie, Only for the drive. You can button it up before we leave the car.”

She made a sound that was something between a snort and a laugh.

“How generous! Sam, your thoughtfulness is exceeded only by your perversity.”

She stood there, naked from the waist up, with the skirt open over one leg, just revealing the pubic hair.

“Now that we’re into it, though, I have to say your desires are kind of vanilla. Nudity, masturbation, photography, blowjobs; not very radical!”

“Joan, I never claimed to be any kind of a radical pervert, just an ordinary man with passionate desires. Maybe its your resistance that invented my perversity! All I’ve wanted is to openly share my sexual passions with you and have you care about it. This is all stuff we’ve done before, just layered on a bit thickly!”

“Well, that’s true. I have to admit I’m enjoying most of it, although this last bit was work. We never did that before, with the posing. What about the top? I suppose you want me to leave it open, too?”

“How about leaving it off?”

“Please don’t ask me do that. The sun is still out, anyone who looks in would see me. . .”

“Not really. It’s just a two lane road, my car sits up a bit, and the drivers in the other direction are busy driving, not gawking at old naked ladies.”

“Damn. Shit. OK.”

She put the top on, unbuttoned, holding it closed as we headed out to car, but once we we drove out onto the highway she slipped it off.

“Here you go, Sam. Am i slutty enough for you?”

That didn’t really deserve an answer (It was yes). She lifted her arms up and wrapped them around the headrest, thrusting her chest out proudly, then opened her legs wider so the skirt fell open, revealing everything else to me; she was essentially naked as we drove down Highway 29. I took her left hand and put it between her legs; she rather absentmindedly twiddled her clit, just maintaining a lower level of sexual awareness. I would occasionally reach over and tweak a nipple, but mostly I let her set the tone. I unzipped my pants and took my cock out, rubbing it a bit as she got more turned on.

We came into St. Helena. She used the top to shield her breasts from the pedestrians as we progressed through the town’s traffic lights, but as we picked up speed on the other side of town she put it aside again, returning her hand between her legs with a bit more enthusiasm, picking up the rhythm a bit. I looked over for a moment and saw a couple of fingers disappear inside her cunt.

“Tell me what you’re doing, Joan.”

She was breathing a bit harder. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m stark naked and fucking myself with two fingers in the car on a public roadway. I’m turned on, but I must be making a complete fool of myself!”

“Oh Honey, you are far from a fool as I could possibly imagine. Anyway, it’s only me here. Nobody knows or cares except us.”

Her breath caught a bit. “Well, I just came a little. Where are we?”

“Coming into town. You should maybe get dressed.”

She put the top on, buttoning it up as I pulled into a parking space, but instead of doing up the skirt she got her hand good and wet, taking my cock in it and rubbing vigorously.

“I thought you were worried about doing this in public,” I said.

“Oh, for crying out loud. I just drove down here naked and masturbating, and even now I’m spread and soaking wet. I don’t have a leg to stand on! I just want get even.” she leaned over and gave me a good sucking until I was real hard, leaving me sitting there with a hard cock flapping about.

“C’mon Sam, get that cock out of the car!”

She laughed at me as she did up her skirt and got out. I pulled myself together and joined her, checking her out in the low light of an early evening sun. It was obvious she was not wearing a bra, as you could see her boobs sagging, but you couldn’t see them through the shirt. Her face was flushed, her hair a bit mussed up, but full around her head. I offered her my arm as we headed inside.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so fuckable, Joan.”

“Well thanks, but you must be in some kind of sexual haze. I sure am. I must have looked better when we were kids.”

“Maybe you had fewer wrinkles and shinier skin, but I couldn’t see below that then. Now, I see all of you, and I’m telling you, you could have your pick of the men in this place!”

We got seated.

“I have the man I want, and I hope this week is giving you everything you want from it. It’s fun, for sure, but I still can’t quite understand what turns you on about this. Is it just that I’m submitting to you, doing what you ask me to?”

“Yes, Joan, I suppose so. I hesitate to call it submitting, it feels a lot more cooperative than that, but I am very gratified that you are letting me possess you. You are my woman, and your acting like this plugs right into both my passion and my psychology. This fulfills every sexual dream I’ve had since the last time we did one of these weeks.”

We took a short walk after dinner; when we got back to the car, I unlocked the door for her and walked around to my side.

“Wait a sec, Sam.”

Something came flying cross the top of the car to me; it was her top, which soon was joined by her skirt. I got into the car with my naked wife, who already had two fingers in her cunt.

“Here you go, Sam. A little take-out!”

“Wow, Joan, Thanks. I know I’m saying this a lot, but wow.”

She looked at me. “Y’know, I thought about asking you, but what would be the point? Like I don’t know what you want by now? I’m glad it’s dark outside, and that we just have a couple days to go, ’cause I am not going to be able to sustain this for much longer. It’s starting to feel kind of silly, kind of beside the point of our marriage.”

“Sex is not beside the point of our marriage, although I admit that having you perform like this stretches the boundaries a bit, but you have me on complete cloud nine. I hope that making me so happy means a lot to you. I guess I’m a man of simple tastes! Anyway, Joanie, I would be married to you if you never fucked me again, although I wouldn’t like it very much.”

“Well, that may end up being the case, ’cause you are using me up this week! Do you want me to come again now?”

“It’s up to you. I’m really happy. Do what you want to do.”

I took a right turn and drove across the valley to return to Calistoga on Silverado trail, which was a lot darker than 29 and didn’t go through any towns. She started playing with herself, then stopped.

“Wait, I have an idea. Don’t think I’ve done this yet this week. Move your seat back.”

She undid my pants and took my cock out, then leaned over and started sucking me while I drove. Gratefully accepting her attention, I drove rather sedately back to the hotel. She’d gotten me pretty hard when we got back, and when we both walked exposed back to the patio I put her on her knees in the chair and stood there fucking her until we both were falling asleep.

DAY SIX. We lay together in bed for a long time this morning, holding each other quietly. It was feeling like the week was coming to an end, not because it was the end of her promise, but because the passion was dissipating into the sea of our love. I spent a long time looking at the curve of her hip as she dozed on my shoulder, gently kissing her eyelids, her cheek. She moved her lips toward mine, and we kissed for a long, long time.


“Hi. You’re still here in bed with me. No coffee yet?”

“No, I figured maybe I could take you out for a proper breakfast this morning.”

“Wow. you’re going to waste a part of your last day? Getting old?”

“Yes, honey, I am. I think I’ve acquitted myself pretty admirably, though. I’ve fucked you a couple of times a day. And tomorrow’s the last day.”

She reached down and took my cock in her hand. “Hmm, this is as small as I’ve ever felt it, but I guess Viagra will make a difference.”

“It will. How about you?”

“Honestly, I’m sore, but it’s been that way since we got here, pretty much. That first marathon session did me in. I have to say, though, I’ve really been enjoying getting you off and getting off myself. You are having such a great time, and that is fulfilling to me. I’m sorry I held this back from you for so long, but it is pretty hard for me to do. What are you going to do to me today?”

“Well, you made me a promise yesterday, I recall”

She grimaced. “Oh, right. Well, that’ll be OK. Maybe if too much fucking doesn’t go on I’ll recover a bit for the big finale tomorrow. I assume there’s a big finale.”

“Oh yeah. We’re going to go fuck on stage at the Curran. Tickets have been going like wildfire.”

“Well, I’m drawing the line there! This little show is yours and your alone.”

“Oh, rats. I’ll cancel the Rockettes, then.”

“Very funny. So really, whats the plan?”

“Today? Breakfast, then a walk, then treatments, then some lunch, then we’ll come back here and you can give me your little show.”

“You’ve been watching me masturbate all week. What’s going to be different?”

“Costumes. Poses…Equipment.”

We both blushed. “Oh God, I forgot about that. Shit, I really got turned on the other day. It might go on all night!”

“I could handle that!”

“What about tomorrow?”

“We’ll see how it goes–I have a couple options for that, depending on you.”

“Great. I’m going to be exhausted again? And then I have to go back to work. Some vacation! So Sam, whatever I owed you from all those years of working late, the slate is definitely wiped clean, here.”

“So stipulated. Joan, the rest of this year will be dedicated to your pleasure. Whatever you want. I won’t ask you for a thing.”

“That’ll be the day. I don’t think you can hold to that one!”

“Oh, I guess you’re right, but I’ll try! But I do mean it about your pleasure. Ready for breakfast?”

We got into the shower together, just another thing that never happens at home. The hotel thoughtfully supplied dual shower heads. When she soaped up my cock, it got a little hard, but subsided almost immediately.

I let her use the bathroom after we got out of the shower, then went in myself, When I came out she was wearing the short denim skirt; the top in her hand.

“I guess I don’t put this on until we leave, huh?”

“That is so right! Or even a little bit after!” I went over and hugged her, pushing my soft cock up against her bare belly. She sat on the bed, reached out and pulled the poor little thing to her mouth. She rolled it around as it stayed soft, which seemed to really increase her enthusiasm, and her increased enthusiasm led me to get somewhat hard, but I pulled her up anyway.

“Thank you, darling. It will be hard to do without these blowjobs on demand when we get home.”

“You’ll survive. Maybe I’ll remember this feeling and do it more. It’s been good this week. No promises, though.”

“None assumed or implied.”

I opened the gate and she slipped her top on as she stepped out; cut low in the front and back with spaghetti straps. The whole outfit still revealed more skin than it covered, to my pleasure.

We had a nice big breakfast, a pleasant walk through town for a couple of hours, relaxing mud baths, and a nice simple lunch. We didn’t talk about sex at all. When we came back she was getting a bit nervous, but still game. She peeled off the top as I opened the gate to the cottage, then the skirt inside the patio and dropped naked into the chair, where I had pre-placed a towel before we left I the morning. The hot afternoon sun, shining through the branches of the trees, cast a dappled air on her body.

“OK, I guess it’s time now. What was it I agreed to do in my fever yesterday?”

“Yes, honey; I wanted to take a series of photos of you alone to add to my catalog of our sex together.”

“Not completely alone, as I recall. Didn’t you say something about equipment?”

I was embarrassed, but determined to go through with it. So often in the past I had held back from asking for what I wanted, but all the cards were on the table now.

“We’ll get there. If you’re ready, why don’t you start warming yourself up? I need you nice and orgasmic. This is going to go on for a while.”

“Warming up. What is this, a track meet?”

But she leaned back, and started to run her hands up and down her body, touching her stomach, her thighs, her breasts, moving on to concentrate more on her nipples. her other hand slipped down slowly, and she opened her legs a bit more and her finger made slow circles on her clitoris.

I got the camera and took a few warm-up shots, then began shooting for real. On the chair I posed her with her feet on the ground and legs sort of mildly open, than with her feet up on the chair and legs wide apart, then with her feet lifted in the air. In each pose I had her do one with finger on her clit, then one two and three fingers inserted, and using both hands in various ways. I had her kneel on the chair and shot her from the rear as her fingers did their work, both with her head resting on the chair back and lifted, looking back at me when I was behind, or at the camera when I shot from the side.

Though it started out a bit clinical, she slowly became more and more excited, her sex glistening, her labia filling with blood, and when I laid a pad on the deck and guided her there, she really got going.

“Joan, wow, you are gorgeous, you look so hot.”

“God, I and really turned on. Do you like it? Is it good for you?”

“It’s the greatest thing that you ever have given me. You are so hot, you are the sexiest woman alive.”

Little moans and gasps were escaping her lips and she was using both hands, fucking herself with a couple of fingers and sliding her other hand between her clit and her nipples.

It was time. I got the first piece of equipment, a little silver vibrator, turned it on and handed it to her. She looked up at me, between gasps, and asked,

“What do you want me to do with this?”

“I think you use it on your clitoris, maybe it would feel good on your nipples, too. What don’t you give it try and see?” I went and took my Viagra. When I looked back at her, all systems seemed to be go, as the vibrator lightly massaged her distended clitoris as her other hand roved from nipple to nipple. Looking up at me, she slipped the vibrator inside herself.

“Unnhhh, ahhhhhhhhh, oh, oh shit, ah.”

“Tell me how that feels, Joan.”

“Ah, ah, it’s kind of small, but the vibration is intense!” she shuddered and came again.

“Why don’t you try this one again?”

It was the very naturalistic dildo, a bit bigger that my cock. She looked up at me, i could see the faint reflection of the wife I know roll her eyes at me even while this insanely orgasmic woman laying out in the warm afternoon began robustly fucking herself.

I had never heard sounds like those being ripped out of her. Not loud, but deep, guttural, out of an ancient memory, from a time before language. She orgasmed, and keeping her rhythm with the dildo picked up the vibrator and put it on her clit. Instantly, she had a massive orgasm and collapsed, arms wide to the side, legs flat on the ground, but the dildo still firmly implanted.

She was panting, her heard was beating wildly.

“Oh god oh god oh god oh god, Are we done?”

“No. Sorry. Not quite.”

Her breathing slowed to a low roar. I reached down and tweaked her clit; her back arched involuntarily and she gave a quick gasp. I put the camera on the tripod.

She looked up at me. “Oh, it must be cocksucking time huh?” she extracted and put down the dildo.

“Soon. But there’s one more thing, first.”

I had one more piece of equipment–well, two actually, but only one for now, a long suction mounted dildo that I took and mounted on the deck. It was long, but not one of those super huge ones, about the shape of my dick. But much longer. I took a couple of folded bath towels and placed them on either side of it, then came over and took her hand, helping her sit up.

“What now?” she asked me. The she saw the scene. “Oh shit, no no no. I am not going to do that,” she said, even while getting up.

“Just step right over here, give it s try. It’s not really any different that what you were just doing with the other dildo.”

“Fuck. Fuck. OK. This is going to be the most obscene thing I have ever done, I can’t even believe it. But I am so turned on! I hope you know what you are doing. I don’t know what I’m going to think about it next week. I might hate your guts. Maybe I’ll never want your cock again.”

“I’ll take that chance. I love you. Thanks.”

The look in her eyes combined rage, desperation, passion, desire, and resignation, all in a single moment –but in the end she held my hand for support, put her knees on the towels, and lowered herself into place. She gasped a bit as the cock slowly worked its way up inside her. I took the camera in hand.

“ahhhh, ohhh, oh shit, fuck, You are an asshole. fuck, ahhh fuck.”

She began slowly fucking herself on the adamantine piece of flesh colored plastic.

“That’s it. Good, now work on your breasts, handle them, work your nipples, good. Now drop a hand to your clit.”

“Ahhh, ahhh, fuck!” She lifted a tit to her lips and sucked her own nipple. She was cursing continuously. A steady stream of liquid was coursing down the cock.

I handed her the vibrator.

“Now use this on your clit.”

The low buzzing of the vibrator was almost lost in the panting and moaning. The moan was a low, nonstop growl, forced out from the depths of her, the heat radiating of her body, her concentration totally on the moment, beyond thought and reason. The photos will not, could not show that. I went for broke.

“Here, Joan,” I said, handing her the other dildo. “Put this in your mouth.”

She looked at me with a fire in her eyes that could turn to hate, but turned instead to lust. She did it all for me, fucking the fixed one, vibrator on her clit, blowing the dildo in her mouth, staring right at me. Her fucking pace increased, a moan forced out with each lowering.

I put the camera on automatic and back on the tripod, focusing it carefully on the outrageous scene in front of me. And then I joined it.

I took over holding the dildo so she still could suck it, and put her other hand on my straining, pulsating cock. This lasted for about ten seconds, until she pushed the dildo out with her tongue, yanked me painfully to herself and swallowed my cock, saying

“The real one is much better.”

She sucked me in and out with incredible passion and power, long, long strokes, all the way in, my cock sliding down her throat in a way she didn’t even notice, while keeping her rhythm up on the unyielding rod that was now deeply inside her. I was wild.

“Oh, Jesus, you are so beautiful, oh fuck, this is insane, suck me, take me all the way in.” I started to fuck her mouth. I was clicking the remote as fast as it wold go. She stopped moving, lowering herself all the way down onto the dildo and letting me go as deep as I wanted. “I’m gonna cum, Joan. I’m gonna cum in your mouth. Take me. Take me. Don’t swallow it. Keep it in your mouth, i want to see it. Unhhh, unhhh…. Good, let me see it on your tongue… Show the camera.”

She did, then she let it dribble out of her mouth, dripping down the side of her chin. I put my spent cock across her lips. She kissed it, then took it all the way in as I took one last photo of her messy, cock-filled face.

After I came in her mouth, Joan lifted off the dildo and pretty much collapsed onto the floor.

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