Assisted Living: Still Got It

I felt her hand slowly slide across my upper thigh and come to rest in my groin. I looked over, but she was chatting with the woman next to her. I turned to the other side and glanced at my dad, who was shakily trying to get a spoonful of soup into his mouth. I made sure his napkin was positioned to catch any spills as I felt her hand trying to massage my cock through my pants. As utterly bizarre as it all seemed, I felt my cock begin to stir, and slowly stiffened from the stimulation.

I typically enjoyed having dinner at the assisted living place my dad lived in. He seemed happy enough there, and the older people seemed to enjoy my company, especially Mrs. Haskins apparently. Assured dad was getting along well with his soup, I leaned over to Mrs. Haskins, "Maybe you should use both hands for dinner?" as she speared some salad with her fork.

"I am dear," she said with stray bits of lettuce circling her mouth, "I'm keeping it warm." Her hand continued its gentle massaging, rewarded with an increasingly stiff bulge growing under her fingers. Mrs. Haskins, Margaret, was a recent resident while her husband was in the skilled nursing wing. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she smiled at me, chewing her salad with perfect teeth. She removed her hand as the aides came by to collect plates and bring more food.

She kept her hands to herself through the rest of dinner, and as I was helping dad up, to walk him back to his room, she pulled on my arm. "Come by my room later, I need help with something. Room 32," she added.

"Isn't that what the aides are for?"

"I think a handsome young man like you will be better." Only in this place could I be accused of being young. Handsome I could see, but young? At 50 I hardly felt young anymore, but when you're pushing 80, I suppose it is. Oddly, Mrs. Haskins seemed pretty spry, and I could tell she must have been very attractive when she was younger. She wasn't unattractive now, just... older.

After getting dad settled so he could fall asleep in front of the TV, I started back to my car, and then remembered Mrs. Haskins. Curiosity got the better of me, and I detoured, ending up at her door. I knocked, and she quickly answered, and ushered me inside, looking around to see who was watching.

"Gossips, the lot of them. You have to be careful."

"Yes, I'm sure you do. Now, you said you needed help with something Mrs. Haskins?"

"Margaret. Call me Margaret," she reminded me.

"Of course, Margaret. How can I help?"

"Yes dear, please sit down, I'll only be a moment. Make yourself comfortable." I wasn't sure why I needed to be comfortable, but at least she wasn't grabbing my crotch. I sat down as she requested, sinking back into the overstuffed couch. I could hear her running water in the bathroom, and some clinking noises, and soon she returned, her mouth looking a little funny.

She immediately sat on the couch next to me and her hands went straight for my belt. "Whoa, Margaret, hold on, I started to protest."

"I will, young man. Tightly." I could see she had removed her teeth. I wasn't sure how fragile she was, and didn't want to hurt her, but I tried to stop her from continuing anyway. She wasn't giving up and despite my gentle attempts, my buckle was undone, and she started on my zipper.

"Margaret, what are you doing?"

"I'm opening your trousers."

"I see that," I stated flatly, "But why?"

"So, I can give you a blow job." I was stunned by that. "Now be a dear and lift your hips." I must have looked very confused. "Have you ever had a blow job without teeth?"

"No...," I admitted as she started tugging on my pants to free my cock. The thought was intriguing enough that I felt myself starting to swell again.

"Let an old lady have her fun."

I raised my hips slightly and tugged my pants down a bit, and then pushed my boxers down, as my semi-erect cock revealed itself to her. Without hesitation she placed her bony fingers around it and slowly started stroking, feeling it harden in her hand.

"Thank you," she said, and her head leaned down, thin lips sliding over my shaft. I could feel the hard ridges of her gums as she took more of me in, but it wasn't sharp like teeth, and I sank back into the couch as she went to work with a shallow bobbing motion, her mouth firmly stroking my cock while her tongue pressed against the side and licked the head when it was in position.

Her mouth firmly hugged my cock, and I can honestly say I had never had head like that before. Without teeth, it was more like being fucked by a firm pussy, or anal; a much tighter embrace. She was surprisingly enthusiastic, and I realized this was something she had done a lot through her long life. She was noticeably quiet, without a lot of slurping, and far more quickly than usual, I realized I was going to cum.

I didn't know what to do with my hands. I felt I should at least put one on her head, maybe stroke her hair, but it seemed odd, and it wasn't like I'd be using it to pull her down deeper, she was doing quite fine as it was, and without gagging. I couldn't believe I was being deep throated by a woman old enough to be my mother. Her lips were snug against the base of my cock as her tongue worked on the bottom part of my shaft and I could feel the head being massaged by the back of her throat.

She lifted her head up and I could feel the sudden intake of breath once her mouth was free and then she resumed the slow rhythmic bobbing again. Reflexively I reached out with one hand and placed my fingers in her light gray hair, as I felt my cock tingling with an imminent climax. I closed my eyes as it continued to build, my rapid breathing punctuated by gasps and moans as I announced to her, "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum."

I expected her to stop, stroking me to the finish, but she murmured approvingly and drove her lips down to the base, bobbing slightly and using her tongue to create pressure on my shaft. She sucked and my entire cock was hugged by warm, wet pressure as I squirmed my hips slightly and pushed needlessly on her head.

My cock felt like it swelled up suddenly and she made a startled noise when the first blast erupted from me, hitting the back of her throat, but she didn't react in any other way but to continue deep throating my cock, swallowing cum and milking more from me in increasingly weaker spurts. Sated, I slumped back into the couch again and realized I was idly stroking her hair.

She firmly squeezed my cock with her lips as she lifted her head, extracting any remaining cum from it and licked her lips once she sat up, tidily making sure she swallowed every drop. "I've still got it," she smiled. "God, how I've missed that."

"Yes, Margaret, you've still got it." I felt funny sitting there with her, my cock shrinking in my lap. "You've definitely still got it."

She beamed at me with her toothless smile. "How do you feel about eating pussy?"