Eightieth

He let her settle down: when she caught her breath, she asked in total amazement, "JEEEEEZUS! That can't have taken twenty seconds! How did you DO THAT!?"

He grinned, said "Technique. Practice. Knowledge. Caring about my partner. I get most of my enjoyment out of giving my partner pleasure. I can't imagine what you mean that you find it difficult to come! Damn few women can come that quickly, or that hard. You're a lucky one, Joan."

She was suddenly speechless, again... in thirty seconds, a whole lifetime of unfortunate experiences and deep self-doubt, destroyed!

He took the initiative. As she held onto his cock, he began a long, slow trip with lips and tongue, right down her midline, starting at the tip of her breast-bone. He explored her navel, then continued south, and as he neared his obvious target, Joan caught his head between her hands and made him stop, then turned his face towards her own. "Andrew... I know, at least in theory that is, where you're going and what you intend to do. But... I guess it's true confessions time. I've never experienced that, so I really don't know what to do. Isn't that silly?"

Andrew felt her tension, replied to ease it. "Silly? Damned surely so! If nobody has ever gone down on you properly, then you've had a lousy suite of lovers. It's my favorite sport, Joan. I simply adore doing it. And by most accounts, it gives women about the most intense pleasure humanly possible. We should help you find out if that's right, don't you think?"

She shook her head -- at first he thought she meant "No way, not on me you don't!" but he was wrong. "Andrew, more true confessions. I haven't had a lot of lovers. I've had sex with exactly one man in all my life -- my husband. He had, well, an incredibly low sex drive, so I gather from my friends' analyses. I married him at twenty-five, and I suppose we had sex every month or two, but as far as he was concerned sex wasn't a big emotional deal, it was just to try to have kids. I think he was relieved when I was diagnosed as absolutely infertile, and he simply quit."

She shrugged expressively: "Andrew, I was only thirty four -- that was forty six years ago, long before you were even born! It wasn't until I was FORTY that I finally had my very first orgasm. I did it for myself, following a sex 'self-improvement' book. You have no idea how proud I was of my discovery! In fact, every orgasm I've ever had has been self-induced." A giggle broke through her seriousness: "Every single solitary one except for the most recent one, that is. Yours. Ours? I mean that tornado that blew through here a couple of minutes ago. Or was that two or three orgasms, not just one? I couldn't really tell - I was too busy to count!"

Andrew waited: she was done for the moment. Then he said gently "Big adventure coming for thee, then. Your job is to lie back, relax, and let me give you the best E-ticket ride of your whole life. Okay?"

She nodded, bit her lip, released his ears. His breath wafted over her clit, she shivered with anticipation, arms and thighs covered in goose-bumps, breath on hold, heart thundering, chest and armpits drenched with sweat. His mouth hovered at breathing distance as he slipped an index finger deep into her pussy, then added something entirely new - the middle went fully into her bottom.

Before she could sort out all the sensations, his mouth descended. Thirty seconds later she was convulsing, thrashing, bouncing in a fury of climaxes, multiple, extended, repeated, bounding from one impossible height to another with astonishing rapidity. She held on to his hair with one fist, jammed the other into her mouth to keep from informing the entire world of her ecstasy.

Minutes later he let her subside, exhausted and dripping sweat, so deeply flushed across chest and shoulders that he could see it in the moonlight.

He disengaged his hand, slid up along her belly, helped her wrap her legs around his waist, and entered her at a glacial pace, settling his face towards hers as they joined in ultra-slow motion. The long, slow glide and blending seemed to simultaneously dispel the tension and regenerate it, but in a different form.

She pulled his head down, took possession of his mouth with hers as he bottomed out. The only words she managed to say before sensations took over yet again were "Ohmigawd. Thank you!"

Afterwards, they lay together with him on top, carrying his weight on elbows and knees. He hadn't let himself finish, preferring to enjoy watching her.

She sorted through all that had happened, finally asked him in a tiny voice "Andrew, I haven't, we haven't, made you come yet, have we? Am I doing something wrong?"

He laughed, complimented her on being able to keep track of such a thing, and explained. He liked watching, being an active participant and not utterly driven towards his own momentary pleasure, she'd done far better at pleasing him than most of his lovers ever did their first time together, and of course, they would shortly make him come, not to worry in the least about that! And would she like to try his absolute favorite sexual thing?

Yes, indeed, she would. Whatever he wanted, if she could provide it, she would do so, without hesitation or reservation.

He arranged her to his purpose -- froglike, with widespread knees, face pressed into the pillow. He knelt behind her: she felt incredibly exposed -- and that made her wet and tingly again so fast it astounded her. He had her spread her buttocks wide to his view, her bottom pointed straight into the moonlight, the exposure making her excitement increase by the moment.

A tongue-tip delicately around her anus, then deep inside made her breath go rough and choppy: the sensations were peculiar. Nice peculiar. Then the tongue investigated her pussy entryway for a second, finally concentrating on her clit's underside, pouring gasoline on her inner fires.

Then a moment of cool abandonment, and a finger slipping into her bottom: suddenly she understood and it made her heart skip a beat: he meant to have her bottom!

His mouth returned, laid down a coating of slippery wetness, then he was squatting behind her, his cock was sliding deeply into her pussy, bottoming out in a new way against her cervix. She muttered up to him "I like THAT! It's sort of animalistic. You're really deep inside. Feels good. REALLY good!"

He slid out, placed his cock-tip against her anus, pressed. "Joan, if you like me being deep inside you, you haven't felt anything yet. Relax. Big fuck coming, and I'm going to get pretty urgent shortly. Lots of energy and flailing about. You are responsible for your clit... I'm just going to be entirely too busy. Okay?"

She bit her lip, nodded, then whispered "Okay!" and pushed back against him.

Together they slid him effortlessly into her pulsing, clamping rectum. He didn't stop until her buttocks were firmly plastered to his front. "You wanted deep, lady, and now you have it. No man including me will ever get any deeper into you. After all, your pussy has a closed upper end, and your bottom doesn't."

He began to move with long, slow, careful strokes. A sensation vaguely like fire seemed to flood out of her bottom where they were joined, flowing over her buttocks like oil spreading on water, down her thighs... it kept moving until it totally enveloped her, until she was almost screaming out loud with the sensations, until her fingers on her clit set her at the very razor's edge of the most intense orgasm of her life.

She could feel him pounding deep inside, the promised male urgency now fully developed. Each stroke made her feel that surely on the next one his cock would reach the back of her throat. Then a long, breathless pause. His hands went beneath her to catch and cup her hanging breasts, capturing her nipples roughly between thumbs and forefingers. When he squeezed, she exploded. Inside her, he followed suit.

A tiny piece of her mind continued to function, counted the throbbing spurts of semen as he sprayed her insides. Seven. A lucky number?

They lay together spooning, spent, silent. Drowsily she asked "Andrew... Would you be interested in staying right here the rest of the night?"

He squeezed hard and kissed the back of her neck as he answered: "I thought you'd never ask! But I need clarification -- does "here" mean just "in bed with me" or does it mean "in my butt?"

She giggled, responded strongly: "BOTH!"

Two AM: Andrew was asleep: she had dozed off with him, then in a short while awakened quite ready for more. She investigated: he had half a hardon already, even in his torpor. Amazing! Her touches first wakened him, then brought him fully hard, wordlessly. He rolled over onto his back, cock proudly in the air: she tilted it up and said "Lovely thing you have here. Would it be alright if I tried something? I'd like to be on top. Is that okay with you? I've never done that."

It was okay with him. Ten minutes later, with her soft-hanging breasts being lovingly caressed non-stop by his palms, she generated a long progression of climaxes, starting softly and gently, ending finally in a crescendo with her thighs shaking, leaning forward so that Andrew could nurse to his heart's content.

He complimented her again -- very few women could actually come that way.

She preened slightly, collapsed slowly onto his chest, then slid off his still rampant cock. "One more thing, please, teacher mine?"

Anything her heart desired, he responded.

With a little grin she told him "We need to do something for YOU again. Can't be selfish, you know. Generates bad karma." Her mouth engulfed his cock, another first, a final virginity to be discarded. Joan found the shape and texture and process completely fascinating. She was a fine pupil, both attentive to instructions and innovative. When he was straining upwards with his feet balled into fists, she paused long enough to ask "Is it okay if I make you come this way? Would you like that?"

He allowed as how it would be okay, and YES it would please him, she had his full permission to continue, and RIGHT NOW por favor!

His convulsions made her feel intensely powerful. She studied the semen, then swallowed. When he could speak again, she snuggled up against his chest and said "That was special. It's ALL been special, of course, but somehow I particularly liked getting your sperm in my mouth. It was like a gift, about as intimate as ever one could be."

He squeezed her and replied "Well, this whole night and all our activities have been a gift -- in both directions, believe me! You can call it my eightieth birthday gift to you if you'd like!"

She raised up and kissed him hard, then shook her head. "Nope. Can't do that, sorry. Birthday presents only count as such when they are delivered on the very day itself. Which means, Sirrah, that you are going to have to do every bit of this again two days from now. That is, if you want to give me a proper and very inventive birthday present!"

He laughed, returned the kiss, slid his hand between her legs, struck fingers into her pussy and bottom and waved them about, generating sparks. "Hell, lady, that's two days off. Maybe we should do a full-dress rehearsal tomorrow, to be sure we get it right on the big day?"

Six AM came. Joan woke to find him hard again, pressing into her back as they spooned. Quick as lightning she rolled him onto his back, straddled him, sat down to drive him fully into her pussy. Then she raised up, repositioned him at her anus, winced as she found the angle and pressure a bit mis-set. Together they adjusted things, and voila, the problem evaporated.

As she settled and took up the needed rhythm she grinned down at him, eye-locked in the early morning brightness, and said "I'm going to get one more contribution out of you before breakfast. And who in the world would have thought I'd ever be doing this? In my BUTT for god's sake. And loving every second of it, too. Hold still, I want to do this all myself. At least, I want to do all the moving myself. Okay with you?"

It was. And she got her contribution. Eventually.

Andrew arrived at the breakfast table before Joan: he'd just hugged Aunt Mabel good morning and sat down when Joan appeared, looking positively radiant.

Mabel said "My, but don't YOU look chipper this morning! Sleep well enough?" Joan hugged her and replied that yes, indeed, she had... and she'd had some of the most AMAZING and delightful dreams as well.

Mabel harrumphed, muttered something about being told the dreams later, privately. Joan sat down across from Andrew, and Mabel turned back to work on coffee at the stove. Under the table, hidden by the old-fashioned red-and-white checked vinyl tablecloth, Joan stretched her foot out, settled it snugly in Andrew's lap: she was delighted to find a resurrection already well under way, and so soon! It boded well, proved that the whole of last night's wonderment was not a dream, not a one-shot wonder.

At the stove, Mabel said without turning around "I'm afraid that I have to go to my office today -- I still serve on doctoral committees. Probably I'll not be home before five, earliest."

Andrew grinned at Joan: "That's okay. We understand. Joan and I seem to be pretty compatible -- I'm sure we can find something interesting to do."

Joan patted her foot against his renewed hardon.

Mabel was lucky she was turned away, didn't have to meet them face to face for a couple of seconds -- otherwise she'd have cracked up entirely. As both an accomplished electronics engineer and a confirmed closet voyeur, she'd spent most of the night monitoring and recording her guests' antics, using the two ultra-mini high-resolution low-light video cameras she had installed some months ago in each guest bedroom. Those cameras and their recorders would (of course!) be running all day whilst she was gone. Who could predict what she might find on the tapes? Right now, she took the moment she needed to compose both her face and her reply, then took a deep breath and turned to face them with the coffeepot in her hand.

"Oh, I'm sure you can amuse yourselves. We're all adults here. Now -- who wants coffee for starters?"