The Old Man's Gift

Saturday burst forth with radiant glory, promising warm temperatures and bare skin bikini babes to fulfill my fantasies. Although there were many more noteworthy challenges awaiting my attention around the house, I decided to grab one of my favorite sci-fi epics and indulge in a trip to the beach. The hour long drive along the back roads was relaxing in itself, and by the time my blanket was spread out on the cool sand and my water bottle was hidden in the only shady spot I could find, I was ready for some skillful observation into female fantasy fulfillment.

Several hours passed and the sun grew warm tanning my pale skin, but the number of beauties that emerged from their domestic habitats were admittedly lacking. Reasoning that Saturday was a day for the mall rather than the beach, I resolved to get fully involved in the text, and leave my sexual fantasies for some other outing. It was then the old man in weathered cutoffs and a Mickey Mouse T-shirt appeared on the horizon. He walked along slowly, poking at some of the washed up debris with a gnarly walking stick and seemed indifferent to the world about him until he stopped short of where I lay.

“Why’s a fine lad such as yourself laying alone here on such a beautiful day?”

I smiled at his apparent impertinence, and put my book down, careful not to lose my place. Looking up into his weathered face that half hidden in the brilliant sunlight, I shrugged.

“Seems to me, a fine lass might be a better companion than that there book.”

“It might, “I replied, “Seen any lately.”

He hesitated a moment before he shook his head negatively. “Don’t reckon too many have an interest in someone my age.” He sat down on the edge of the blanket with a heavy thud and grumbled. “Mind if I set a spell?”

“Not at all, what have you been up too?”

“Looking for the likes of you, I reckon,” he mused as he rubbed his unshaven chin. “Don’t get out much anymore on account of my rheumatism. There was a time when I chased every tail I could get my hands on, and I done caught quite a few. But that was back a spell, and the thought of catching one now makes me ache all over.”

“Must be tough,” I reasoned, half sarcastically.

“Yep,” he nodded as his eyes followed a young couple some ways off. “Reckon you’ve done your fair share too.”

I nodded. “Chasing isn’t my problem, catching is.”

He sat silently for awhile, swaying to and fro on his crossed legs. “What if I told you I got something that might help you outa your dilemna.”

“What - plastic surgery and steroids?”

“Naw, nothing like that; I used to have problems too, so I got me a job working as a janitor at one of those sex clinics where they was experimenting with pheromones and such, and did some mixin’ on my own and came up with this;” he held up a small vial containing something akin to Scope mouthwash.

“What is it?’

“I still don’t know, but it works like no tomorrow. Put a drop of this on their skin and women turn into nymphomaniacs for the better part of a day. Two drops damn near kills them. I put a drop under my tongue here like so. . .” and he tapped a small drop under his tongue “And they chase me like a Blue Light Special.”

“I don’t see any takers.”

“They’s all upwind.”

“Oh.” I smiled reassuringly while trying to stifle a grin. It seemed like he’d gotten a little more sun than he should of.

“Should get movin’ on,” he said after a few moments of uneasy silence. He paused once he found shaky footing and tossed the vial at me. “Try it out for yourself, I got gallons of it at home.”

“Uh thanks, I think!”

He waved without turning as he strolled back towards the waterline. I watched him curiously for a minute then gazed briefly at the vial before setting it next to my water bottle. I started to read again, but glanced up after the first page to see him further down the beach surrounded by several different women. I chuckled to myself and pondered upon his charisma. He’d likely be a charmer to most anyone. Turning back to the text, I read several more pages and failed to notice a crowd of women drag him into the underbrush.

Time waned into late afternoon and the folks that had sought respite at the ocean’s edge had thinned considerably. My skin was beginning to spout a rosy hue along my shoulders and my stomach began to growl menacingly so I figured it was time to head on back to my oven on four wheels and make a stop at one of my favorite hamburger slop houses about midway home. With a final look around, I gathered my stuff together and returned to the car, leaving the doors open for several minutes to clear the air before stepping in.

The vial tumbled from my blanket and into the sand as I threw it into the trunk. If it wasn’t for the pretty color, I probably would have left it where it lay, but half hoping that something good may come from it, I picked it up and started to toss it into the glove compartment. The lid was loose and I paused to tighten it before I sent it on its way unaware that several drops had collected around the rim and made their way onto my fingers. Once the car was aired out somewhat, I started her up and headed for the open road with only my trunks and a loose fitted nylon shirt with a tropical print. The wind through my hair was exhilarating with all the windows down, and Pat’s Kitchen appeared on the horizon before I knew it. You could smell the grease for miles.

Seating myself at one of the table clad in a yellow and white checkerboard tablecloth, I gazed at the only other patrons, an older couple enjoying their seafood salad in silence. The only waitress was a huge breasted Latino type with long black hair that shone in the afternoon sun. She had olive skin and deep brown doe eyes that were framed with wrinkles. She must have been a looker before time and gravity took hold. When she handed me the menu she paused, flared her nostrils, and became visibly nervous. I thought it was my breath at first, but it was something far more intimate as she leaned over and damn near knocked me out with one of her hooters.

“Could you help me get something from the storeroom,” she blurted.

“I guess.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me in through the employees entrance, kitchen, and into a small room next to the trash bins where she yanked my clothes off so quickly I barely missed them. In another instance her underwear were hanging from one of the catsup bottles where she had flung them and she was grinding her hairy bush against my torso with wild abandon. Within moments she let out a yelp that would awaken the dead while her whole body quivered like an epileptic with a grand mall seizure. For the first time in my sexual life, that up until then had been pretty limited, I experience a gushing female orgasm that flowed freely down my legs and into my tennis shoes.

“That’s enough foreplay,” she uttered breathlessly, as she commenced her second of a long series of pubic bone mashing orgasms that left me dazed, bruised, and much hungrier than when I had arrived. Self preservation can be a most forceful motivating factor when a skinny guy without an erection is having his torso continually pummeled by a middle aged momma. Seizing the moment when she was descending from another of her countless orgasmic plateaus, I rolled her off me and bolted through the restaurant buck naked on the way to the security of my seat belt in the car. I saw her come running after me in the rear view as I burned the last few miles of rubber off my tires.

It was nothing more than pure luck that got me into the garage without a police escort. All I could think of was how long would these effects last. With little time to prepare and no idea whatsoever as to how to use the potion effectively I began to panic until I remembered my girl friend Marne. Now Marne was a great companion and great to look at, but when it cam to dishing out she may as well have been a nun at the Vatican. Slipping into the house, I donned a pair of cut offs, my only other tropical print shirt, and a bottle of water, before I headed back out to the car. This would be the ultimate test for the old mans concoction.

I had scarcely knocked on Marne’s door when she opened it a crack. She was a sight for sore eyes, a pixie of sorts with short cropped fine blond hair, large crystal blue eyes, and a little upturned nose that reflected the devilish nature that dwelt within. Small breasted and petite, her skin was as white as snow as were her virtues. She could verbally spar with the best and leave them wondering what happened. I cherished our times together, as did others who tried to take liberties she would not allow. They all lay on the emotional heartbreak heap, while I remained, shaken but unstirred.

When her nostrils flared as she opened the door, the sweet and sassy girl I knew suddenly evolved into a savage lust-driven creature. I knew I was in trouble then and she wasn’t about to disappoint despite the presence of her Mother. Weathered and wrinkled, her Mother appeared, only momentarily, as the picture of domestication until her nose flared and her eyes grew wide. It was then I knew the true power of the potion. Turning for the door, I almost made a clean get away until the door knob got in the way.

Within moments my shirt was flying through the air and my cut offs were torn off. Marne began fisting my meat furiously, nearly tearing the skin off with every hammer like stroke while her Mom’s lavender douche filled my nostrils as her swollen pussy ground against my teeth. Frustrated with her futile attempts to gain an erection, Marne took me into her mouth and started sucking like an industrial strength vacuum while she ground her neatly trimmed bush against my toes. This wasn’t erotic, this was torture! I could barely breathe and lost most all the sensation below the belt line. They were driven, and for the better part of an hour, they had there way with me as I lay moaning from the rug burns on my butt.

At first I thought they were too involved to answer the phone, but finally, with a whimper, Marne dislodged herself and I was able to break free. Dispensing of all amenities, I wriggled out from under her Mom’s hairy crotch before grabbing the remnants of my cut offs and bolting for the car. I made it home in record time and stumbled into the shower where a careful assessment of my faculties ensued. Bruised but not broken, the hot water felt great until the sunburn on my shoulders began to protest. Grabbing every harsh chemical I could find, I scoured my hands, hoping to dislodge whatever traces of the old man’s elixir that remained resident until the phone rang. It was Marne.

“Can I come over for awhile,” her voice was sad with a hint of desperation.

“Uh, I don’t think so.”

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Now just what was I supposed to do? Here’s a beautiful girl craving my body, and I’m going to turn her down? If I elected to invite her over, would I survive her gentleness? What about her Mother? Do I look like someone who would turn down a once in a lifetime opportunity? Come to think of it, I looked like hell after a rainstorm (if there is such a thing).

“OK, but come alone - and drive carefully.”

A knock at the door came before I could set down the phone; she had used her cellular. Clad only in a wispy nightgown she threw her arms around me before I could close the door. Her kiss was full and passionate as her hands busied themselves with a mind of their own. Within moments, my bath towel had joined her gown in a heap on the floor. Her gentle yet forceful embrace stirred my willy into life and I knew she was true to her word. Relieved, I took her in my arms, and let my lips flow over the delicious skin that had fueled my fantasies for an eternity. She quivered and whimpered like a virgin, fondling my hardness lovingly as the scent of her essence filled my nostrils.

We slid to the floor in each other’s arms, and my lips locked onto the puffy nipples that were so firm and sensitive that she burst into an orgasm almost instantly. She reached between us, and caressed my hardness while bringing the throbbing head into the glistening fold of her arousal. As I began to ease into the smallest vagina known to man (or at least I thought it must be), she flooded my torso with her orgasmic cream and her back arched at a surreal angle towards the ceiling. Orgasmic spasms wracked her tiny body violently and kicked up her respiration a notch above critical. It was the most intense erotic scene I could have ever envisioned, and coupled with the contractions of her vaginal walls, I felt the intense tingling deep within the signaled my impending release.

She rolled me onto my back and lunged onto my torso as my seed began to erupt violently within her. Going over the edge again, she bathed me with her orgasmic fluids and let out a sobering wail as she collapsed upon me with a thud. I thought I’d killed her, until I saw her eyelids flutter back to life for an instant before she fell asleep in my arms. Exhausted and relieved I slept too, until her gentle touches brought me back to reality several hours later. We staggered into bed and explored our erogenous zones for the better part of an hour until we were once again in the throes of orgasmic overload. Too sore and tired to continue, we slept.

When I awoke to the midday sun, Marne was gone and I surmised the effects of the old man’s serum had worn off. Uncertain and hopeful, I knew the potion had fulfilled my wildest dreams while wreaking havoc on my tropical shirts. After a cleansing shower, I headed back to the beach with hopes of finding and thanking the old man for the timeless gift he had given. A young girl was huddled in a blanket, sobbing uncontrollably as the waves crashed menacingly amidst a darkening sky. I eased to her side and touched her quaking shoulder gently.

“What happened,” I implored genuinely.

“I think we killed him,” she blurted as she buried her face in her hands.

After a few moments her wailing settled into sobs and I was able to continue; “Who?”

She wiped her nose on the blanket and spoke in a far off voice; “Some old man. . .”

“Where is he?”

“They took him to County Medical. . .”

“Let’s go;” I grabbed her arm and almost threw her into the passenger seat as my heart rolled into my throat.

The drive back to town seemed to take forever, punctuated by every available red light and idiot driver to be found. By the time we hit the emergency entrance and screeched to a halt behind the now empty ambulance, the last of my patience had left for the coast. An orderly stepped out of the double doors and started yelling something I didn’t care to hear. Brushing him aside, I sprinted to the emergency room and peered through the swinging doors that were slightly ajar. I recognized the old man instantly despite the tubes in his nose and arms. His eyes were open and he appeared responsive. I sank to my knees in gratitude.

Moments later, as one of the attending nurses approached, I felt a pair of warm hands slip beneath my shirt and start caressing my nipples. It was the girl I had found at the beach now sporting a pair of lust filled eyes and flaring nostrils. In panic, I pushed her away, but she was not to be denied and leapt on me as the nurse stared in amazement. Her amazement changed to wanton desire in less than three seconds flat, as my “fight or flight” response kicked in. Clearing a mobile heart monitor in a single bound, I was out the door only to find my car being hooked up to a wrecker. Before I could devise a secondary escape plan, my pants were around my ankles and warm lips clamped around my meat. As I tried to push the young girl from my torso, she bit down just hard enough to draw blood, and I fell to the pavement in agony. The nurse appeared from nowhere and joined in the feast, nibbling and sucking as my erection began to stiffen.

One never knows where the wind blows, and when the tow truck operator lay down beside me with his genitals exposed, I knew my salvation was at hand. The nurse dove onto his pelvis and immediately began humping away at his semi rigid organ giving me an opportunity to reverse my position on the mourning waif I’d found earlier, and hump away with all the strength and frustration that was boiling inside. She kept climaxing, gurgling with glee as she rode each ascending orgasmic wave in wild abandon. I’m not sure how much time elapsed before she finally submitted to exhaustion, but it was near enough to put me in a full body cast for life. I rolled off her tiny frame and turned to the truck driver whose eyes had rolled into his head while his tongue hung out sideways in total abandon.

Pulling up my pants, I ran back into the hospital ward with one burning question on my mind: “How long do these effects last?” Hoping to question the old man, I was appalled to see several doctors banging furiously on the locked emergency door. Closer investigation found two nurses desperately riding the old man who appeared virtually lifeless. The hospital administrator suddenly appeared with a set of keys and hurriedly opened the door. The nymph nurses leapt onto the stunned doctors giving me the opportunity to gather my friend in my arms and hustle him into the front seat of my car where I hurriedly fumbled with the hoisting apparatus on the tow truck to free my car. It started with a roar, and I screeched through the nearest intersection and headed for the busy turnpike and home.

Marne was waiting at my front door and she ran to the car as I approached. Fearing for my life I almost drove on by until I caught a glimpse of her forlorn face. Compassion overwhelmed my logic as I pulled into the garage and eased the lifeless body of my friend from the front seat. I carried him onto my bed and turned to confront Marne with the softest yet firmest tone of voice I could muster.

“Look, I just pulled my friend from certain death and darn near had my willy bitten off. Please just go home and leave us alone.”

“I don’t know what’s happened to me, but I’m sorry I’ve hurt you and would really like to spend the night. I have some medical experience, and I might be able to help your friend.”

I softened and held her close for a time, grateful for her understanding. She finally brushed past me gently and went to the old man to check his vitals. I stood by watching her nurturance instincts with gratitude; seeing a part of her that I never knew existed. After awhile she rose from his side and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her blouse.

“I think he’s suffering from severe exhaustion. Let me go to the pharmacy and get a few things for him – mind if I use your car?”

“Go ahead, lady,” I said with a weak smile, “But come home quickly, won’t you?”

“Home – I like that! See you in a jiff.”

She did come home soon, and before I knew what happened I was moving her clothes into my room and my friend’s sparse belongings into my study. We became family that night, and have never been alone since. The old man’s gift? It’s kept securely on the top shelf in the pantry, and we only use a drop or two to assist our frustrated friends or bring life to a dull party.