Eternal

Working as a male home health nurse, I thought I'd seen it all. At age 33, I was 5 years into my career.

Never say you've seen it all. Life will throw you a curve ball you've never seen.

My boss calls me into the office. "Tom, we have a new assignment for you. An elderly woman has requested a 24-hour-a-day nurse. We'd like to assign you."

"24 hours a day? So... I would live in her house until...?"

"Until she dies or she cancels the request."

"No wonder you want to assign me. I live alone and I'm a workaholic, so I already only see my apartment when I sleep in it."

"You got it. So, will you accept the assignment?"

"Yes."

I packed up my essentials, let my apartment complex know what was happening (they were quite happy to continue to receive my rent, even though I would not be physically present until the end of the assignment), arranged for all my bills to be on auto-pay (my checks were already on direct deposit), and headed over.

An old lady opened the door in response to me ringing the bell.

"Good morning, ma'am. You requested a 24-hour live-in home health nurse?"

I showed her my ID.

"I did. Come on in. I'll call you Tom, and you can call me Meg."

"Meg?"

"My birth name is Margaret, but that's way too formal. Call me Meg. I want us to be good friends."

She closed and locked the front door behind us.

"I've got years' worth of food that can't go bad. I don't think I'll live that many more years. So we'll never need to leave."

"How old are you, Meg?"

"I just turned eighty-one."

"Doesn't anyone come visit you?"

"Nope. My husband died years ago and my son was killed by a tropical disease back in '93. He was volunteering as a doctor in Nepal."

"I'm sorry, Meg. He was your only child?"

"Yes."

"So... what exactly is my job here?"

"Aside from the usual keep an eye on me to make sure I'm OK, because at my age no one is ever 100% healthy, you mean? Here's the details of the contract."

I read through it.

"So... anything you ask?"

"It won't be anything onerous. But you're young and tall and strong, and I'm old and short and frail. I don't need to be climbing on step-stools to get down my ladles and pans or to change a light bulb when you can reach them just by standing up."

Meg was a good foot shorter than me. I'm six-foot-one, and she was MAYBE five feet tall. If that. She was slightly plump (at her age, I wouldn't expect otherwise: only young people have washboard-flat stomachs), her hair was pure white and shoulder-length, and her cheery smile seemed permanently attached to her face.

"That doesn't seem unreasonable."

"You can put your stuff in the second bedroom. It has an attached washroom."

I took half an hour to unpack and put away what I'd brought. Then I returned to the living room.

"It's lunchtime." The clock did read 12:30 p.m. "So your first task is to go into the kitchen with me." I did. "Now get down that pot, that spoon and that container of pasta."

Meg's cooking was wonderful. I complimented her.

"I learned a lot from my mom," she explained.

I hadn't been paying full attention to Meg's outfit, but now that my mind could relax a bit rather than lock in my concentration on essentials, I noticed she appeared to be wearing a robe.

"Only because I didn't want to answer the door naked. This place has a comfortable temperature, so unless other people are here, there's no reason to wear clothes at all," Meg explained.

After lunch, she asked to see my ID again, then opened a locked safe, took out some papers and seemed to write something. She put the papers away in the safe and returned my ID.

"Do not open the safe until after I die," she instructed me.

"All right."

I wondered about that, but she was the client. Her wishes were to be respected.

"Since you're here, and I don't have any immediate medical issues, why don't you sit down on the couch and relax a bit?"

I would have to figure out a way to occupy my time. "All right."

Meg settled next to me on the couch and put on an old movie, "Captive Girl." I had never seen it. It was a fine adventure movie.

"I just love watching this one," she explained after it ended. "I want Jungle Jim to `save' me."

"You still have...?"

"I haven't lost my desires just because I'm no longer young." Meg leaned against me, putting her head on my chest and her hand on my thigh. "Having a strapping young man like you around is turning me on."

"Ummm..."

"You know I could always just claim my muscles are aching and order you to massage me, and let nature take its course. But I'm hoping I won't have to do that."

She had a point there.

"I'm going to go back to my normal state of undress now." Meg stood up, slipped off her robe and hung it neatly in the closet. She walked back over to me and sat on my lap, facing away from me. "How about you hold me?"

The client's wishes are to be respected. It's a fundamental principle of my work. I put my arms around Meg.

"Move your hands up a bit, Tom. Put them over my breasts."

I sighed internally. Meg apparently hadn't been lying about her desires still being present. I placed my hands on her breasts. They were not large - I guessed Meg had been a B-cup back when she wore clothes - and they were somewhat saggy. Again, at her age, that was normal. Only young people (or people with silicone chests) have firm breasts. I wouldn't expect her to have a big chest, given that her frame was so tiny.

"Mmmm. You have wonderfully strong hands. Please tease my nipples with those fingers."

I lightly brushed Meg's nipples with my fingertips. She sighed happily and began rubbing her bare butt against my clothed groin. Her nipples stiffened into little points.

"Oooooh. Tweak them a little."

I gently rolled Meg's nipples between my fingers. She rubbed her rear against me with more firmness.

"You have very nice hands, Tom."

"Thanks, Meg."

She spread her legs and guided my left hand down between then. I gently ran a fingertip along her slit - and sure enough, it was moist. Meg maneuvered my finger to her clit, and I brushed it lightly. She shivered.

Meg guided my finger back to her box. "Put it in," she whispered.

"Yes'm." I slid my finger between her folds.

"More fingers," Meg squealed. I inserted a second, then a third, and began scissoring them inside the old lady. She squirmed with pleasure.

I started pumping my fingers in and out, and Meg moaned with delight. My other hand was still on her breast, and I rubbed and tweaked her nipple. Meg's body began trembling with excitement.

I placed my lips against the back of Meg's neck and kissed her as I worked her ancient slot. She responded by grinding herself more intensely against me, pressing her body backwards against mine. I pumped my fingers until she let out a little shriek of pleasure and a small gush of honey flowed over my digits.

I removed my hand from between her legs. "That was very nice," Meg purred. "But next time I want your cock in there, and I want you to fill me up."

"You want me to... cum inside your pussy?"

"I ain't getting pregnant at this age, sweetie, and you know I'm VD-free because you checked my medical records. So are you or you wouldn't be allowed to work at your job."

The real reason is because I haven't had time to have sex because of my job, I thought, But Meg was right: I was clean, and so was she.

"And when do you want `next time' to be?"

"I want you to take off your clothes and be naked around the house, just like me. And I'd like you to sleep in my bed with me tonight. Tomorrow morning, I want your cum."

Well, the client is always right, so...

I slid Meg's body off of me and got up. I went to the bedroom Meg had assigned me and removed my clothing, putting it neatly away. Then I returned to the living room.

"Good boy." Meg was running her eyes over my body. "Mmmmm, gorgeous. So handsome and muscular. And you're not so large as to break me in half, and not so small as to have me not know you're in there."

My cock was not standing at full mast, but when it does, it's about seven inches long and reasonably thick.

"Come to the bed with me and let's cuddle and talk,"

Meg insisted I hold her from behind. Now she could rub her nicely rounded bare butt against my naked flesh. She did most of the talking, telling me about her life. She was a teenager during the 1950's and got a job straight out of high school as a typist. She met her late husband at work - he was a young, handsome employee who was on the way up. 30 years later, she was his secretary and he was a top executive. He retired after the death of their only child, and died shortly thereafter, out of grief more than anything else. Meg had been living here alone ever since.

I held her and let her speak. When she finished, I said sympathetically, "You must have been lonely."

"I was." She pressed back more firmly against me. "But not anymore, because you're here and will be for the rest of my life."

I helped get things ready for dinner. Meg insisted on doing the cooking. "I've been doing this ever since I was just a girl. My mom started teaching me when I was five."

We fell asleep with me holding her. I woke up with my arms still around her as she started to stir to life. We did our morning routine and came back to the bed.

"I haven't seen that nice cock of yours fully hard yet."

With that, Meg began gently caressing my organ. It slowly started to stiffen. She put her other hand down to my balls and ran her fingers over them. After several minutes of her ministrations, my cock reached its full length.

"Ooooh. I can't wait to have that in me."

Meg continued to use one hand on my pole, while her other hand worked between her legs for a long moment.

"Okay, I'm ready for you, Tom."

Meg lay on her back and spread her legs. I positioned myself between them and slowly eased my rod into her box. She was very tight.

"Nice and easy, honey. Remember, I haven't done this in over 20 years."

I placed my hands on either side of Meg, not wanting to put my body weight actually ON her. She gave me a smile. I began sliding in and out, taking my time. Meg made appreciative sounds.

I built to a slow, smooth rhythm. Meg was moaning with pleasure. Her legs wrapped around my waist. I braced myself more firmly against the bed and pumped in and out. She squealed as she climaxed.

"Keep going, hon."

I kept going. I didn't speed up, because Meg was old and fragile. I was glad she was enjoying it.

"I've missed this."

I have too, I thought. I dipped my head and began kissing and suckling Meg's nipples. She moaned and shivered. A couple minutes of that made her climax again.

"I can stay hard at this pace, but not cum, and I don't want to speed up," I told her.

"Afraid of hurting me, hon? That makes sense. H'mm. We can try it with me on top, but you'll still have to do the work."

I wrapped my arms around Meg and rolled over, leaving her on top. She placed her hands on my chest for balance, and I put mine on her hips.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

I slid her up and down on my cock and thrust upwards into her. Meg giggled like a schoolgirl and smiled down at me.

"That feels wonderful."

"This will feel better."

I sped up my thrusting, now that I wasn't in a position to have my body crush Meg's. She braced herself more fully with her hands. Her small frame quivered as I drilled up into her. She climaxed three times in four minutes.

"Are you getting close, sweetie?"

"Yep." I continued pounding her from below. My legs tensed as my climax approached. She shuddered through another orgasm. A few seconds later, I began shooting jet after jet of cum into her eager box. I held her in place until the last drops had finished exiting my balls. Then I slid her off to the side, she placed her head on my chest, and we waited a few minutes to recover.

"Thanks, hon. I needed that. I won't ask you to do that every day, but I will drain your balls twice a day at least from now on. You made me feel young again."

"I'm glad I could help, Meg."

We spent a lazy day together, and after dinner, Meg lay me on the bed and spread my legs. She got between them and used her hands to get me hard, just like she had done in the morning.

"I love sucking cock and drinking cum," she explained. "One weekend, before my son was born, I set a personal record by drinking nine loads from my husband between Friday evening and Sunday night."

"You may suck as many loads out of me as you want, Meg."

No man has ever refused an offer of a blow job from someone they are sexually involved with, and I wasn't about to be the first.

"I don't know how many days I have left. But I'm going to try for 100 loads swallowed from you before I pass on."

Meg stuck out her tongue and gently ran it along my balls. I shivered. She gave me a smirk and took one ball into her mouth, then released it and took the other one into her mouth.

"That was the appetizer," she husked. "Now for the main course."

She licked her way from the base of my cock up to the tip. Then she did it again from a different angle. She repeated the process eight times until she'd licked every part of my shaft. I made appreciative noises.

Meg then proceeded to circle her tongue around the head of my pole. She smiled at me and then started flickering her tongue rapidly on the tip of my cock. I quivered with excitement.

She parted her lips and slid the head into her mouth. I was in heaven. Her skilled tongue was doing amazing things. As if reading my mind, Meg said from around my rod, "I've had lots of practice."

She slid her mouth downwards, engulfing my pecker. Her tongue traced sensual patterns up and down the shaft. I got lost in a haze of pleasure as she licked and sucked on me while her hand teased my balls.

I only snapped out of it when my legs tensed and I suddenly realized I was about to cum. I tried to let Meg know but was only able to manage a gasp. It didn't matter: she could tell exactly what was happening. She sealed her lips around the base of my cock and eagerly gulped down every drop of my sperm. She didn't release me until my pole started softening.

She licked her lips and smiled. "That was wonderful."

"Um, would you like me to give you an orgasm in return?"

"Sweetie, I climaxed twice while blowing you. Now rest."

At her request, I helped Meg tabulate things. In the 78 days (counting the day I walked through her door) that she lived after my arrival, she sucked the cum out of my cock 126 times and I thrust up into her pussy and finished inside her 36 times. And she didn't have a single medical issue the whole time. She repeatedly thanked me for helping her "enjoy her last days."

The 78th night, we went to bed together as usual. When I woke up, I found that she had died peacefully in her sleep. No heart attack or stroke or anything, just went to sleep one night and didn't wake up.

Oh, and the papers in the locked safe? That was her last will and testament. She had given me all her assets. With no spouse and no descendants to pass them to...

I'd never have to work again. But I would keep working because I enjoyed my profession.