This Is Me

Are you ready for tonight, Friday party?

It says right on my blog that I’m an older man; thus my saying so here shouldn’t come as a newsflash.

Some friends fixed me up with a date with a woman who lives in a retirement community. She was fairly recently widowed. Honestly, I wasn’t real crazy about it, but they were good friends of mine, said she was nice, and, besides, I’d have a pleasant companion for dinner and a play afterward. There are worse ways to spend an evening.

She was slim, with short salt and pepper hair, nicely dressed. Overall, quite an attractive older lady, definitely beyond the MILF stage, but still a pretty nice package.

I drove her back to her place. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, and so we went in to her condo.

She got the coffee started—decaf, since it was late, and, let’s face it, old folks can’t drink caffeine late at night—and then excused herself to use the bathroom.

When she came out of the bathroom, I stood, and she walked to within a few feet of me. I figured I didn’t have anything to lose—I mean, we’d gone out once, and she seemed nice, but there was nothing special going on that I could tell–so I unzipped my pants and pulled out my dick.

Much to my surprise, she dropped to her knees on the carpet without a word, and, folding her hands in her lap, took my cock in her mouth and started giving me a blowjob.

Except that calling it a blowjob doesn’t begin to do it justice. That would be like calling King Lear an example of grammatical English. I mean, she bobbed her head up and down, sucked, swirled her tongue, varied depth from all the way down to barely the head in her mouth, and all that. So technically it was a blowjob. She got me to the edge what seemed like a zillion times, then backed off for a while, and then took me right to the edge again.

After what must have been half an hour, she finally let me cum, and she swallowed every drop. It’s sometimes said that there’s a fine line between pain and pleasure. The sensations from this blowjob were an example of why that expression came about; I felt like I was squirting my insides into her mouth.

When I finished cumming, she took me all the way down several times, applied pressure with her lips and tongue, and made sure she sucked every drop out of my piss tube. Then she licked the head and shaft thoroughly clean, before touching my dick for the first time to tuck it back in my pants and zip me up.

By my age, a lot of women have sucked my cock. I’ve never had anything remotely like what she gave me, though.

By that time the coffee was ready. She sprang easily to her feet, and, without saying anything else, asked, “Ready for coffee?”

I said, “Uh huh” or something equally inspired—or is that insipid?

So she poured us each a cup, and we sat on the sofa and started sipping it. I honestly didn’t quite know what to say. I’m usually pretty good at getting conversations going, but, truly, what do you say after the cocksucking of your life?

So I thought it best just to admit, “I really don’t know what to say.”

“My late husband loved fellatio,” she said. Interesting choice of words. “Back then it wasn’t taken for granted that ‘nice’ girls would do it, and when we first got together I wouldn’t. I told him only whores put it in their mouths. Shows how naive I was. But he was quite experienced, including with prostitutes. He told me that if I wouldn’t suck it he’d just hire a whore—that was his word—to do it, and even threatened to bring one home and make me watch her. I thought he was kidding.”

“Wow, that’s quite a story,” I said. If you’d just had someone with her skills suck you off, you wouldn’t exactly be a master of witty repartee, either.

“There’s more to it, though. He actually did bring a hooker home and had her suck him off in front of me.”

“Amazing that he would have the nerve.” Though the brain cells were working well enough to understand her story, the part that constructs cogent sentences was still a couple of beers short of a sixpack.

“Well, it really got me mad, and for a week or so we didn’t have the closest relationship. Then I thought, why should some chippy be getting my husband’s semen and his money? So one night when he got home from work he found me in the living room, naked, and on my knees. I said, 'I’m ready to perform fellatio on you.’ He walked over, unzipped, and uttered two words: 'Suck it.’ I put his penis in my mouth and just sucked up and down; I took the instructions literally. I’m sure I was terrible, because I didn’t know anything about what to do, really. He tried to get me to go all the way down it, but I couldn’t; I ended up gagging enough that I puked a little.”

She paused for a sip of coffee and to catch her breath.

She continued, “He didn’t say much after he came, but I made up my mind I was going to practice and become the best fellatrix there was. So we re-enacted this scene nearly every night after work. I improved slowly. I felt I’d hit a major milestone when he said I could suck as well as a piece of gutter filth. Ultimately he told me I was better than anyone else who’d ever sucked him, prostitute or otherwise. Maybe it’s wrong, but I felt very complimented.”

“Well, you’re certainly better than anyone else who’s sucked me, and that has been quite a few!” I said, and meant every word.

“He always said my mouth was better than my—or anybody else's—pussy. So he rarely fucked me.”

“Well, I gotta tell you, your mouth is better than any pussy I’ve ever been in!”

“I’ve kind of missed it since my husband died. I don’t know if I was actually hoping something like that would happen tonight, but I was happy when it did,” she said.

We finished our coffee. I helped her clean up the dishes, and she walked me to the door. At the door we embraced. I kissed her deeply and cupped her right breast with my left hand while getting a feel of her ass with my right. She’s long past the age where she would need, uh, feminine hygiene products, and so her breasts are probably wrinkled, empty sacks that hang down to her hips when she isn’t wearing a bra, but I still felt her nipple harden against my palm.

Clever birthday gift? I never fail her. Hefty sum to a sex-toy retailer. So for this year’s surprise I got such a large size Had to hire a truck with a trailer.

Enjoying my naughty rhymes? See a new one every day when you follow me!