In an earlier story I told how my wife and I clicked together in high school, went through the usual stages of making out and then to masturbating each other and then to oral sex and then to genital copulation. I guess it worked because we were married for 38 years. And the sex stayed very active the whole time. We both seemed to like oral. She probably had my cock in her mouth as often as her vagina and I likely had my tongue working on her clit just as often.
We never had children. At first we thought we were lucky but when we finally got around to wanting some and checking, I was the one. I shot blanks. I shot a lot of them but they contained only a few, weak sperm. By then, we just pretty much accepted things and ended up enjoying sex just as much as ever, perhaps more with no thoughts of pregnancy involved.
Along the way, after about five years or so of marriage, we bought a house. About fifteen years later, a couple moved into the neighborhood and had a baby girl. They were a mismatched couple, forever fighting. She was nuts and he an alcoholic. Their little girl, Diane, grew up in our house almost as much as her own. She was sort of a replacement for the child we never had. Then, after 38 years of marriage, Ellie died. Diane was fifteen. She was an invaluable help in getting me through our mutual grief.
Three years later, at eighteen, almost ready to graduate high school,Diane came to me for advice on sex. I was very hesitant. She had seen a lot of sex on the internet and decided to try it with her boyfriend. It was not a good experience. Now she wanted to know how to go about getting the good sex she knew existed. I had to admit sex was great and had been for Ellie and me for years. I went through every bit of logic trying to help her. Get her current boyfriend to try more things, which failed. Find a new boyfriend. And that caused her to suggest that I be the one. I knew about good sex, I could let her experience it also.
Truthfully, it scared me a little. Partly because it seemed all wrong and I had given up thoughts of sex after Ellie died and partly because, down inside, I wanted to. She's a lovely young girl, great body. I made every argument I could against it, basically saying she needed a young man not an old fogie like me, old enough to be her grandfather.
Anyway, it ended up that we made love over and over for about five months until she went off to college. We both loved it. The story ended with me accepting that I was back to being a celibate widower when someone came to the door. It was a very cute, little blonde, extremely well built and chipper like a cheerleader. She said she was a friend of Diane's and had bad sex several times with her boy friend and Diane suggested that she come see me. She asked to come in.
This girl, Chelsea, is like a figure in every man's wet dreams. Gorgeous. And wanting to experience really great sex. Actually anxious to. I went through the same arguments I had with Diane months earlier. Maybe she should talk to her boyfriend, get him to try different things. It turns out that almost stereotypically, the cheerleader was dating the jock. And he wasn't about to lick a stinky cunt, he could get all the ass he wanted and didn't need her. She then tried another guy in her class, the opposite of a jock,and he had problems getting erect ( she thinks maybe he's gay and hasn't admitted it yet, even to himself). So here she was. Definitely ready. She even shoved a finger into her and put it in front of my face to show me that she was already wet. I couldn't help myself, I took her hand and held it while I sucked on her finger. She tasted delicious.
We ended up naked in the bedroom. I did with her what I had with Diane, kneeling on the floor next to the bed with her sitting on the edge and her legs over my shoulders while I got a really serious taste of that lovely, young, juicy pussy. I told her she had a beautiful pussy because she did. Fairly slight amount of blonde hair above her slit, with the slit actually being in the middle of what was almost a pink powder puff. A little swollen area that I had to pull open with my fingers to get to the tastes and shapes and moisture inside. The best looking one I had ever seen.
She ended up going nuts, yelling and her hips jumping, her legs waving around and closing on my head. I just kept eating her until she had a second orgasm. I knew some women claim they aren't multi-orgasmic and I wanted to make sure. This, the third female sex partner in my life, like the previous two, was certainly multi-orgasmic. After the second flow of her very tasty fluid, I slid up over her and shoved my cock into her. Tight. So tight as to almost hurt. I had to edge my way in a little at a time. She had her legs around my waist. In the process of pushing into her, I also shoved her back onto the bed, my climbing on as I pushed my way fully in and then began slowly fucking her, pulling out and pushing in.
I didn't think I could last long, having gone a couple months without sex, but the experience of being with this luscious girl must have make me priapic enough to get her to another screaming orgasm before I shot off inside her.
It took me a short while but I got it up again and we fucked again, lasting long enough to get into a second position for her to orgasm a second time before I did again, pretty much finishing me for hours. I told her a nineteen year old could probably last longer and get back up again quicker and more often than me. But she seemed way over the top, ecstatic, happy, smiling and praising the whole experience and wanting to know if she could come back tomorrow. Which she did, and the next tomorrow and the next.
I'm 62. I still go to work five days a week. I still need to shop for things, maintain my house and property. For several months, I was spending so much time in bed with Chelsea that I was actually pressed to get around to everything that needed being done. Besides, I knew this was all wrong. I shouldn't take up all the time of a young, vibrant girl. She needed to find someone closer to her own age and she wouldn't if she spent all her spare time in bed with me.
I had gone to the same nursery for years, buying plants for our home and garden. Over the years, the owner's little boy had grown up and was now sharing in the running of the place while he started college. I looked at him and saw a pleasant, good looking, healthy, well built after years of work outdoors, young man. Perfect for Chelsea. She and I had talked often, of course, in addition to fucking a lot, and I knew that she intended to finish college and wasn't interested in romance and love for several years, just good sex. Why not Jimmy, the nursery guy? But how do I do this? I decided to just be honest and straight forward.
