We lay like that for several minutes, catching our breath.
The happy smile on her round face made me smile back.
When she rolled up onto her side I was fascinated by the way her breasts and her belly seemed to move separately from the rest of her body. It was like they followed her before her belly sort of flopped onto the bed between us and her right breast, the one on top as she rolled to face me, made an audible slap on the left when it came over the top of her body.
She propped her chin in her palm, smiled down at me, brushed a few stray hairs off of my cheek, and in a
non sequitur
of epic proportions asked, "Have you ever had a prostate exam?"
I shook my head to focus.
"Ummmmm," I said, dragging the consonant out into a soft hum, "once."
"Did you enjoy it?" she asked, smiling.
My mind ran through it, the only time I ever had that done. The Air Force doctor had me stand and drop my pants and underpants to my knees, put my left hand on the edge of the examination table, and then use my right hand to spread my cheeks. Standing in that awkward, humiliating position I heard that odd snap as he put on the rubber glove and then there was that sudden pressure, not pain but pressure, as he pushed his finger in and probed for a few seconds.
"Okay," the doctor said afterwards and handed me a box of
Kleenex
, well, of GI tissue in a plain brown box actually, and left me to clean up as he punched some keys on his computer.
"Did you enjoy it?" she asked. That wasn't an easy question to answer. I hadn't actually "enjoyed" it, but there had been that instant of penetration when my body had involuntarily pushed back.
"I didn't hate it," I said.
Her smile morphed into a grin and she rolled up, almost catlike, until she was on her knees beside me.
When I started to get up to match her position she laid her hand on my chest. "No, Sweet Cheeks, you just relax and let Gramma Cleo take care of everything."
So I laid back, relaxed, and waited. I was feeling an odd combination of nervous and excited.
She lifted my head and put two pillows under it, leaving me looking down my body. I figured I was completely done, and the look of my dick reinforced that. I'm not terribly big anyway and after sex, never mind after two quick rounds of sex, I tend to be very stubby, just my glans sitting on top of an inch of bratwurst.
She started manipulating me. If we're being crude about it, she started handling me like a piece of meat on a butcher's table. If we're being nice, she started directing me like a photographer posing her model.
She had me lift my knees and then part them, adjusting them until my feet were touching, the soles flat against each other.
When she had me in that position, she scooted around until she was on her knees on the bed, her knees almost touching where my feet lay sole-to-sole. From that position, she had all the leverage. She lifted my knees and started pushing them up, slowly, smiling at me as she did it. When she had my knees so far back they almost touched my nipples she said, "Give me your hands."
I reached and she laid my hands on the inside of my thighs.
"Hold yourself in this position," she said, that smile almost angelic.
My back was arched and when I looked down my stubby cock was pointing right at me. I could see her through the wide "V" of my legs and watched as her hands moved down. Her left hand lifted the big soft apron of her belly and her right went between her legs. Her fingers were shiny and dripping when she pulled her hand out and I understood in that instant what she had in mind.
The first touch of her fingertip on my asshole took my breath away.
Her fingertip circled and then touched my anus, a little pressure and the tiniest bit of penetration.
I watched her do that a half dozen times. Each time her finger was a little more aggressive and on the sixth it went all the way in and she touched my prostate.
I gasped at the sudden jolt that went through me, tightening my scrotum and making my nipples tingle.
I guess I had closed my eyes because when she asked, "Do you want me to stop, Davey?" I opened them and saw her smiling.
"No," I said, my voice breathy. It was like I couldn't make my vocal cords work.
"Then tell me," she said. She was perfectly still, only her lips moving.
"Don't stop," I managed.
"Now be polite, Honey," she said, still not moving.
I realized, almost a religious epiphany, what she wanted and I surrendered to it.
"Please don't stop," I said.
"Good boy," she said and pulled her finger out, going between her own legs for more natural lubricant.
The second penetration was easy. I was relaxed where she penetrated but tense everywhere else.
Her finger was slick and when she touched my prostate and moved her fingertip, giving a little massage, my cock twitched, and my nipples tingled.
When she stopped it was the most natural thing in the world to say, "Please don't stop."
I realized, about the third time she stopped and I was saying, "Please don't stop," that this was something she had done before. I realized, as well, that I hoped I could give her what she needed so we could do this again.
I wasn't surprised when, about the tenth time she dipped her finger into her generous well of natural lubricant, it was two fingers that entered me. It didn't hurt but it did stretch. But the second finger gave a new sensation when she massaged my prostate making it all worth it.
When her movement stopped it was automatic.
"Please don't stop," and when she didn't start moving I heard the soft whine in my voice when I said, "Please, please, please, more."
She nipped my earlobe gently.
"Do you like what I'm doing?" she asked, each word a soft warm puff in my ear.
