From liniment to an oil massage. It was, of course, Carol's idea for another visit to Mr Girrson on another night. The idea of feeling Mr Girrson all slippery beneath her as she worked his back rather pleased her and she thought surely he would like it as much as she, when he felt her breasts sliding softly in the oil across his back. He had indeed, and he had liked it the more when she had turned him over on his towel covered bed and rubbed her breasts against his breast!
And Carol had sat back down on his erection, had been so careful to sit on it and make sure it did not enter her by mistake. It had been so nice for her to feel the ridge of the erection's underside against her sex. Had been so good to rub up and down it, the long shaft slippy-sliding across her clitoris and between her inner lips. She had been facing his head and it was so nice to see the big erection's swollen head with taut fraenum appearing and disappearing. Sooner or later the little eye she could see right at the tip of the swollen pink knob would open and Mr Girrson's white semen would pour out.
"Can I hold?"
He meant her breasts. He had been watching them swing.
"Of course not, Mr Girrson, holding your young neighbour's breasts - whatever are you thinking of! I don't know. You mature men lusting after young wives!"
Wonderfully absurd giving she was on top of him completely naked, covered in oil and sliding up and down his cock, masturbating him with her sex. There it was, appearing and disappearing under her pubic hair, so slippery with oil and her wetness. Lovely!
It was not him. Not at all. It was Carol's doing. Everything so slippery that it, his penis, had just slipped inside. She did not tell him but it had. The thing she had promised herself not to do had just been done - as easy as that. One moment she was slippy-sliding along the ridge of his erection feeling every bulging vein bumping her clit when she had simply slid too far forward and on the return motion his penis head had just gone in. The slipperiness of her vulva had been such that he seemed not to have noticed that he had gone inside just for a second -- not the whole thing of course, not the whole way, perhaps an inch and a half at most but it had been done. Carol knew it. The thing she had promised herself not to do had been done.
She had squeaked and pulled back but it had been done. A penis that was not her husband's had entered her for the first time in five years of marriage. She had felt its bigness, the size of its smooth mushroom head.
Should she tell Mike? Explain it had been an accident but then she would have to tell him everything. He knew how sexual she was, knew how much she liked penises -- well his penis anyway. Mike could hardly find Mr Girrson a threat -- not at seventy! He would be surprised and even angry. Carol would not like that at all.
Calmed down, perhaps he might agree, sometimes, to letting Mr Girrson join with them, be understanding of how much she liked the idea of a second cock; would maybe accept she needed more time, that he could be a little hasty? Might he not like the idea of performing first, letting Mr Girrson take over and then, having rested and watched, be ready for another try? Carol knew she would like that. A succession of erections - Mike's, Mr Girrson and then Mike again.
She did not know but, perhaps, Mike might rather enjoy watching his wife being fucked by another man, especially one who posed no threat, might enjoy watching the event, perhaps be really turned on by seeing such a big cock entering her and see how it stretched his little girl; would he perhaps like to take her anally -- he liked that, after all, even if she did not -- whilst she rode Mr Girrson's penis in the proper place; would Mike find it stimulating to approach her bottom and see Mr Girrson ready lodged in her vagina, his big penis and balls moving -- would he like that? Would he like working his wife in unison with Mr Girrson, the two penises sliding separately but together in adjacent holes? Would she like that even if she did not relish anal sex on its own? And, of course, she would accept doing that for Mike!
Would Mike enjoy watching her lips move from one cock to the other? The two men close, she with one cock in each hand, simply taking it in turns to suck one then the other, until one came. Would Mike find it a real turn on to see Mr Girrson's eyes widen and his breath come in short gasps as he came, knowing, whilst he could not see it, that his wife was drinking the older man's cum -- her throat moving as she swallowed. Would he like that or be appalled? Would he like seeing her rise from Mr Girrson's penis, show the semen still in her mouth and then drizzle it all over her husband's penis before she descended and sucked? To her it was all terribly erotic -- but that did not mean it would be to Mike! He had a penis after all, unlike she who had a penis fetish!
Exciting thoughts as she continued to slide back and forth along the ridge of Mr Girrson's oily erection. She looked down at naked Mr Girrson. The old man was lying there looking at her moving breasts, her movement making them swing with a big smile on his face. She knew she had been a bit unfair not letting him touch them. Silly really, there she was riding his cock - he was touching her with that, had even been inside her. yet she had not permitted his hands to touch.
Carol was almost there when the white stuff starting coming. She kept up her movement as it flowed out and onto Mr Girrson's tummy. She opened her mouth in a gesture of excitement at the happening, her eyes seeking his trying to share in his pleasure, but his eyes were tight shut. Carol smiled watching the old man in the midst of his orgasm. Their play was good for both of them. She could see it in him. It had made him a little younger. Mr Girrson had always held himself ram rod straight but there was an extra jauntiness now in his walk. He was undoubtedly enjoying the sexual activity with her and it was making him feel good about himself as well. She smiled at the idea her games were therapeutic for him. As for Carol, well she had needs and an extra cock within easy reach was a good thing indeed. Nice that she was pleasing the old man too... though a nuisance about letting his penis slip into her. Well, it was only a quick slip and only a bit of a penis.
Carol raised herself up and played with herself. There was no self consciousness about it. She played as she might on her own whilst a post orgasmic Mr Girrson watched her. She showed it all. The fingers playing with her nipples, the other hand busily at work at her sex - frigging indeed. Fingers stuffed into herself and then strumming her clitoris. She came all right. Kneeling over him, knees astride his thighs and his recently ejaculated penis below her. Eyes screwed shut, mouth opening as if seeking a penis, making her usual whimpering noises and the occasional cry of 'fuck me.' She showed him her orgasm, held nothing back, a piece of exhibitionism.
"You were dripping," he said afterwards. "It was lovely. My wife..."
Carol looked expectantly. Mr Girrson did not often talk intimately about his late wife. Her photographs were throughout the house. Carol hoped she did not look disapprovingly from atop the chest of drawers. Carol was, after all, only being kind to Mr Girrson.
"... she used to get very wet." The sadness on his face showed. A man is often rather sad after ejaculation. It makes the man melancholy. It was not perhaps the time for reflection. He sighed. "I remember on honeymoon. In Cornwall actually. Such a long drive. Took us two days. That first night in the hotel. You young people don't know, but we hadn't - hadn't had intercourse. Mary was a virgin. I can't honestly say I was. We had, well we had played with hands and fingers you know but not the whole hog. It was a lovely room and..."
Carol stayed quiet, just sitting back down on his thighs. She was on 'the Pill,' it did not matter sitting on his, now squidgy, penis.
"Well I was thinking back to when we first... it was a few weeks into the honeymoon and we had had a lovely day. I remember lying on the bed listening to the sea outside the little cottage we had taken and Mary coming in from the bathroom, naked but for a towel around her head. I remember that because she looked so beautiful when she pulled that off and let her damp black hair fall around her. I expect I went up like a sky rocket but instead of getting on me normally she surprised me by getting on the bed by my head and swinging her leg over me so I was looking up between her thighs. It was a surprise, perhaps she had talked about such things with her friends but it was quite obvious, you know, it was going to be a bit French - soixante-neuf you know."
