It's Sunday morning and we turn to each other, as we've been doing since the 1980s.
It hasn't been so frequent in the last few years, the years of my soft cock. I've been disappointed at it for letting down my deep dark desires.
There's been a yearning in me to regain my full hardness, to fuck her brains out the way I used to, but that kind of reliable stiffness is elusive these days. And still, we turn to each other, with love.
Soft touches. She grazes my nipples and I feel a stirring, butterflies in my belly. I'm learning to avert my focus from what isn't happening a bit further down. I caress her the way we both love, remembering not to rush her now that she is over 70. Always focusing on the energy flow, consciously sending love out through our fingertips. Feeling it circulating around both of our bodies. I feel that energy descending, dropping down from my shoulders into my belly. Makes me shiver with desire.
Her mature woman breasts are so soft, so able to just lie there in the comfort of themselves, the wisdom of the ages. I remind myself to worship, not to ambush them. Gently stroking, loving the way they swell outwards as my hand descends from her shoulders. Fullness, richness, abundance echo through the ages of me.
She cups my balls, gently, proprietorially. I love trusting her touch in such vulnerable places. She knows how to squeeze just enough. Appreciating their weight, their lifegiving power. And the power she has in her hands. Power that could crush me - but chooses to love me.
Now my energy is coming from the tips of my toes and the roots of my hair. One of the great joys of my softer cock: the signals from the rest of my body are so much louder.
There is no rush, I'm just loving her neck, the softness of her breasts, the vast potential of her ass. My deep yearning to enter her core, to stretch into her. Her invitation.
Now I am loving her vulva with my tongue, no sharp focus, just embracing it and celebrating its juicy slickness, the deep throbbing power under the thin sensitive membranes. Licking all around the edges of her lips, nuzzling her fur, sending my energy inwards and upwards. Noticing but not focusing on the first gentle swellings of her labia and clit. Tongue washing past them, over them. Slipping back and forth, bringing my lips into a luscious clit-kiss.
My hands reaching upwards, surfing the lovely inward curve of her waist and on, up to the deep, deep power of those gorgeous breasts. They are still soft and slow but I feel their potential. They know so much, they have launched so many ships. And still they tug all the way through my fingertips, along my sinews, deep into my balls and my ass and my belly. I want this woman.
I deliberately keep my built in cock-monitor in the background of my reptilian man-brain. The part of me that is wired to wonder how hard I am, the part of me that feels unworthy if I can't split her in two. The truth is, even the swelling I got earlier when we kissed, has gone much softer now, while I nestle between her legs laving her beloved cunt with my tongue. I keep reminding myself I have a new body now, it is differently able. I am a man with a soft cock, and I love my woman. We are making love with all kinds of strength. Old love and desire, new kinds of strength to share it.