Dick’s Demise

I know. I know. You want to know whether I actually made an attempt to fill his request for a “sexy massage”. Or… Whether I chickened out. Did I, or did I not take advantage of my 84 year old landlord??

Of course, I could NEVER do anything like that. I mean… I would never do anything to take advantage of him. But take him… Well, yes. That, I most certainly did do!


What a sensitive situation to find myself in? What a perfectly insane and totally volatile position to create for myself. I brainstormed the entire ten minute drive back to my house from the restaurant, on how to handle his request. Did I even have a safe option that DIDN’T involve doing something very lurid with the man who lends me his home??


You know, we never really did discuss the details. Yes. It was true that I had agreed to give my landlord a “sexy massage”. However, you could take that ANY number of ways. 


Maybe he was referring to a simple massage performed while we were both nude. That’s not too far fetched.  Maybe by “sexy”, he just meant being rubbed down completely by the very sensual touch of a woman. No. Most likely, Dick was expecting a massage with a two-handed “happy ending”. Boy, was I overjoyed.


Whatever I did choose would definitely change our landlord/tenant (non) relationship forever. I certainly didn’t want to make the wrong decision and upset him in anyway. This very delicate situation must be handled properly, or I could be in deep shit. I drew a total blank.


You know, this was torture. So… I just made up my mind, and that was that. If he really wanted a “sexy massage”… Well, dammit! He was gonna get the very best I had to offer! I was now determined to make a memory that Dick would never forget! And, by the pounding on my back door, it was obvious he was eager to get the memory makin started asap.


I guided him through the darkened rooms of the house we both knew so well, and led him directly to my dimly lit bedroom. I could have asked him to remove his clothes, but I just have this feeling that no where on this Earth is yelling into an elderly man’s face considered foreplay. So, instead, I took him by the hand and led him next to the bed, where I undressed him slowly and deliberately myself.


The overwhelming worry and fear I had experienced earlier in the evening had been replaced by confidence and anticipation, as I guided his frail body back onto the newly changed and freshly washed sheets. For just a short moment, I did hesitate.


He lay so still and motionless. Almost as if afraid to move, or say, or do anything. His expression was blank and emotionless. It was a look I’d actually witnessed many times before. Of course, never from a man with his age and experience. 


Yup. I recognized it immediately. You see, over the years, I’ve performed… Well, I suppose you could call it “community service”. I mean, it’s kind of like that. And, almost always, these events began with a fella wearing this exact same expression. 


The only difference?? Quite a big one, actually. It’s true. Those guys… they left me as men. But, when they first arrived… Well, when they first arrived, they were only boys. I did for them what no one else ever can. I took their virginities. 


Now, here was an 80 something year old man. Yet, he looked just about as frightened as an untouched schoolboy. A young man that has yet to experience the tender pink flower of a woman’s inner sanctum. His face was an expression full of frightened anticipation, and… IT TURNED ME THE FUCK ON!


I stripped my nightie over my shoulders and tossed it to the ground. Every muscle in his body was locked into place, exactly as I had originally placed him after removing his clothing. His stillness made it just that much easier for me to climb atop his waist, until I was straddling his torso with my heated thighs. 


My eyes never left his, as my slender fingers kneaded the loose flesh of his shoulders and upper arms, taking great care to pass my elongated nipples only a slight breath away from the wizened flesh of his face.


The strokes made by my hands swiftly morphed into long passes along the entire length of his body made with my voluptuous female figure hovering just above him, gliding along the very fine hair that covered most of his frame.


It was the most delicious of teases. I am amazed to report that the old man is truly made of some really tough stuff, because I was SERIOUSLY puttin it on him. No. My words are not enough for you to fully understand.  


I don’t know what it was… Perhaps, the look of virginity in his grey eyes. Maybe it was his inability to move any of his body parts. Or, just… the total insanity of the entire situation. All at once, I felt so sexy, overwhelmingly powerful, and completely in control. Even every sensation I felt was heightened greatly; every moment abundant with feverish joy. 


I began by using my body to arouse his flesh, making it a point to use my hands only sparingly. Instead, I employed the ample curves the good Lord blessed me with and made long, slow strokes, faintly, all along the length of his stocky frame. Slowly increasing in pressure, until I was grinding him roughly under some blind, unknown internal need.


I totally ruined Dick that evening. I truly was just following the flow of energy that surged between us. We were both burning up, but no heat was as fierce as the inferno that the friction our two bodies made when slid along together. We were, seemingly, melting into one another.


I never did make it to massaging his stiff back. No. Dick had far stiffer things that required my attention. After grinding my swollen clitoris against him into a full blown orgasm, my head seemed to clear a bit. And, there it was.


For a man of his age, I assure you, he is very blessed, indeed. He has a beautiful cock. Almost perfectly sized for the deepthroat/ball-tonguing combo I do so enjoy showing off to all of my new friends. I admit, I was delighted to see he had more to offer than I would usually (and, sadly, did) expect from a man his age.


When he finally did cum, the silence was broken with his voice. It was piercingly loud; the sound of a wounded warrior, battle-worn, and crying out in abandon… as he finally spots the chopper cum to take him home. That day, I think I became Dick’s hero.


Oh, come on. Who am I kidding? Of course, I’m no hero. Don’t let this capital letter S on my t-shirt fool ya, darlin. That S… stands for Slut.    







Advertisements

13 comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s