I had always been skeptical when I read letters in your magazine about males experiencing several orgasms. I'm sixty-five years old, and until recently, when I had the good fortune to meet one of the hottest women I've known in my fifty years of sexual activity, I'd never had one myself.
My life changed one afternoon as I pushed a shopping cart through the produce section of a nearby supermarket. I was daydreaming and feeling sorry for myself because my wife was out of town 15 family and would be gone all week. To be honest, I was more anxious about what I was going to have for dinner and the fact that I would be eating alone than about not having sex for a week.
I collided with a cart being pushed by a really gorgeous, well-dressed lady while not paying attention to my surroundings. Blue eyes grinned at me from a tanned face framed by the whitest hair I'd ever seen. I said, "I apologize. "I suppose I was daydreaming."
Looking at my cart, she said, "I see why. A great red wine, a bottle of 7UP, chips and dips equals one thing: a wine-cooler party. The only thing I see missing is some tasty guacamole and an X-rated film."
Despite being caught aback by her statements, I managed to quickly respond. "Well, the most crucial item is missing: the tiny woman. "My wife is away visiting relatives."
The woman grinned and added, "Now that calls for a long face and daydreaming. I was going to offer you my prize-winning guacamole recipe, but I only make it for parties."
Unwilling to pass up the opportunity that appeared to be unfolding before me, I blurted out, "Well, I sense a party atmosphere coming on. How about showing me what I need to create the guacamole. I know where I can rent an X-rated movie. Why don't we throw a party? Then I thought, "My God, what did I do?" This gal is not a cheap pick-up. I'll deserve it if she slaps my face and walks away.
To my surprise and eternal gratitude, the smile never left those stunning blue eyes. She replied, "Sounds insane, but why not? I currently live alone. My husband died six months ago, and it's been a long time since I had a good party."
I chose avocados, limes, tomatoes, and onions to her specifications and walked through the checkout line feeling like a teen on his first date. Wow, was I high. Even my manhood was growing taller. In the parking lot, I asked for her address, stating that I wanted to go home and clean up. She said, "Please don't dress up. Let's have a relaxing, informal evening.
"Suits me fine," I said. "But I'm not sure about the relaxed part."
"I know what you mean," she said softly. "It's been a long time for me too."
As I got into my car, I almost tore off the door. At home, in the shower, I discovered a hard-on that I hadn't seen since I was much younger. I was fortunate to discover an old pair of BVDs in my dresser drawer. I usually wear boxer shorts, but there was no way a pair of boxer shorts would conceal that raging boner. I took a full red rose from the garden, attached it to a bit of fern, and went.
I didn't realize how excited I was until I approached her door. When she responded, she jokingly asked, "What kept you? It's been 15 minutes since we left the grocery."
I laughed and said, "I guess I'm a little excited about learning how to make guacamole."
She had changed into a sheer negligee that, with little backlighting, exposed the firmest physique I'd seen in a long time. I was clearly staring when she added, "I'm delighted you enjoy what you see. It takes a lot of time and effort to keep a sixty-year-old body in this shape.
I apologized for gazing and informed her that there were few thirty-year-olds who could compete with her. She performed a small pirouette and bowed with her arms wide, giving me a good, long look at a stunning pair of tits. I was glad I had on the BVDs. The old pecker was going to pop a seam.
When I handed her the rose, she moved forward and gave me a delicate kiss that lasted just long enough for us to establish physical contact. She grinned and added, "I thought we promised to dress comfortably. You seem to be all bound up." But before I could answer, Mom grabbed my hand and said, "Come on, it's recipe time. It's time to unwind with a cool drink and learn the secrets of guacamole cooking."
While we drank wine coolers, munched chips and dip, and created guacamole, she informed me about her husband's condition, which gradually took away his virility. They started with X-rated videos, which is why she cracked in the store. When I heard about the video, I slapped myself on the forehead and apologized for forgetting to pick one up. "I guess I was just too excited," I admitted.
She said, "Don't worry. "I have a collection of X-rated videos organized by subject." She informed me that she hadn't had sex in about two years, that she had been married twice, and that she had only slept with three guys in her life. Her previous spouse limited sex to the missionary position twice a week. Her sex life had improved since her second marriage, but then her spouse became ill. The X-rated films had helped for a while, but they had only served to show her how pleasant sex could be. With her husband's terrible sickness, sex had been stressful, to say the least.
As she refilled my drink, she continued, "I'm not sure what attracted me to you in the market. I don't generally approach strangers in that way. But the rose you brought—not to mention the bulge in your pants—makes me believe that tonight will be a nice night.
By the time the avocado dip was almost gone, we were on our third wine cooler, and I was starting to feel extremely relaxed. As many of you are aware, achieving the ideal mix of lime juice and salt in guacamole needs a great deal of tasting. Babette transformed simple taste into an art form. She'd drop her fingers into the mixing bowl, then slide them into either my or her mouth. When it was my turn to sample, she dipped in with two fingers, giving me the opportunity to lick the avocado from between her fingers. When she tasted, she took only one finger and slowly pushed it into her mouth, closed her lips around it before taking it out, all the while capturing my attention with those dazzling baby blues. To say the least, our tasting quickly turned into one hell of an erotic experience.
Knowing that this couldn't carry on indefinitely without me firing a load into my jeans, I reached over, cradled her chin in my palm, and pulled her lips to mine. As before, the kiss was light and our lips barely touched, yet it was enough to send vibrations all the way to my toes. I carefully stroked my tongue across her lips, hoping to convince her to open them so we could have a small French kiss. However, they remained closed to my probing tongue.
After the kiss, she held me with her eyes and carefully traced the outline of my lips with her finger. My God, I thought, another wave of sensation like that and I will definitely come. My shorts were extremely soaked. She sensed my uneasiness and remarked, "Let's call the dip done and move to the comfort of the TV room."
When we had placed fresh wine coolers on the table in the TV room, I took both of Babette's hands in mine and carefully drew her closer. We kissed again, and it was delicate but very sensual. This time, my tongue found an entrance and was greeted by the tip of her tongue, which formed small circles around mine.
Without breaking contact, I set her down and gently guided her into a reclining posture on the couch, with me kneeling next to her on the floor. I started kissing her cheek and gradually traced the outline of her ear with my tongue. I could feel her body shiver as I inserted my tongue into her ear once or twice. I gently kissed each eyelid as I moved on to the next ear. By now, her body was moving in subtle, sensual gyrations, and I could hear soft sighs of ecstasy. I proceeded down to the valley between her magnificent breasts and let my tongue explore until I found the nipple. Her body began to move uncontrollably, and her moans were audible.
She squeezed her breasts together, allowing me to lick both nipples simultaneously. After firming both nipples to their full potential, I went slowly down her stomach, darting my tongue from side to side. When I got to her pubic hair, her legs were spread wide, and the musky stench of her moist pussy nearly drove me insane with need. I put one of her legs over my shoulder, hoping to gradually make my way down to her clit. She couldn't wait, however. She arched her back and pressed her pussy against my face, whimpering, "Suck my pussy. "I am coming!" Of course, I complied.
I'm not sure how long I ate her pussy, alternating between sucking her clit and tongue-fucking her tunnel, but she appeared to come indefinitely. Wave after wave surged through her body, and I thought she'd pass out. I couldn't imagine a pussy could become so hot and moist.
When she returned from her trip to Nirvana, she exclaimed, "Oh, God, that was good." I've never experienced such a strong orgasm. Now, give me your cock. I want to suck you till your balls are drained completely."
I was so pumped up that my hands struggled to pull down my pants and underwear. My cock was so eager that it throbbed. Babette began moaning and shaking as she held my cock. I was certain she had arrived again. She worked her tongue around my about-to-burst cockhead, gradually sucking in more and more of my pounding cock until I was completely down her throat. She clenched her lips, pressed my cock to the roof of her mouth with her tongue, and tightened her neck muscles. As she drew back, she moved her tongue back and forth, paying special attention to the delicate underbelly. As she started down again, I knew I couldn't handle it any longer, so I pulled free, parted her legs, and entered her pussy. Once I was in, she stretched her labia, arched her back to rub her clitoris with my cock, and yelled, "Fuck me fast and hard." Unfortunately, the rapid and hard only lasted about four strokes, after which I began to come on strong. I'd never had such an intense and long-lasting orgasm.
When I sat up and received Babette's wine cooler, she must have seen my sadness because she asked, "Is something wrong?"
I stated, "I didn't want to come yet because I knew it would be the end of the evening. "I always want to roll over and fall asleep after sex."
She replied in a quiet voice barely above a whisper, "Tonight you will break all kinds of old patterns. Tonight, you will come and go until you are bone dry. Speaking of bone dry, let's take a shower. I could use a nice clean-up. "I had no idea my pussy could get so juicy, and you must have shot a gallon of come."
She took a drink of wine cooler, swirled it around in her lips, then, without swallowing, slipped my half-hard cock in and began tonguing it. The cool sparkling drink touched the fragile flesh behind the skull, and, to my amazement and delight, the old lad began to grow again. This was going to be one night to remember.
When I was completely hard, she brought me to the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the water streamed over our bodies, we exchanged another delicate, tender, passionate kiss. After that, she added, "Let's see if the stall is big enough to accommodate the 69 position." She spread out a couple of towels, laid down, and stretched her legs. I dived in.
The sensation of cool water cascading across my back and the aroma of her hot, moist pussy drove me insane. We shifted positions, putting her on top, and I discovered that sucking the water flowing down her bushy pussy was rather enjoyable. We decided the shower was getting a little crowded, so we got into bed without even toweling off.
Taking the top position, I carefully licked her pussy, moving down one side of her crotch, across the bottom, and up the other, each time getting closer to the center of action. As I darted across the top, barely grazing her clitoris, she thrust her hips up in the air, attempting to maximize contact with her clit. At the same moment, she would suck all of my cock into her mouth. When I eventually started working along the side of her labia, she mimicked my movements with in-and-out strokes on my cock. As I crossed over at the bottom, I inserted my tongue into her snatch, and she swiveled her tongue around my swelling cockhead, flicking it against the painful underside. When my tongue was between her labia and working up toward her clit, she was sucking more cock into her throat. When I reached the clit, I started sucking on it. She shoved my cock on the roof of her mouth with her tongue while contracting her throat muscles.
We came together in long waves of pleasure. We were both sweating again, so we returned to the shower, which was still running. We took a slow shower, allowing the cool water to revive our still-excited bodies. I found myself becoming aroused again. It wasn't a young man's hard-on anymore, but it was still harder than usual.
We dried each other with lovely, fluffy towels. Our kisses became more powerful, and our tongues moved faster. When I had reached my limit, she grabbed me by the rod and led me back to the TV room. She went through a stack of films, selected one, and said, "Let's watch a movie and relax a little." My God, I wondered, how could an X-rated film be relaxing?
The video she chose was a collection of bloopers recorded while filming several adult videos. Some of them were actually rather funny. You could say it was exactly what the doctor ordered to relieve our stress. After the movie, we fucked in every position we could think of. Babette returned several times, but I must say that one more good one proved to be my last.
Although I am happily married, Babette and I have a regular golf date every Saturday morning. And, while my scores haven't been as high as they were on the first night, I am consistently shooting far above par. Thanks to that blue-eyed stunner Babette, I'm still hanging in there rather well as a 65-year-old man.
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