Jack lay in bed, listening to the time go by.
A large clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, the minutes, the hours. He'd gone to bed at 11. It was now nearly 2.
Tricia wasn't home yet. He couldn't sleep until she returned.
She was 66, he was pushing 70, still as crazy about his sexy wife now as when they married so many decades ago, raising children, having grandchildren. Tricia was a model for what older women aspire to. With her natural chestnut brown hair and flashing green eyes, she was drop-dead gorgeous still, tall and lean and shapely, a lifelong devotee of exercise and keeping her shape. She had the requisite wrinkles of a woman her age, but much less so than other women in that range, with slight puckers of crow's feet around her brilliant eyes and perfect mouth that held bright white teeth.
He knew men found her attractive, welcomed it even as it frightened her. He wasn't that secure about himself, a tad overweight and not able to perform as readily as in years past. That's what haunted him the most. He well remembered what it was like to be younger, to will a soft cock to hard life almost just by thought.
Now. Now was different. Now he feared Tricia, with a very high sex drive for a gal her age, would look elsewhere for contentment.
She'd gone out on the town with her girlfriends, a not uncommon occurrence, one Jack took in stride. But when she'd come home late...that's when his imagination ran wild.
Crunching sounds in the driveway. She was home. The garage door lifted, she pulled inside, it closed. He waited. Long minutes passed until she came up the stairs, humming happily. He heard her go to the 'fridge, pour herself one last glass of wine. He wondered how many she'd had before. He wondered how it affected her judgement, her desire, her willingness.
She came up stairs, slowly, still humming. It was dark, with just enough light from the hallway windows to silhouette her beautiful form. She wore a dark skirt, no nylons. Her legs were long, strong, supple. His dick stirred.
"Did...did you have a good time?" he heard himself ask weakly. "It's late. I was worried."
She said nothing, but he saw those white teeth flash in a smile as she walked in, putting her drink on the headboard of the king-sized bed. He sniffed. She smelled of liquor, and seemed a bit uneasy on her feet.
She stripped down, naked, her big, brown bush coming into view as she stood next to his side of the bed to disrobe, then walk slowly to her side, her large boobs bouncing, flashing white in the dimness, offsetting the deep tan of the rest of her luscious body. His dick stirred all the more.
"Yes," she sighed, slipping under the covers and draping one thigh, strong and silky, over his lap. She felt his dick stiffen under it.
"A very...very good time," she said, slipping that thigh down a bit, her knee nuzzling his bloated balls, working her hand into his boxer openings to tickle his dick. "A very good time."
"Oh, God, Tricia, no, no, no!" he lamented, turning his head to face her, gasping as she gripped his dick harder, squeezing.
He was fully erect. He'd have trouble getting that hard in recent years, but Tricia never failed on certain occasions to get him there. On nights like tonight. On nights of her adventures.
She smiled, leaning to his face, gently breathing on him. He inhaled.
"Smell that," she laughed gently. "Can you smell...him on me? Can you smell...cock, my darling?"
"No, please ...Tricia, no..." he begged,his cock throbbing in her small, strong hand as it moved up and down. "Please..."
"He was a young one, but you know that, they're all young ones, and you know that, too," she continued, carefully stroking his dick, playing off his body movements, slowing as needed, speeding up when the time was right, punctuating her words with her hand. "And big...god, he was soooo big..."
