Invited Eating Her

Invited, Eating Her

2,098 words

8-minute read

About three in the afternoon, he asked his wife, who has Alzheimer's, "Do you remember ever having your pussy eaten?"

Surprising him, without hesitation, she replied, "Oh, yes."

"Do you miss it?"

"I don't remember. When was the last time."

"Would you like to have it eaten again?"

"Definitely."

"Tonight?"

"Yes. Right now, actually."

"But your son is here and might notice."

"That's okay; he eats me sometimes when you are gone on your sales trips. I let him whenever he wants to. He is good at it, too, and I like it, by the way. He also likes to eat my ass. The last time you were gone, he forced me to fuck his ass with my vibrating dildo. He had a huge cum after I pushed against his prostate."

His cum puddled up on my iPad screen as a visual bonus in the video I was making from under us. (The puddle looked like an amoeba as the light from the iPad screen showed through the cum.)

When I saw the puddle, it was drying around the edges from the heat of the iPad, so I followed my instinct and licked the iPad clean.

"How about as soon as he is asleep?"

"Let's do it right now?"

"I will do it tonight."

"Yay!"

He went to his computer to edit one of the many stories he'd written. He worked until she came in to say good night. Then, off to bed, she went.

He worked for a half hour finishing the project he was working on when she went to bed.

He'd changed the battery in his digital camera and set it to take pictures in low light, thinking he'd get pictures of her pussy spread open for him. He could no longer raise an erection due to his health being compromised, but his lust and desire for her were still a part of him. He handled his cock as much as he could all day long. When he did, he could still feel lust but had a soft cock, not a hard-on.

He finished the project, checked the camera, and connected his phone and tablet to their chargers for the night.

He leaned back in his desk chair and stroked his flaccid cock, enjoying the stimulation of his testicles as he bounced them against the seat cushion of the chair he used when writing at his desk. He'd been doing that for years.

As he began to relax, he wondered if she would ever recall their frequent pleasure of oral sex.

Each morning, she forgets their oral sex from the night before and wants to sleep more when he has approached her in the recent past.

Alzheimer's had robbed them of so much that he'd grown accustomed to sleeping even when his lust had been raised by a conversation she'd forget. More frequently, she wanted to sleep instead of having oral sex.

He closed up the house for the night and entered the bedroom. She was lying on her side, sound asleep. He wondered if he should ask again or presume she'd gone to sleep and would rather sleep. Gently, he woke her to ask for permission to wake her and perform cunnilingus.

She was agreeable, said she didn't need to pee, and went back to sleep. He woke her again, having brushed his teeth and finished his nighttime ablutions. He ran a warm face cloth over his face and re-warmed the washcloth. He woke her again, uncovered her, and touched her thigh with the warm, wet cloth.

She rolled onto her back and flopped her knees apart with her feet together. She moaned and pushed her vagina into the warm washcloth as he wiped her vagina and ass. He was acclimated to the darkness but could see only shades of black, so he decided to forgo the camera. He cleared a place for his knees and elbows, leaned in, and smelled her vagina's unique musky aroma.

Nearly weeping from the memories, he asked her, "Do you want to do this?"

"Yes, I want to feel your tongue against my clitoris, please, Honey."

To be sure, he asked her, "Is it your duty somehow to do this?"

She replied, "It has never been my duty to have you eat my cunt. Never. It has been trying when you wanted to do it, and I had not showered, but there was never a 'Duty' to allow it."

He had her reposition her body so he had access to her easily and comfortably. He'd helped her get comfortable.

Positioning his hands under her thighs, he pushed her knees back toward her face. He could not see, but he knew that would roll her pussy upward and open. In the darkness, he saw the dark of her untrimmed pubic hair forming a target for his face.

When his face struck her pubic hair above the hair-covered long folds of her outer labia, she moaned in delight. (A presumption of delight on his part based upon their past).

Her moan deepened and ended soon when he lifted his head and enjoyed the flow of her moisture and the aroma he'd grown to love for the nearly thirty-five years they'd known sex together.

He swept his tongue downward until he was at the end of her vaginal crease, striking her wetness oozing from about the center on the way down. He licked upward but could not penetrate through the covering of pubic hair. He was barely able to reach into her opening to the nectar she was oozing. He knew she was spread wide open because he had pushed her knees nearly to the sheets up beside her head. He could feel the heat and smell her vagina, but he couldn't get his mouth past her crop of hair.

She was then grasping her legs by placing her arms inside her thighs. He assisted her by pushing her thighs farther apart. Still, he couldn't gently slide his tongue through her dense and tangled pubic hair.

Knowing that if she used a razor to thin or, better yet, shorten her pubic hair, he could provide better stimulation for her, he resolved to ask her to let him shorten her hair for the next time. But for now, he was going to have to make do.

Deciding to part her hair, he swept a thumb upward and then downward in her vagina. She was soaked through and through, and without any more hesitation, he dropped his face onto her clitoris. She rocked her hips against their arms and pushed with her vagina, raising her inner labia to his tongue.

Sucking her moisture with his mouth, stroking her clitoris with his tongue, kissing her labia one by one from top to bottom, her hips pushed again and again against his face, and they each moaned softly.

He asked her, "Can you relax and cum on my face?"

Though distorted by her excitement, her reply was soft: "I have been cumming since you first spread me open with your arms."

He then placed his face as deep into her vagina as he could force it and began to eat her. He kissed, chewed, licked, sucked, rubbed, and massaged with his tongue, thumbs, fingers, beard, face, and hair. He was pushing, and she was assisting in getting her legs and knees as far up toward her head as was possible.

Continuing to rape her dignity, he spread her open with his fingers. He licked the sides of her opened canal and rubbed his beard up and down her wide-spread vagina. His neck began to fatigue, so he changed positions to insert a thumb, which he had made slick with his saliva, into her cunt.

Again, she pushed so that his hand was tightly forced against her. That caused his fingers to wrap around and above her clitoris. While his thumb was pumping into her with the web between his thumb and forefinger jamming repeatedly and steadily against the top of her vagina. He could feel there was space in her vagina beyond the end of his thumb but couldn't reach what he thought of as the bottom of her clitoris, often called, he thought, the G Spot.

He fucked her like that with his thumb as she seemed to become more active in searching for her pleasure. Fatigue took over, and he tried to insert first one finger, then two, and finally failed to get three jamming into her.

He was certain he could give her more pleasure, but her legs gave out, and her stamina seemed to be satisfied, so he removed his hand and sucked the wetness from her pussy, crotch, and where it had run down across her ass.

She exhaled a big breath and seemed satisfied, so he gently rubbed over her entire crotch and mound and slowly withdrew from her.

He moved to lie beside her. They held hands.

After their breathing had settled to a normal rhythm, he asked her, "Was that okay?"

"More than." She replied.

She went to sleep as he lay there thinking about the joy she gained and hoped that by tomorrow, she would remember the apparent joy she'd experienced and want him to do it again. He was still full of lust yet unable to attain an erection. Encircling his scrotum with a thumb and forefinger, he stroked himself, applied lubricating gel, and stroked himself for an hour in the dark but never reached a point of what he knew as satisfaction.

Eventually, he nodded off and awoke to the chill of the early morning rolling through the open doorway from the backyard.

He rose, turned on the shower, warmed it, sat on the shower bench, and pointed the narrow force of the handheld nozzle against his balls. Not getting adequate stimulation, he used an anal probe in an attempt to stimulate his prostate, but it was to no avail. Cleaning the probe and soaping his hands, crotch, ass, and the probe, he dried off, returned to bed, and slept four hours.

He got up and took another shower, so he could again stroke the anal probe against his ass. He couldn't stimulate his prostate, and so again, he gained no satisfaction. He cleaned up the shower, the probe, and himself. Unable to sleep, he dressed and left her sleeping soundly.

Just as he was sitting down at the kitchen table with his coffee, Melody silently opened the back door into the kitchen. She closed and locked it behind her, closed the shade and the one over the kitchen sink, and turned off the kitchen ceiling light. The range hood light was all the light in the kitchen.

Sitting across the kitchen, he watched her in the diminished light push a button on her phone. Music with a heartbeat rhythm began to play, and she began to sway. The collected effect had his desire boiling and roiling to the top. He was on the edge of spewing his come on the floor.

He regained control but was mesmerized by the beat of deep bass and drums that rumbled as much as thumped. The beat-matched her pelvic movements and again enticed his arousal to the top. She unzipped him, released the stud holding his pants closed, and then pulled them past his feet.

She dragged her face and fingernails up his calves. As she licked and scratched behind both knees while raising his feet above her head, he had tight fists full of the sheet in both hands. Lying on his back, holding his ankles, she held him spread as far as she could reach; she leaned down and licked his ass. His cock was bouncing to his accelerated heartbeat, and then he knew he was over the edge.

Over the edge, he couldn't find his voice to warn her,  but it wasn't necessary because she wasn't going to let go.

His cock head was held snuggly at the crown by her lips, and his cum was about a tablespoon by volume. She easily contained the slime and loved the flavor as she swished it in her teeth like mouthwash before she kissed him and loosened the glob into his mouth.

Not prepared, he almost spat out the mess, but he realized what she was doing, and he kissed it back to her. They played with the saliva and come ball and finally seemed to divide it. They both swallowed their half of the cum cud.

He had experienced snowballing and liked the flavor of his cum. He always felt emotionally closer to whoever he did it with.