Sex After Sixty 1

Anyone having sex is 18 or older

This is my submission for the Valentine Day contest. Enjoy and please vote.

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I have spent many an afternoon in the woodshop alongside the garage, I built mostly things the kids or grandkids wanted, bedroom sets, dressers, nightstands, small occasional tables, a hutch here or there. Stuff like that. I was presently working on an item for my sons next door neighbor, he wanted a gun case with sliding glass lockable doors capable of displaying twelve guns, and he wanted it made from Hickory. Wood harder than a woodpeckers lips.

It was late in the afternoon, the mailman generally went through between 3:15 and 3:45, when I would see him go by it was time to quit for the day. After gathering the mail I turned back to the driveway, meandering toward the house, not looking forward to another evening alone. That's how most evenings went in the eleven months since my Eileen had passed on, retiring at 62 we thought we had many years ahead of us, it wasn't to be.

I recall the day before she left me forever. I'd had heart surgery two years prior and the meds I had to take left me basically impotent without the little pills that keep you hard long enough to complete intercourse. Eileen had taken it all in stride, if she was feeling particularly amorous, she would put those two little wonder working pills with my others in the morning. I would let her know when I took them knowing in about an hour we'd be rockin the bed springs once again, this was our routine about every six to seven days.

That day was no different, I'd taken them at 12:30, which meant we'd jump in the shower together about one fifteen. I always washed her and she me, the last thing she did every time we showered together was make sure the soap had been rinsed from my body, bend over and stuff my cock in her mouth. After five or six bobs of her head she would smile and tell me *come on a my house big boy*, then step out and begin drying. I hated the steam bath she loved and would immediately lower the water temp as I washed my hair and beard. By the time I stepped from the shower and dried she would have her back against the headboard with two pillows behind her, a hand towel beneath her butt and a smile as wide as her legs were spread.

She would extend her arms and wiggle her fingers as though she was inviting me into her lair. She'd had hip surgery a few years prior and sometimes it hurt to keep her legs open and bent, we solved that by getting a pair of four inch high flat foam wedges to put under her feet. With her legs open and her arms extended she would softly caress my scalp as she guided me into her tussle of soft tiny hair, which by this time in our lives was hard to see since it was now completely gray.

Since spontaneity had been stripped from our love life I always ate her before we made love, I was never sure I would last long enough for her to climax vaginally, so I made sure she did orally, and there were still times she would have an orgasm with me inside her as well. Lowering my face, I knew that sweet erotic aroma, my Eileen always smelled fresh and musky at the same time, how I loved swirling my tongue through that tidy little jungle. Her legs were no longer toned, they were sixty three for goodness sake, we did walk enough though that she didn't have saddle bags or droopy skin, it was just old and stretched from age.

I knew exactly where to go to get her off within a few minutes but chose to nibble on the labia and kiss the insides of her thighs. I was going to put a hickie on her right thigh when she slapped my head.

"Don't do that you old fool, I won't have a hickie I'll have a hematoma for crying out loud. Just pay attention and do what you're down there to do."

I looked in her eyes, "Push that pussy up so I can lick it."

As she raised her hips I stuck my tongue directly into her vagina and began to move it in and out. My face had been between these legs so many times over the past 44 years I knew exactly where everything was located. Though she always got off on my tongue there were days I knew her climax was going to be harder than usual, on those days her clit was swollen and enlarged, the size of a marble and hard as one. Today was one of those days, by the time she was ready to fall over the edge I held on for dear life, her hips were bucking, she was uttering a constant barrage of Uhhs and Ohhs followed by Oh my's until she started to come down. The last thing she did was clamp her legs together tight against my ears, stayed that way ten or fifteen seconds, then let her legs flop wide open.

Eileen loved to tease, "I married you because you were the cutest boy in town, you and your dad were milking 60 head so I knew there'd always be money to pay the bills, now I keep you around for that tongue. My God man you drive me crazy with that tongue."

You may have wondered about the hand towel earlier, my wife often came with a fervor, which means the sheets and mattress would be soaked with girl cum, easier to toss a hand towel into the washer than a set of sheets. I rose to wash my face and beard as she relaxed, by the time I returned she was laying on the bed tummy first. I knew what to do, we'd done this hundreds of times over the years, I sat with my back against the headboard while she positioned herself between my legs and slowly guided my dick into her mouth. She generally sucked me three to four minutes before I wanted some of that delectable pussy, from time to time she'd tell me no and make me cum in her mouth telling me afterward that she was my little cocksucker.

As I whispered *I'm ready* she lifted off, maneuvered to a position where one of the pillows was under her abdomen and her pussy wide open, waiting for me to fill it with what she still called baby juice. Our love making at times was fast and frantic, almost crazed like, that last time it was slow, deep, we talked as we screwed, sweet nothings, how good it felt making love, at one point she reminisced about the first time we'd made love in the back of my Olds Cutlass. I was going slow and using every bit of cock I had to saw in and out of her warm love tunnel.

"Your deep today Lou, you haven't hit bottom like this in a while. Keep it up though, I can feel a climax brewing. No, don't go faster, just push it deep inside me."

I sensed she was on the edge when she spoke. "You're close, I can feel it, your cock is getting bigger like it always does. Let's try to cum together baby, cum for me Lou, cum in my pussy."

That was all it took, she arched her back jamming her pussy tight to my pelvis as I shot every ounce I had inside her. It was so strong I felt it in my knees, I let out a bellow like I hadn't in weeks, then flopped backward on the bed exhausted. We found our way into each other's arms before we drifted off for about ten minutes.

As we woke, she kissed me and smiled, "Thanks for the afternoon delight, it's exactly what I needed."

I laughed, "Pretty bad when ten minutes of afternoon delight leaves you exhausted for a half hour."

She was snuggled in my arms that night before we adjourned to our respective side of the bed, sadly it was the last time we'd ever do that. As I woke, I knew something was wrong, it was still dark, but I knew something wasn't what it was supposed to be. Not hearing her soft almost nonexistent snore I put my hand over her mouth, when I felt no breath, I touched her skin and found it cold. The kids and I got through the memorial ceremony, they stayed a few days and then had to get back to their lives, perfectly understandable.

I mourned and pined for my lifelong girlfriend, we'd had forty plus years together, but life goes on. Eileen and I had an agreement we'd chosen years prior, if ever one of us was in that tunnel of life's end where the white light appears and we saw Jesus, we weren't coming back. It comforted me knowing she'd gone quietly in her sleep, the postmortem said it was a brain aneurysm. Eileen would have been upset with me if I'd let myself go and be burdened down with that sadness of losing my life partner, so I got busy in my workshop.

Standing at the door ready to go in I heard my name being called, "Hello Lou, haven't seen you at the senior center since Eileen passed. Are you doing okay?" It was an older lady who lived in the apartments three doors down, they had at one time been overrun with nere-do-wells that had since been driven out. It was mostly young families and a few elderly singles that occupied the three fourplexes now, as she walked across the lawn, I chucked the mail on the table inside the door and went to greet her.

She lived in a two-bedroom unit, Maureen had been friends with Eileen and I before my late wife died. Recently her daughter Helen had moved in with her after finishing college, she was working but not quite ready to break out on her own. We got to know them well through attending the neighborhood barbeques and holiday celebrations together, Eileen always said Maureen had a thing for me, I never saw it and thought nothing of her comments.

I asked Maureen how she was, all the stuff you ask and talk about to fill space because deep down inside you really don't have much to talk about. She was well, talked about her latest doctor visit, the things people talk about in later life, the very things you heard others talk about when you were young and swore you'd never say. How little we know when we still wear the clothing of our younger years.

She eventually got down to the reason she'd stopped, "I've baked some blueberry muffins, if my memory is correct, Eileen said that was one of your favorites. I thought maybe I would bring some down after supper and we could have dessert together. Does that sound alright?"

Later as I sat on the screened in front porch I watched Maureen walking toward my house, the sun was slowly setting which cast a soft orangish/yellow haze behind her, it was more like a silhouette walking toward me. As the setting sun shined through the dress it also provided me with a perfect view of her shapely body, breasts moving in her bra, the long legs and that little space at the top of her thighs as she strode my way. Opening the screen door I extended a hand to her as she ascended the steps, taking the plate of muffins and gesturing to a padded lounger I asked if she'd like coffee. Returning with a cup for each and napkins we enjoyed our dessert together.

Maureen was quiet, but in an elegant sort of way. Her light chocolate colored skin accentuated her tall and slender frame, her chest was not big, but certainly adequate. I liked the way the hips flared into her voluptuous figure, her torso was not long which made her legs look as though they went to her armpits. Maureen was easily a B cup, a solid B cup probably bordering on a C, I'd seen her in a tee shirt without a bra in the past, though she was sixty one there was no noticeable droop. They weren't solid and pointing straight forward any longer, but they didn't hang either. I liked watching her walk, she was one of those people who walk on the balls of their feet which made her tits bounce and jiggle with every step, her dress ended a few inches above her knees and had no sleeves.

When I handed her the coffee she smiled and made sure her fingers grazed mine. I had learned through other conversations in the past that she had been widowed in her late forties and decided her kids and grandchildren deserved her attention more than having to try and train another man. I understood her situation, the few times I'd thought of another wife I also thought how would she ever know what it took Eileen and I forty plus years to figure out about each other. Besides, who wants a sixty three year old man who can't maintain a hardon without pills? Nah, probably better to stay single, take my pills and beat off in the shower once a month, if that.

With the sun dipping below the horizon and the night air moving in I noticed Maureen shiver, I asked her to lean forward in her chair, took the afghan off the back and draped it across her shoulders. She pulled it tight to her body and smiled.

I smiled back, "What? Why are you looking at me?"

She smiled back, "I'm taken aback at how handsome you are, you're what, mid-sixties, somewhere in there. Eileen always said you were a good husband and lover, I'll bet you still miss her greatly."

"Maureen, why would Eileen talk about my capabilities as a lover?"

"Oh Lou, you'd be amazed what four women talk about over a cup of coffee or watching grandkids on the swings. Women aren't like men, we do more than grunt, fart, belch and ask for another beer when we're together. Like I said, you'd be amazed at the topics discussed over coffee."

I sat silently for another three minutes or more before I spoke.

"You're shittin me, right? Eileen would never have talked about our love life."

"Nope, I'm telling you the truth. I know you take the little *magic pills* as she called them and that she never felt cheated because the spontaneity of love making had been ripped from your lives. Said she'd rather have you taking pills and making love to her than not taking pills, thus ending a love life you both enjoyed. Eileen told me once that you loved her more than you loved your pride, THAT, my friend, is an admirable thing."

I was dumbstruck. I never in a hundred years imagined Eileen would have talked about our love life, but I suppose when you're aging, and things are changing rapidly, you begin to share your thoughts with others in a different light. Guys don't typically do it, we're too full of ourselves to be vulnerable. No, we stupidly hold everything inside where the only one who sees it is our spouse, after all, we have to be in control. Or so we're led to believe from little boy onward. It took several years of marriage before I came to the realization that Eileen was my partner, my support, my most ardent cheerleader and not my enemy. Once I got ahold of and embraced that reality our lives took an immediate upswing, including our bedroom activities. I remembered my dad telling me that what I won her with I'd have to keep her with, thank God I remembered before it was too late

I think it was me who gained the most from my self-induced revelation, she could afford to be more free in our physical relationship, she began to enjoy teasing me with lingerie and sexy suggestive underwear, adding different adventures to our bedroom Olympics. We had reached a point in our mutual trust and love for each other that we occasionally engaged in mild anal, no spanking or pain, if it didn't feel right, we abandoned the idea and carried on vaginally. Five or six times a year was the norm, I recall the night I found her in the middle of the bed, hands and knees, ass arched high, little black panties that were imprinted with *It's ass not glass, pound it hard*.

To say we had a rip roaring good time that night is an understatement. We both orgasmed hard making love anally, took a shower and spent another twenty minutes drilling a new mine vaginally before the dynamite finally exploded within our loins. How I missed my girl of forty plus years, yet here I am talking to a neighbor I don't know all that well about our love life. With the metaphorical door opened I made the decision to boldly walk through.

"Why is it so admirable? Seems to me that a guy admitting he needs the help of two little pills to feel like a man again is anything but admirable. Would you have wanted that for your late husband?"

"My late husband was one of those idiots too proud to do something like that, no, he'd have let his dick hang there and do nothing. He didn't care enough to keep himself healthy, he sure as hell wouldn't have cared enough to keep me satisfied in bed, especially if it wasn't spur of the moment wham, bam. Usually without a *thank you ma'am*, just roll or climb off and leave me with a mess between my legs. He died because he didn't care, he wouldn't have cared about my sexual needs either, never would he have taken those pills."

She was well spoken, articulate, interesting and fun, I needed to know more about her life. She had been a school teacher for over thirty five years, when she reached the age of fifty nine and a half and could draw off her investments as well as retirement she cashed in her chips and walked away.

"It was getting to be a thankless job anyway Lou, you weren't allowed to discipline or even hardly correct any longer. I was no longer in charge of what I taught, it was all in a manual you were expected to follow, it wasn't what I went to college for and it was time to get out. I moved here just before you guys did."

We'd been yammering for over two hours when I realized the time, "Well Maureen, we have certainly covered a lot of territory tonight, a good portion of which we probably never intended to talk about, but if you're okay with it so am I. I hate to be a party pooper, but I have a seven thirty dental appointment and I should take a shower before I hit the rack. I really did enjoy our chat, please stop by again, your good company."

I didn't see her for a few days until during an evening mid-week I was startled by sirens and flashing lights racing down the street, as I exited the front door I could see they were at the apartment complex, and it seemed they were at Maureen's building. I walked down but stayed out of the way, there were the dorks with phones on record making stupid statements about brutality and the rest of the more typical clichés. When I saw Maureen walking toward me, I felt a sense of relief.

"Maureen. Are you and Helen alright, were you in any danger? Do you know what's going on?"

"My daughter is at parent/teacher conferences and yes, I'm okay, not in any danger. Seems one of the thugs who used to peddle his drugs from apartment building C was back at it, when the neighbors reported them shit hit the fan. He wasn't going to go easily, and the two original officers called for backup."

"I see everybody with their phones out. Was it a racial thing?"

"Oh hell no, this fools as white as you are, some folks got nothing more to do than create chaos where there wasn't any. I don't know about you Lou, but I get tired of all this supposed social justice crap, it wasn't like that in our day. People weren't offended by every little flippin thing that came along."

I put my arm around her shoulder, gave her a side hug and a hip bump telling her I was glad she was safe. She returned the hip bump and chuckled at our interaction. We stood side by side in the dark taking in the scene, talking about this or that, making comments from time to time and talking with other residents on the street occasionally. As things were wrapping up, cop cars leaving and detectives taking over her daughter Helen drove up. After explaining what had occurred Helen seemed extremely agitated.

"Mom I don't want to stay here tonight, I'm scared. What if the other guys return and want to hurt us?"

Maureen looked at her, "Other guys, what other guys?"

The little girl who lived next to Maureen spoke, "That Alphonse guy and Ricky, they run the guys who sell drugs there."

Helen got a screwed up look on her face, as though to say why didn't I know these things. I sat on the curb gesturing the little girl to join me. Once she had I looked at her with a half smile.

"How do you know these guys, this Ricky and Alphonse?"

"I see them in the laundry area sometimes, they were always trying to hit on me. As soon as I told them I'm 13 they backed off, Alphonse saying something about jailbait. They've been in that apartment a couple months, how come no adults knew they were selling drugs?"

She had a very good point. Why didn't others know about their nefarious ways, and if they did, why did they turn the other way instead of reporting them. The young girl was nearly beside herself with fear, I stood and signaled an officer who then listened to what I'd just been told, stating he would inform the detectives. Going out on a limb, I mean WAY OUT, I offered Maureen and Helen to stay at my house overnight. They of course protested and balked at the idea, I put my hand up to signal for them to be quiet and spoke.