Getting old sucks. Getting old and sick sucks double. Getting old and sick alone really sucks. When I had my heart trouble, 4 years ago, sure, I was 70, but I had by wife Esther to see me through it. The worst part was losing my erection, because of the medication. Esther and I were proud sexy seniors until then. That sweet woman , who looked like the ex Sunday school teacher she was, loved sex of all sorts. We shared a common passion for blow jobs. Although intercourse was great, her enjoyment of the oral art of giving had always made waking up a pleasure. Before the heart attack, few mornings went by without Esther's morning special. Although Esther always said " Sweetie, your fingers and tongue are magic enough for me," I always thought it was the loss of that part of our sex lives that caused Esther's health to fail. She died quickly , two years ago.
Now, I lay here with a busted knee. I was the lucky one, though, cause she was dead. Esther would have told me to "Quit bitching . Beats being dead." Then, in the old days, she would have unzipped me, bent down and given me something to smile about. She did the same thing on the rare days she felt blue. A full mouth always made her smile.
Ironically, the painkillers for the knee surgery not only gave me wild erotic dreams, they also somehow overrode the beta blockers. Frequently, especially on waking, I was erect, without Esther to share it with. Getting old sucked without Esther to make me feel young again.
One afternoon, I dreamed I was awaking from my nap after a special erotic dream of Esther having gone down on me in the organ loft at church. My meat was fully erect, and I imagined her waking me up with her full red lips engulfing my engorged organ. I dreamed of being 50 again, loving Esther's morning special better even than Sunday breakfast of blueberry waffles. Many Sundays, we missed breakfast, and rushed to get to church. After church, Esther was usually , as she said " Full of the spirit of love." Sundays had became was our special fun days. In addition to the wake up oral treat, Esther would spice up my life with a surprise. Sometimes, she dressed special. Other times, I awoke to find myself tied to the bedposts. Other days, the ropes would be waiting for me to tie Esther after she swallowed my first load. Or we roleplayed fantasies. One of her favourite was what she called the " Daddy" game-pretending that I was her father,especially excited Esther. I acted like a stern cold brute, and she worked to seduce me. We would always play until we both were so satisfied that we collapsed in a puddle of sweat and cum.
The absolute best time, though, was once when Esther was so horny , that before the service started, she sucked me off in the Church choir loft. As she deep throated me , she whispered, "Daddy, feel my tits, my nipples are hard as rocks." I did. They were. I tweeked them with my thumbs. After 30 years together, I knew how Esther liked it. I proceeded to knead her big breasts in my palms, as the organist warmed up with a few psalms. I ran my hands around, outside her choir gown, and lifted up the hem. Esther stopped her sucking long enough to say, "Yes, Daddy, one thumb in each hole please. If we cum as the music climaxes no one will know."
I was surprised to discover she wasn't wearing panties to church that day. "You've been a bad girl, Esther," I said, playing along, " Daddy will have to punish you after church."
" Oh, daddy, you promise?" Esther smiled , then resumed her attention to my hardness.
My fingers explored her , meeting with just a thin membrane separating them. She was so wet, fluid gushed down her bare legs, staining the oak floorboards of the choir loft. She captured my whole cock in her mouth, her lips tight around the base, her tongue bathing my shaft. She squeezed my scrotum, then released it, causing a load of sperm to flood up my rod. She expertly swallowed it all, despite her own orgasmic thrashing on my fingers. She paused afterwards, still on her knees, gown up around her waist, her juices dripping from her pussy. I tucked my cock in my pants, and looked up. The grinning organist gave me a thumbs up .
After the service, the pastor complimented her on her especially fine voice that day. "I used a special throat cream this morning," Esther had replied, grinning. This lead to another blowjob in the parking lot before we drove home.
When we got home, ‘Daddy' delivered on the promised punishment. I tied her to a hard wooden chair in the kitchen. I stripped her dress by quickly ripping the buttons , a handful of fabric in each fist. Her ripe breasts, still firm at 50, stared up at me, encased in a pushup bra. " Oh, daughter, what sort of slut wears a frontloader to church," I roleplayed. I released the clasp. Her tits didn't sag. If anything, they seemed to surge upwards. I reached behind me. In a drawer, I found tiny clothes pins Esther used to hang her dainties to dry. I captured each nipple in a pin. The pain made her gasp.
" Please, Daddy, if you take those off, I'll suck you. Would that do , Daddy? I know I've been bad."
"Suck me first, and if you do it well, I'll forgive your slutty behaviour."
I stepped closer, my crotch right in her face, the fly of my pants straining to contain my cock, brushing her cheek.
" Okay, Daddy, anything, oh, those hurt sooo nice. Will you take your beautiful cock out for me? My hands are all tied up."
" Use your teeth, slut."
