The 19th March 2016 saw me turn sixty-eight. I still can’t believe I am that age and as each year passes one gets an increasing awareness of one’s own mortality.
The most strange aspect to age is that one doesn’t recognise what has actually happened.
In my mind I am still in my prime, say late twenties or early thirties, but the body won’t perform in the way it used to. Inside my mind and in my view on life, the universe and everything, I think I will always be on that 29/30 cusp. My body, however, won’t perform in the same way it did in those days. I can no longer jump from rock to rock when walking along a river bank. A great deal more care is now needed if I don’t want to incur a broken ankle or an unexpected soaking. The slightly failing balance and surefootedness is extremely frustrating. Eyesight is not quite perfect, a cataract has had to be removed. My skin is no longer taut and looking down at my hands typing this, the skin is less supple. My hair, of course, is almost gone, my back not as strong and my neck gives me pain occasionally.
It seems awfully unfair to have all the increase in knowledge and expertise, but losing the ability to put much of it into action.
About ten years ago, while making love in the shower with my girlfriend Charlotte (four years before Angie and I found each other again), I suffered a minor heart attack and soon after my release from hospital I was hit by a small stroke.
The NHS is the most incredible institution. On both occasions I was looked after wonderfully and Charlotte helped me through my recoveries. Apart from tablets I will now need to take for the rest of my life, my motor functions are more or less back to normal so a full recovery. Since getting back together with Angie she has got me into weight loss and fitness. Today I am over three stone (50lbs) below my weight in 2010. You can read about how Angie and I found each other again on this link.
The most annoying effect of the drugs I take to keep my heart healthy and prevent a second stroke, is erectile dysfunction. Again it is incomprehensible to me that I sometimes have trouble completing the sex act. Even worse, the most desirable place in the world, Angie’s vagina, cannot even be penetrated. How ridiculous to want something so badly and be unable to achieve it. All of the desire can be there. It hammers home the meaning of “the mind is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
Fortunately that can be overcome effectively with sildenafil (Viagra) and, with my new fit self, I make love as often without help as I do with it. Angie and I don’t use it unless we feel it’s needed.
Anyway, this is all a preamble to telling you about my wonderful birthday present.
[Before proceeding let me explain that all of our stories are true unless prefixed FICTION or QUESTION etc. To understand us you need to read the Back Story page.]
As a male gets older, the number of orgasms which can be experienced in a given period falls away and it is not wise to use Viagra more than once in twenty-four hours. For this reason I very rarely enjoy a full blow-job because if she climaxes me through fellatio then that is me finished for a considerable time. We both so enjoy full lovemaking and it is such a mutual pleasure that I rarely orgasm orally, although she’ll often take me to the edge a few times before we make love.
I suppose that is where the male body fails in its ability to keep pace with the female. It is not unusual for me to give Angie an orgasm manually, a second one through cunnilingus and a third from lovemaking, all in the same session. Sometimes each of those ministrations will provide several orgasms. How lucky to be a woman, eh?
Back to my birthday.
Ang often holds my flaccid penis in the mornings and I wake to her fingers caressing me. She treats it like a comforter, often cupping my entire genitals in the palm of her hand, her fingers tenderly curling around me. On Saturday I awoke to these lovely caresses and quickly reacted.
She has a brilliant technique of holding my shaft and providing gentle squeezes. As my erection begins she squeezes lower and lower on my penis and this provides the most wonderful anticipatory ache along my length. She knows exactly what is best and usually I’ll turn to her, we’ll have some foreplay, maybe giving her an orgasm before making love.
This day, though, when I started to turn towards her she pushed me back down onto my back with her other hand and whispered, “Birthday present. Lie still.”
I knew what she meant. She was going to take me to climax orally. The thought immediately sent a shock-wave into my penis and it must have hardened even more rapidly.
I lay still. Angie turned onto one elbow and I could caress her shoulders with my right hand while her fingers continued to squeeze me, adding small strokes up and down into the mix. The deep ache within my lower shaft was now joined by the amazing sensations of my skin moving back and forth over my upper penis.
She turned further, slid down the bed, my hand moved from her back into her hair and just seconds later her hand pulled downwards, my foreskin revealed its contents and I felt the marvellous sexual thrill of her lips encircling my glans.
What an incredible experience it is. Lips sliding up and down my most sensitive flesh and, oh my God, the tiny moist creature which is her tongue circled me, stroked me, licked me, caressed me while the lips moved back and forth rhythmically. How amazing. Nothing, literally nothing in the world is as beautiful as being told to lie passively while the girl you love is giving gentle, fast, slow, vigorous, rough, tender caresses to your glans. Absolutely the best feeling in the world. So good, so overwhelming, knowing what she is doing to you, wondering at her skill, trying to absorb every nuance within her gossamer touches.
All the time her hand has a fierce grip around my lower shaft and is squeezing about once a second as her tongue circles me in the same cadence with her lips moving a little more slowly upwards and down a part of me which is now glowing with feelings.
Several times I felt the sap rising, that gorgeous sensation which precedes ejaculation. Heat in the lower shaft trying to meet the intense fire in my glans, but just before the link was established she’d slow and hold me still. She tells me she can judge it perfectly because as my climax approaches my shaft thickens considerably.
After brief relaxations to allow me to slide back down the mountain of orgasm, it all begins again. Each time better than the last. Every time I would come closer to finishing. Her skill at judging when to stop all motion being put to the test increasingly often.
Part of the wonder of Angie’s fellatio is that I never know when she is going to finish me so the anticipation of that moment remains in the fore of my mind. Sometimes I cry out for her to make me come, but experience has told me it makes no difference. She’ll only release me from her torture when she is ready.
I don’t know how long she’d been fellating me as I’d not seen the clock before she’d started, but it must have been half an hour. I was so desperate to come, but wouldn’t ask. My moans and groans were indication enough of my growing need for release. I was waiting and longing and desiring completion, knowing it would be unforgettable when it arrived.
Once more the two sensations were trying to meet. The heat and the fire were so close. Once they joined I’d be lost. My breathing had become frantic again. She knew how close I was. I wondered at the mechanism in our bodies which fired off ejaculation. What a mysterious function of the male body. I came close for the umpteenth time and almost cried with the joy and wished for the end. It seemed the fire in my glans, when it got to the point of no return, joined with the fierce heat in my shaft. My whole penis was roasting hot. Some signal was sent at the speed of light to my brain which responded with a message to my prostate to fire its ammunition.
When it is close to happening to you, it is impossible to concentrate on anything except the astonishing thrill of her tongue, lips and hand. Even those separate parts of her were finally indistinguishable from each other.
Suddenly the fire filled me from top to bottom, her grip around my shaft became stronger, her lips tightened about my corona, her tongue gave its last few caresses of encouragement and I exploded.
Oh, the rush is magnificent. I cried out in pleasure, my hand holding her shoulder in a death-grip, my thighs shaking uncontrollably and that tiny spoonful of roasting hot semen began its dash to freedom.
The intense feeling of it pulsing along the length of my penis, the wonderful enjoyment of it firing into her, part of my mind sensing it rushing through that tight grip and my prostate pumping as if to quench the fire.
I was almost crying with pleasure as the last of my orgasm filled her mouth.
“Mmmh,” she said.
Her lips released me, her hand still held tightly and she slithered up the bed and smiled lovingly into my eyes. Hers, dark brown, with the blackest pupils, the oriental slant adding the nature of a smile. She looked down at my lips with a devious expression. Hers met mine and I got a second birthday present.
I swallowed and our tongues met to taste my flavour and hers combined. Our mouths parted.
“Thought I’d better give it back to you. You’ll need it later!” she laughed.
I lifted my head to hers and we kissed, long and warm and sensuous and moist and lovingly.
How good did I feel? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? Sixty-eight years suddenly meant nothing. I was a virile young man again in post-coital bliss.
As the kiss ended I looked towards the clock. It was 9.30am. I was born sixty-eight years ago to the very minute.
“Happy birthday,” she whispered and rose for the day, leaving me lying on my back, my breathing slowly recovering, my heart still pounding but settling, and I had done nothing but propel a teaspoonful of semen into my darling wife.
What happened later in the day? Well that is another story! How lucky to be 68?
[What happened later in the day is now available on this link.]
Peter Stone, 22nd March 2016
[I apologise for any spelling, grammar and typo errors – Angie is still resisting my efforts to reawaken her interest in the blog and my writing often needs checking. My brain rushes along ahead of my ability to type!]