Dressed in one of her husband's T-shirts and sweat pants, she was standing at the kitchen table making stuffing for the turkey for Christmas dinner. Her hands were buried wrist-deep in a mixture of mashed potatoes, bread, milk, celery, onions, and eggs, squishing it together, mixing it. The goopy mess slid between her fingers as she worked it, trying to get all of the ingredients mixed thoroughly.
"Hi," her husband said, coming up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. He nuzzled her neck and kissed her lightly. He pressed against her bottom and a tiny, wonderful tingle rippled through her belly when she felt the bulge at his crotch pressing against her butt.
"What are you doing?" she murmured. She continued to work on mixing the stuffing.
"What do you think I'm doing?" he responded, pushing against her bottom a little harder with his middle. If she wasn't mistaken, he'd gotten harder.
"I'm a mess...I...I have to get this stuffing made for dinner tomorrow," she murmured, but she felt her bottom pressing back against him.
"It isn't going to make any difference if you take a little break," he replied. "That stuff won't spoil."
"But...but I'm...I'm a mess..." she protested. This time her bottom pushed back and wriggled against his even harder bulge.
He was nuzzling her neck, caressing her with his lips and it was driving her wild, just like it always did. He'd been doing these things to her for more than four decades and it still made her feel all funny inside when he did them. The fact that he was rubbing his erection against her bottom and teasing her belly lightly with his fingers added to the sensations building inside her.
It was long past the time she was the cheerleader with the taut body and firm breasts she was when they first met, but the things he was doing to her made the reality of sagging body parts, stretch marks, gained pounds, wrinkles, and surgery scars fade into unreality. His loving touch made decades of changes in her body disappear and left only the essence, her soul, the part of her he so clearly loved and adored.
He continued nuzzling her neck, brushing his lips over her skin so lightly she wasn't sure if she was really feeling his touch or was just imagining she was. It didn't really matter, it felt incredibly good either way. He slid his hands back and began running his fingers lightly up and down her bare arms, raising goose bumps, making her shudder and gasp.
"God, how do you do that?" she murmured.
"Do what?" he asked.
"Touch me so lightly."
"I don't know, I just do. I take it you like it."
"You know I do."
He chuckled and moved his hands onto her breasts. "Yeah, I can tell," he said, tracing his fingers over her nipples, which had gotten erect and were pressing out the T-shirt's soft fabric. His caresses sent more thrills roiling through her and caused her to gasp yet again.
"Let...let me get cleaned up," she murmured.
He turned her around and kissed her. She'd always loved kissing him. It was incredible. His kisses were somehow soft, yet urgent; gentle, yet fierce. She never knew how he did it. Of course, he always said the same thing about her kisses and said he never understood how she did it. Both of them agreed they didn't kiss nearly enough, although in the past few years they'd gotten in the habit of doing it a lot more. While they kissed, he grabbed her bottom - he always said she had the best butt in the universe. She wrapped her arms around his neck, but was careful to keep her stuffing-covered hands from touching anything.
"I...I need to...to wash...my...hands..." she gasped when they paused their kiss to grab some breath.
He smiled at her. "I can do that," he said softly.
She thought he meant he'd wash her hands off and was a little puzzled. What he did next both shocked and delighted her. He took hold of her right arm, guided her hand to his mouth, and proceeded to lick the stuffing mixture off it. It tickled and she couldn't help giggling, but at the same time she found his unexpected actions incredibly arousing. Her insides had moved from the wonderful tingling she loved so much to a wild, wonderful churning sensation. That churning sensation intensified when, after finishing her right hand, he "cleaned up" the left one exactly the same way. At one point she thought she might have an orgasm while he was sucking the mixture off her fingers.
"There," he said, grinning, when he'd finished.
"You're going to get sick from eating that," she said.
"Maybe, but not before I finish what I started," he replied. "Come on." He guided her into the bedroom that, fortunately, wasn't that far from the kitchen. "There are times when it's really great not having the kids around any more," he noted as they went. "We sure as heck couldn't have done this when they were still home, huh?"
"Uh...no...um...I guess not," she replied.
He sat down on the bed, pulled her in front of him, and shoved her T-shirt up. Immediately he began suckling her nipples, first one, and then the other. Thrills raced through her and left her clutching his head, gasping. Her legs began to tremble. She finished taking the T-shirt off. While he continued to suckle on her nipples, he slid a hand inside her sweatpants and began caressing her vagina.
"You're wet!" he exclaimed softly.
She was delighted by his discovery. At her age, that didn't happen a lot. "You made me that way," she replied. She gasped and shuddered when he began stroking her clit with one finger. "Oh, God!" she groaned.
She was so turned on she was sure her legs would give out and she'd collapse in a heap on the floor any second, but just when she was sure that would happen, he guided her around and got her lying on the bed. He stripped her sweatpants off and since she had no underpants on, that left her lying naked.
She saw him gazing down at her with unabashed adoration and shuddered a little inside. "How can he stand to look at me?" she wondered. "What does he see that I don't?"
