Young Woman with Older Man

Chapter 14

Taking back control from Gwen by giving he what she wants

After a while, she made me feel that I was not a guy made to feel lucky to fuck her but a guy that just had a job to do. Suddenly feeling used and abused by her, powerless in her control, I had better fuck her hard and fuck her good. Only, too tired to take the lead, she wore me out and, now I just wanted to quit and go to sleep. I was done. I was finished. I was just so tired.

"Hey, old man!" She shook me awake. "What are you doing, old man, sleeping on me? Wake up, old man, wake up."

Normally, if it was a young guy calling me an old man, as was the case with Lynn's old boyfriend, John, he'd be drinking through a straw in a hospital room. Yet, Gwen was a young woman and a beautiful woman at that. Instead of hurting my ego by poking fun at my age, she sexually emasculated me. It was obvious to me that I couldn't slap her ass painfully enough or fuck her hard enough to please her.

With me still sleeping, she lifted my head up by my hair and slapped me hard across the face. Maybe, she was into this sadomasochism shit, but I surely wasn't. If she slapped me across the face again, she was about to find out how really hard I can slap her. Whereas, I wanted to make love, she wanted me to beat her, and if I wasn't going to beat her, then she was going to try and beat me. At that point tired of playing her games of pain and torture, I was ready to go out to the car and get the tire iron from out of my trunk and take it to her head a couple of times.

"How's that, Gwen? Is that hard enough for you?" I imagined myself saying, as I bounced my tire iron off her head.

"Harder," I imagined her saying with me running out of my house naked and screaming mad with her running behind me. "Where are you going old man? You can't run away. Get back here and beat the piss out of me before fucking me to death."

I grabbed her wrist when she reached back ready to slap me again and pinned her arms back on the bed. I kissed her hard and then bit her nipple even harder, afraid that I might bite it off. Instead of screaming out in pain, she loved it. Suddenly, as if I gave her a shot of adrenaline, she came alive. I thought about rolling her over and sticking my cock up her ass. She'd probably love that too, so long as I didn't lubricate her first. Yet, I'm not the anal type of guy. I prefer facing my women when I'm having sex with them. I mean no offense to those who love anal sex, but anal sex is just not for me.

I struggled with the thoughts of slapping someone who looked so beautiful. The way she looked made me want to kiss her not slap her. Where did this desire to be so physically brutalized and so roughly manhandled come from? Then, I remembered Lynn's boyfriend slapping her across the face. Now, I wondered what kind of upbringing these girls had. Maybe their father abused them. I suddenly visualized their father forcing them to shower naked in front of him, while he slapped their ass with a paddle.

After I bit her nipple, she was so aroused that she started blowing me again, when all that I wanted to do was sleep. Dear God, save me from Gwen. The last straw was when she was applying too much teeth to my cock. Maybe, some guys are into pain but, not my kind of sexual aphrodisiac, penis pain does nothing for me but hurt. I've not felt pain like that since Mary Elizabeth gave me a terrible blowjob on prom night, while wearing her braces.

"Hey, geez, easy with the teeth. That hurts, Gwen."

"Sorry," she said looking at me kind of funny, as if I was the weird one and she was the normal one. "All my other boyfriends like having their penis bitten."

Really? All of your other boyfriends? Just how many other penises have you bitten? And who are all your other boyfriends? Wolverines? Beavers? Rats? I wanted to say all of these thoughts, but I didn't dare. She was still a guest in my house, albeit a sexual guest. Besides, I didn't want to come off as a whiner, a crybaby, and as a man who couldn't take as much pain as she could give and obviously take. I didn't want to appear the wimpy guy that I apparently am and that she thinks I am, compared to Iron Miss Maiden Gwen.

Notwithstanding all the pain and suffering of having sex with Gwen, aside from the brutal beating, the eventual sex with her was more than pleasurable. Never would I have imagined in a million years that I'd be fucking Lynn's 23-year-old baby sister. Never would I have imagined in a million years that a 23-year-old would be so hot to fuck this 50-year-old body. Never would I have imagined in a million years that Lynn's sister was so fucked up and I was so out of touch by what the younger generation sexually wanted and what I was no longer able to give. Now a big hit in the retirement home, being that I was still able to drive at night, I couldn't wait to find my place on the porch in a rocking chair, while whistling at the woman my age with their tits hanging down to their waist and their stockings and panties bunched down around their ankles.

What the Hell! I decided that I'd play her game of sexual sadomachism and painful torture to see how far I could go. Being that she was here in my bed naked, willing and able, I was curious to see what happens, when I sternly complied with her every sexual desire and depraved whim.

'Wham!'

She jumped. She flinched. I got to her. I slapped her ass as hard as I could, so hard that I saw her wince in pain. Before she could react, before she could reach around behind her and rub her ass, or slap me, before she could stop me and tell me that slap was too hard and that slap was enough, I slapped her again and again and again.

'Wham! Wham! Wham!'

Nearly breaking my heart to do it, as if smashing a priceless vase against the wall, I slapped her perfectly round, fruit like firm, and exquisite pink ass again and again. After a half dozen hard slaps with my meaty palm, my hand hurt and her beautiful, white ass flaming, welted, red raw, I looked in her eyes to read her reaction.

The insane look on her face told me everything that I needed to know. Instead of crying in pain, instead of trying to hurt me back for hurting her, inflamed with passion, she was on sexual fire. She grabbed me around the neck and kissed me like she never me before. Never have I been kissed by anyone, including Lynn, with such lustful desire. Help me dear God. Save me from Gwen because I just turned on the sexual beast in her. Look out, run for you lives. The sexual monster is loose. I just aroused the sleeping sexual animal in her.

She grabbed my cock as she would a hammer and shoved it up her pussy, as if I was fitting a plumbing pipe in a hole that had a tight fit. There was nothing gentle about her inserting my cock up inside of her. She rammed it up there. Such a dirty girl, she was so sexually aggressive.

As soon as her lips locked onto mine and her tongue twirled around my tongue, already having learned from the last sexual experience with her, I squeezed her big tits as if I was juicing oranges. Tears came to her eyes and I felt her inhale with the pain. Thinking that I had won and she was finally submitting to my will and to the strong grip of my hands, I felt her withdraw and then return with more passion than before. Instead of her rejecting my rough assault to her body, she not only embraced my physical passion, she wanted more.

"Fuck me, Freddie," she said in a deep voice that made me wonder if there wasn't someone else in the room, a demon or the Devil himself. Expecting her head to spin around, while she vomited green, she continued her sexual verbal assault. "Fuck me, Freddie. Fuck me, hard. Slam that big, hard cock deep in my warm, wet pussy."

Ah, there it is. Pillow talk. As if I was Popeye and dirty, pillow talk was my can of spinach, that was all the dirty talk that I needed to slam my big, cock deep inside her pussy. Now eager to please her beaver and really pound her mound, no longer a wussy, I was really fucking her pussy. Over and over again, slamming her clam, my Viagra drugged cock parted her pussy lips and drove itself deeper and deeper inside of her. Finally, I was happy to seal this sexual deal.

For someone so sexually experienced, she was still so tight. I had her moaning and wiggling her proud ass within a few minutes. Then, she started returning my humps and really started humping me. If there was a Gold medal in the Olympics for humping, Gwen would win it. I could hear them playing her song from Transylvania, Romania, while she stood on the podium with her gold humping medal around her neck and humping the judges.

She humped me hard, very hard, but I humped her back even harder, even bouncing the top of her head off the headboard of the bed. I humped her so hard that I was afraid I was going to break a bone or crack open her skull or definitely, at the least, break my bed. The harder that I humped her, the harder that she humped me back and the tighter was her grip around my back with her legs. She rode me bareback like a bucking bronco. She dug her fingernails so deep in my back that I could feel myself bleed.

Finally, after a two hour long, first time sexual marathon with Gwen that made me get up, pee like a racehorse, put my head between my legs and take some deep breaths, check my pulse and blood pressure, and drink a quart of water, once it ended, we slept like people who had been up for 72 hours, while walking through the hot desert in search of water. Water...water...water. Finally, after finding an oasis and filling our bellies with water, we collapsed from exhaustion.

I remember the old days, when I could make love for four or five hours and cum three and four times in a sexual session. I remember the old days, when getting laid by women, such as, Lynn, Jamie, and Gwen were just figments of my fertile imagination, while jerking off alone in my room to an old issue of Playboy magazine. I remember the old days, when I was more prepared physically to endure such a sexual marathon, as I just did, without having any adverse effects and without having to have the help of Viagra and the testosterone supplement, Andro-Gel.

Now, for me, at my age, (cough, wheeze, hack), feeling as if my heart is about to explode, two hours and cumming once, maybe twice, are all that I can endure. After that, I start getting cramps in my legs, spasms in my back, and get nauseous and headachy. Suddenly, needing to buy a rocking chair, I yearned for the days when I can relax with a rousing game of Shuffleboard or Bridge, while making small talk filled with innuendoes aimed at someone's sexy but elderly wife.

Actually, now that I'm older, I'm embarrassed to admit it, maybe my sexual life, as I once knew it, is over. After two hours of hard humping and forceful fucking, I begin to get bored and my mind wanders, while thinking of other things, politics, gas prices, and baseball. Yes, there, I wrote it. Bored with sex with a woman more than half my age, I'm chagrinned to write that I'm not the pervert that I used to be and still think I am. Egad, I'm a normal, aging baby boomer who believes his age is the same as his level of maturity, which stopped when I started drinking huge amounts of alcohol in my twenties. After two hours of having hot sex with a woman who is too perfect to imagine she's real, unbelievably and admittedly, I get tired, I get sleepy, and I get bored. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Suddenly, I yearn for dialogue, conversation, and a few belly laughs with a woman who's my age. I wished the woman lying next to me was one who still dreams of Elvis, remembers the Beatle invasion, knows the sound of a Chevy 427, recalls the time when I could run to the corner store and buy a quart of milk, a loaf of bread, a pack of cigarettes, the newspaper, and get back eleven cents change from a dollar and use that to buy two candy bars, a snickers and M&M's or a soda and a bag of chips. Suddenly, I wanted a woman who likes me for who I am, and who's a widow or has an ex-husband and grown children, and (gasp) sagging tits, and stretch marks.

After two hours of sexual intercourse, I just wanted it to end and I wanted her to go away, so that I can sleep. After having two hours of wild sex with Gwen, I'm thinking about going over to the other side, turning gay, and marching in the gay parade. After two hours of sex, I wished there was another guy in the room who could take over where I left off.

"Okay, Jesse, it's your turn. Get in there and good luck to you. And remember, slap her high, slap her low, and slap her hard."

After two hours of fucking, feeling, pinching, pulling, touching, hitting, licking, and sucking, I start wondering about other things. Gee, the Red Sox are playing tonight. I wonder how they're doing.

"Hey, Honey, would you mind if I put the game on low, while you blow me and I beat the shit out of your ass?"

"Buchholz has a no hitter going into the ninth inning. He just needs to get out three more Baltimore Orioles batters to make baseball history, as the first Red Sox rookie to ever throw a no hitter."

Oh, yeah, that would go over real big, if I verbalized my need to watch a Red Sox baseball game during sex. I can see her blowing me now, sucking my cock with all the skill and determination that she can muster to get me off, so that she can put me to sleep. Instead of having sex with my decrepit body, I can see her content to do other things that she really wants to do, such as read a hot romance novel or calling in four or five sailors to have a gangbang, instead of having tepid sex with me.

"Honey, bob your head the other way and more to the side, instead of bobbing your head up and down, you're blocking my view of the baseball game."

"With two outs in the ninth inning and two strikes on the batter, Buchholz just needs one more strike. Can he do it? Will he make baseball history?"

Normally an early riser awakening at 5am each morning, it was 9am when I finally opened my eyes. I looked over at Gwen and she was dead to the world. I ogled her naked body for a few minutes before getting up to pee again. I never peed as long and as much, since I turned fifty.

Damn I'm one lucky son-of-a-bitch to have someone like her sleeping naked in my bed next to me. I was still in disbelief that I had just fucked Lynn's 23-year-old, baby sister. Damn, even with her lying on her stomach with her head buried in the pillow, she's so shapely. Damn, she is outrageously hot. Damn, she is gorgeous, I thought as she turned over to lie on her side. Damn, I'm tired. Damn, I'm old. Damn, I'm sore. I'm just glad she's only staying for the weekend. I can't even imagine week of Gwen, never mind a lifetime of her.

Imagine a Playboy Playmate, yeah, the one who wins the Playmate of the Year...only hotter and younger. That's Gwen. That's what Gwen looks like and here she is lying beside me...naked. Are you jealous? Well, you ought to be because this is a once in a lifetime sexual encounter that any man would give his right arm and leg to do her if he could. Only, I was done. I was exhausted. Out of my league, she wore me out.

Gwen is the type of woman that sexual dreams are made of and that erotic web sites are created over. Gwen is the super siren of every man's sexual fantasy and lustful desire. Gwen is the Jenna Jameson of the everyday man's average world. Think of the word sex and you'll think of the name, Gwen. They're synonymous. Any man would sell his soul to spend an evening with Gwen. Only, I no longer wanted her. I had enough of her. I was way too old for her. Where Lynn made me feel younger, Gwen made me feel older.

Notwithstanding how exhausted I felt now, the memory of this sexual union will last me the rest of my life. Years from now, when I'm alone and lonely and jerking off in the bathroom, the recalled vision of Gwen and her voluptuous, young, flawless body will fill my mind with her firm round ass, full shapely tits, pink areolas with puffy nipples, and shaved juicy pussy. Yep, I can see it all now, me in my late fifties having not had sex in a few years, except for that young, female hitchhiker that I picked up and who gave me a blowjob for a lift to the next city and who stole my wallet (that's another story for another time), remembering my weekend with Gwen will give me enormous pleasure.

Yet, here she is now naked and dead asleep beside me. I really need to make the most of this time with her. I really need to make this the most memorable memory ever, even though it already is. Enjoying the moment, I stared at her perfect, naked body, until I could no longer keep my eyes open. She was so very hot and so very young, but I was so very sated and so very tired. She did me in with that non-stop fucking, kissing, and fucking.

I'm not the man that I used to be. It's apparent to me now that I'm way too old for her. She'd kill me but, oh boy, what a way to die. I threw my arm around her cupping her big tit in the palm of my hand and spooned her with my semi-erect penis growing soft and resting in the deep recess of her perfect ass, as I quickly fell back to sleep.

Abruptly, early that morning, too early to be awakened, after having a night as hot as I had, I was awakened by a car beeping its horn in my driveway. A last ditched effort to arouse us from our slumber, after we apparently didn't answer the telephone and/or the doorbell. At first, it sounded as if it was far off in the distance, gradually coming closer and closer, and gradually offending my ears and waking me up from my sound sleep. Then, with the dogs barking her arrival, the hectic, panicked sound of the car horn filled my brain with loud static in the way of an endless air raid siren warning me of impending danger and doom of bombs dropping down from the sky.

Feeling my age now, while wishing for a Ben-Gay massage with a beer chaser, I crawled out of bed all bent over and cramped. Still tired and annoyed that someone's car horn woke me up, I was so freaking grumpy and felt so freaking old. Geez, I thought, I need to have sex with women my own age because these Olympian athletes, first Lynn, and then Jamie, and now, Gwen are killing me. I'm just glad that Lynn only had the one sister. Gees, perish the thought, but imagine if Gwen had a identical twin named Gayle.

I need to face reality and admit that I can't run with the young bitches anymore. Too tired to roam too far from home, this big, old dog just wants to sleep. Now, who the Hell is that out there beeping their damn car horn? It sounds like it's in my driveway.

I peered out the window to look for the asshole leaning on his horn. The car was in my driveway. Holy shit! Recognizing the car, God answered my prayers because the cavalry is here. As if the Navy fleet was in, I couldn't be happier to welcome my unexpected, surprise visitor.

To be continued...