Cock Obsession Pt. 03

From liniment to an oil massage. It was, of course, Carol's idea for another visit to Mr Girrson on another night. The idea of feeling Mr Girrson all slippery beneath her as she worked his back rather pleased her and she thought surely he would like it as much as she, when he felt her breasts sliding softly in the oil across his back. He had indeed, and he had liked it the more when she had turned him over on his towel covered bed and rubbed her breasts against his breast!

And Carol had sat back down on his erection, had been so careful to sit on it and make sure it did not enter her by mistake. It had been so nice for her to feel the ridge of the erection's underside against her sex. Had been so good to rub up and down it, the long shaft slippy-sliding across her clitoris and between her inner lips. She had been facing his head and it was so nice to see the big erection's swollen head with taut fraenum appearing and disappearing. Sooner or later the little eye she could see right at the tip of the swollen pink knob would open and Mr Girrson's white semen would pour out.

"Can I hold?"

He meant her breasts. He had been watching them swing.

"Of course not, Mr Girrson, holding your young neighbour's breasts - whatever are you thinking of! I don't know. You mature men lusting after young wives!"

Wonderfully absurd giving she was on top of him completely naked, covered in oil and sliding up and down his cock, masturbating him with her sex. There it was, appearing and disappearing under her pubic hair, so slippery with oil and her wetness. Lovely!

It was not him. Not at all. It was Carol's doing. Everything so slippery that it, his penis, had just slipped inside. She did not tell him but it had. The thing she had promised herself not to do had just been done - as easy as that. One moment she was slippy-sliding along the ridge of his erection feeling every bulging vein bumping her clit when she had simply slid too far forward and on the return motion his penis head had just gone in. The slipperiness of her vulva had been such that he seemed not to have noticed that he had gone inside just for a second -- not the whole thing of course, not the whole way, perhaps an inch and a half at most but it had been done. Carol knew it. The thing she had promised herself not to do had been done.

She had squeaked and pulled back but it had been done. A penis that was not her husband's had entered her for the first time in five years of marriage. She had felt its bigness, the size of its smooth mushroom head.

Should she tell Mike? Explain it had been an accident but then she would have to tell him everything. He knew how sexual she was, knew how much she liked penises -- well his penis anyway. Mike could hardly find Mr Girrson a threat -- not at seventy! He would be surprised and even angry. Carol would not like that at all.

Calmed down, perhaps he might agree, sometimes, to letting Mr Girrson join with them, be understanding of how much she liked the idea of a second cock; would maybe accept she needed more time, that he could be a little hasty? Might he not like the idea of performing first, letting Mr Girrson take over and then, having rested and watched, be ready for another try? Carol knew she would like that. A succession of erections - Mike's, Mr Girrson and then Mike again.

She did not know but, perhaps, Mike might rather enjoy watching his wife being fucked by another man, especially one who posed no threat, might enjoy watching the event, perhaps be really turned on by seeing such a big cock entering her and see how it stretched his little girl; would he perhaps like to take her anally -- he liked that, after all, even if she did not -- whilst she rode Mr Girrson's penis in the proper place; would Mike find it stimulating to approach her bottom and see Mr Girrson ready lodged in her vagina, his big penis and balls moving -- would he like that? Would he like working his wife in unison with Mr Girrson, the two penises sliding separately but together in adjacent holes? Would she like that even if she did not relish anal sex on its own? And, of course, she would accept doing that for Mike!

Would Mike enjoy watching her lips move from one cock to the other? The two men close, she with one cock in each hand, simply taking it in turns to suck one then the other, until one came. Would Mike find it a real turn on to see Mr Girrson's eyes widen and his breath come in short gasps as he came, knowing, whilst he could not see it, that his wife was drinking the older man's cum -- her throat moving as she swallowed. Would he like that or be appalled? Would he like seeing her rise from Mr Girrson's penis, show the semen still in her mouth and then drizzle it all over her husband's penis before she descended and sucked? To her it was all terribly erotic -- but that did not mean it would be to Mike! He had a penis after all, unlike she who had a penis fetish!

Exciting thoughts as she continued to slide back and forth along the ridge of Mr Girrson's oily erection. She looked down at naked Mr Girrson. The old man was lying there looking at her moving breasts, her movement making them swing with a big smile on his face. She knew she had been a bit unfair not letting him touch them. Silly really, there she was riding his cock - he was touching her with that, had even been inside her. yet she had not permitted his hands to touch.

Carol was almost there when the white stuff starting coming. She kept up her movement as it flowed out and onto Mr Girrson's tummy. She opened her mouth in a gesture of excitement at the happening, her eyes seeking his trying to share in his pleasure, but his eyes were tight shut. Carol smiled watching the old man in the midst of his orgasm. Their play was good for both of them. She could see it in him. It had made him a little younger. Mr Girrson had always held himself ram rod straight but there was an extra jauntiness now in his walk. He was undoubtedly enjoying the sexual activity with her and it was making him feel good about himself as well. She smiled at the idea her games were therapeutic for him. As for Carol, well she had needs and an extra cock within easy reach was a good thing indeed. Nice that she was pleasing the old man too... though a nuisance about letting his penis slip into her. Well, it was only a quick slip and only a bit of a penis.

Carol raised herself up and played with herself. There was no self consciousness about it. She played as she might on her own whilst a post orgasmic Mr Girrson watched her. She showed it all. The fingers playing with her nipples, the other hand busily at work at her sex - frigging indeed. Fingers stuffed into herself and then strumming her clitoris. She came all right. Kneeling over him, knees astride his thighs and his recently ejaculated penis below her. Eyes screwed shut, mouth opening as if seeking a penis, making her usual whimpering noises and the occasional cry of 'fuck me.' She showed him her orgasm, held nothing back, a piece of exhibitionism.

"You were dripping," he said afterwards. "It was lovely. My wife..."

Carol looked expectantly. Mr Girrson did not often talk intimately about his late wife. Her photographs were throughout the house. Carol hoped she did not look disapprovingly from atop the chest of drawers. Carol was, after all, only being kind to Mr Girrson.

"... she used to get very wet." The sadness on his face showed. A man is often rather sad after ejaculation. It makes the man melancholy. It was not perhaps the time for reflection. He sighed. "I remember on honeymoon. In Cornwall actually. Such a long drive. Took us two days. That first night in the hotel. You young people don't know, but we hadn't - hadn't had intercourse. Mary was a virgin. I can't honestly say I was. We had, well we had played with hands and fingers you know but not the whole hog. It was a lovely room and..."

Carol stayed quiet, just sitting back down on his thighs. She was on 'the Pill,' it did not matter sitting on his, now squidgy, penis.

"Well I was thinking back to when we first... it was a few weeks into the honeymoon and we had had a lovely day. I remember lying on the bed listening to the sea outside the little cottage we had taken and Mary coming in from the bathroom, naked but for a towel around her head. I remember that because she looked so beautiful when she pulled that off and let her damp black hair fall around her. I expect I went up like a sky rocket but instead of getting on me normally she surprised me by getting on the bed by my head and swinging her leg over me so I was looking up between her thighs. It was a surprise, perhaps she had talked about such things with her friends but it was quite obvious, you know, it was going to be a bit French - soixante-neuf you know."

Carol nodded.

"And she dripped. I remember it as clear as day." He sighed. "She was always very wet but that feeling on my face in that little cottage in Cornwall... happy memories, Carol. I remember it so well. Her over me and that sudden drip on my face and then another. We never went back to that cottage. Always meant to go but never did. Talked about it but... well can't be done now. Too late."

"Perhaps it would have changed," said Carol, "things do."

Mr Girrson nodded, "We said that. Certainly would be modernised by now but perhaps it is there still the same, all on its own by the sea. It would have been good to have seen either way. Just standing and looking... holding hands, you know."

There were tears in his eyes. "She was a lovely woman."

Carol was not sure to let his sad train of thought run or try and bring him back to the present. He had, after all, a young woman sitting naked on his recently ejaculated penis.

"If you like we could do that - soixante-neuf. Would you like me to try and drip on your face - I'm sure you'll more than drip in my mouth!"

Mr Girrson smiled at her and reached out and held her arm. "You are very good to me Carol, I really don't know why, but you are making an old man really happy. Yes, please, but not, of course, this particular minute. Somehow I don' t think I'm quite up to it."

"Ten tomorrow evening?"

"That would be nice."

"Be ready on your bed."

He had given her a key: to her it was the key to a spare penis whenever she wanted it and by ten o'clock the next evening she wanted it. She had been talking on the telephone with Mike, had been talking about what she wanted to do with him when he returned and, funnily enough, his views had coincided. They had masturbated together but apart joined by the telephone line and mutual desire and by time she told him to come, very close on ten o'clock Carol was really worked up. She had loved the talk with her husband and especially the way she had insisted he told her about his orgasm as it happened, had made him watch as well as feel and describe both what he felt and saw.

"Wish I could be there to lick it all up."

"Carol! You really are..."

"Sexy?"

"Just a bit... and a bit mad."

"Are you starting to go down?"

"Yes, Carol."

"Mmmm. Wish I could suck it. I like feeling you go all soft in my mouth almost as much as I like feeling you grow hard. Is it all wet and sticky at its end?"

A sigh, "yes, Carol, of course."

There were mutual and truthful expressions of love and then Carol hung up. She was flushed, damp all over and really turned on. The sex she had been stirring was soup like with wetness. Apart from wrapping a short skirt around her and pulling on a tee shirt and a pair of sandals, she just hurried next door with her key. Two or perhaps three minutes from wishing her husband good night Carol was climbing Mr Girrson's stairs, ready to go from setting off a penis hundreds of miles away to doing rather the same with a different one at close quarters.

Mr Girrson was there on his bed. An old man certainly, old enough to be her grandfather but very appreciative of her and possessing a nice big cock. Even soft as it was it was reasonably substantial.

"Hi," she said, pulled her tee shirt off and hopped onto the bed and straddled Mr Girrson's head. Looking up he was no doubt seeing a very wet pudenda nicely framed by her little short tartan skirt. Men like looking up skirts. Carol liked looking at penises. And there was Mr Girrson's in front of her, not two foot away from her eyes. Yummy! She had indeed wanted to hold Mike's, had indeed wanted him to come in her mouth but now that was just what she was going to do for real with her spare penis. Carol liked to see an erection happen and it very much looked like she was going to get a complete performance - the six stages of an erection.

The stirring from its bed, the thickening of the penis, the slight rising and swinging around, the preliminary engorgement, the manly rising and finally the rolling back of the foreskin to reveal the swollen head. Or, at least, that was Carol's categorisation of the stages and from school through university she had enjoyed watching more than a few different penises rise.

It all happened in just such a text book manner. Carol did not touch, just watched and thought. She was concentrating, trying to bring herself to a real fever pitch of excitement, lusting for a thick penis inside her - she had not permitted herself a dildo when on the 'phone to Mike - and for a penis in her mouth. She wanted to drip, she wanted her lubrication to drip from her sex onto Mr Girrson's face as she had promised. Was she wet enough?

"Oh, Carol," his erection twitched making it look the more suckable. It was certainly swollen and excited. "Oh, Carol, yes - just as I remembered."

"Am I?"

"Rather!"

"Slowly she lowered her dripping sex - Mr Girrson had confirmed it was indeed dripping - down towards him. Slowly because she was sure that was the more exciting, seeing a woman's sex coming closer and closer, all wet and swollen. It would be like a man bringing his cock closer and closer to her, the rigid flesh pole with its swollen knob, wavering a little as it advanced towards her mouth.

Carol did not herself move towards Mr Girrson's penis until she had settled herself on his face. Not until his moustache was tickling away at her almost as much as his tongue.

Of course this was somewhat her favourite sort of thing. A penis to herself. Mr Girrson could not see her, indeed was inside her skirt and was otherwise occupied. Perhaps she should sleep with him. How exciting to wake in the night and see Mr Girrson fast asleep but with an erection. She had not yet managed to bring Mike off whilst asleep but it was an idea which so appealed. Just her and a penis and making it 'speak' without its owner knowing anything about it.

Was she still at school when she had first had that fantasy - what she thought of as her 'Peter Pan and Wendy' thing, not that Peter came into it. It had stayed with her and even now sometimes she worked herself up with it. The idea of being able to fly like Peter and slip through the open window of boys' bedrooms. Not little boys - hardly - but young men! Perhaps finding them lying there all naked with the sheet tossed aside in the heat or else in pyjamas, perhaps alone or with a friend. Carol, or was she Wendy, in a floaty little dress with nothing on underneath - dropping down beside the bed and sprinkling fairy dust to keep the occupant or occupants asleep before beginning her little play. Perhaps the penis would already be erect, lovely night time tumescence, perhaps she might have to coax it, but always it would react to her touch, perhaps with her fingers or maybe with her darting little tongue. And, of course, she would make it come whilst the owner was oblivious. Perhaps she might ride it, perhaps she might suck it dry but most often her fantasy would be just to see it come - a wet dream all over his tummy or perhaps even his partner. A lovely dream - she and a working penis.

Carol licked; she licked all the way down from knob to scrotum, down the swollen ridge of Mr Girrson's penis; in her sex, she could very much feel, Mr Girrson's tongue was also licking perhaps he was even swallowing her juices as she would swallow his. She played with his balls sucking first one plum and then the other and then rolling it around in her mouth. She loved the soft, walnut like, rubbery corrugations of the scrotum as a texture against her tongue, loved the feel of the egg shapes moving within. But she loved everything about a penis. Carol moved back up the shaft, this time sideways as if she was a dog with a stick or bone in its mouth. Some stick! And it certainly felt like it had a bone in it!

From the wrinkled corrugations of the scrotum to the wonderful silky smoothness of the head of the penis. A feminine smoothness, not really masculine at all, yet so much part of that most male of things, a penis. So smooth against her cheek, so nice to rub her whole face against it, let it slide to and fro across her skin.

Carol sucked. Carol just loved to suck. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened and in it went, so big and smooth, such a lovely thing to suckle upon. She was not too enthusiastic, was careful, she did not want Mr Girrson coming before his lips and tongue brought her off.

She lifted herself off his face and unstoppered her mouth, "Is that all fine, Mr Girrson?"

"Lovely, Carol, it's quite marvellous being so, err, intimate with you and you are so wet. I mean really wet."

Lovely to hover there above him and then let herself down slowly and feel the tip of his tongue touching her, evidently straining to reach her but she only allowing him to flick the very edges of her inner lips as they hung down for a little while before she sat down on his face and got the full effect.

Carol could feel herself on the edge and, of course, the building feeling brought on an enhanced enthusiasm to suck. She was still coming when a certain attempted thrusting of hips indicated Mr Girrson was going to join her. It was so good feeling his hard erection thrusting at and into her mouth as if it was her vagina and then the result - hot, thick liquid pulsing into her mouth. Mmmm! So real not like imagining Mike's when he was hundreds of miles from her. So smooth as it slid down her throat. Lovely to have Mr Girrson's ejaculate as she shuddered against his thrusting tongue.

One more night without her husband, well not that even that actually, as Mike had told her he expected to be back about two in the morning. Carol had thought of visiting Mr Girrson but had resisted the temptation. She rather thought she might have worn him out for one thing and her use of her second penis was becoming, perhaps, a bit too regular. She was becoming a little to used to having a reserve supply of semen and hardness 'on tap.'

She had told Mike he could wake her if he wanted to fuck or, and it had seemed funny at the time when she had suggested it on the 'phone, to say he could just slap on some lubrication and do the deed quickly without waking her. Unlikely she would not awake, but it rather excited her the idea of her man taking her in her sleep, her big strong husband just using her. After all, was that not what she wanted to do with his penis when he was asleep?

Carol was in the middle of a really nice dream when she became conscious she was not just being fucked in her dream but there was a man between her thighs for real. Her sex felt really sloshy. A little befuddled she wondered whether she been excited by her dream that much or had Mike - it was he - done what she said and just squirted or slapped a load of body lotion on her! She just lay there pretending to be asleep and all spread legs all floppy as her man took her; nice to feel his strength holding her; nice in a funny sort of way to feel so powerless as his manly organ worked her and, given his male strength, there really was nothing she could do but submit - not that she wanted to do anything else.