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utterly faithful main page

Utterly faithful appendix 2; with a much older man

I went down to our local drugstore.  I bought some nail varnish, some
condoms, and a few other things.
I noticed the man who owned the store eyeing me; at first I thought he was
worried I would steal something, but then I decided that he was just
enjoying the view.
That was really very naughty, I thought; he looked too old for such things.
At least 60, maybe 70; I find it hard to tell the age of European people.
I was wearing a summer dress that was cut little bit low on top and little
bit high on the bottom.  He seemed like a nice old man; I wondered what
pleasures were left to him at his age.
Impulsively, I bent over to look at something on a lower shelf; I knew that
my short skirt would reveal the bottom of my buttocks.  It cost me nothing,
I thought to myself.
"Will that be all Mrs. Harper?"  He asked as I brought my purchases to the
counter.
"You know who I am?"  I asked him in surprise.
"It's a small town Mrs. Harper; of course I know."
I suddenly realized that I should have gone farther afield to buy my
condoms.  I hoped he didn't notice that I had taken several of each size.
I realized that he was staring at me; he had pale skin, blue eyes, and
sparse gray hair.  He was thin and tall.
"Yes."  I said, suddenly remembering that he had asked me a question.
"Your husband has just gone out to the rigs for a month or two?"  He asked
as he slowly dropped the condoms into a paper bag.
"Yes, that's right."  I said nervously.
"Well, you can always call on me if you need anything."  He said, staring
straight into my eyes.
What a naughty old fellow, I thought to myself.

When I told the story to Arnold, he wanted there to be more.
"But that's all there is to the story."  I told him.
"Well, it's a good beginning;" he said, "next time when I get back, you can
tell me the rest."
"You mean you'd want to hear about me and the old man?"  I asked him
doubtfully.
"I think it would be hot."  He said.
"Okay."  I told him.  I'll do anything for my husband, I thought; if he
wanted me to sleep with the pharmacist, I would even do that.

"You seem to know much about me, but I know nothing about you."  I said to
the pharmacist the following week.
"What would you like to know?"  He asked me with a smile.
"Are you married?  Do you have children?"
I didn't think I could really go through this; he was just too old! He was
thin and dried up, he had no color at all.
"I was married, but my wife died some years back.  We had a few kids, but
they moved to the city."
He had a thick regional accent, and I could barely follow his speech even
though I had lived in the area for some time.
"So you're all alone here.  Like I am."  I said.
"Well, you know your husband is coming back at some point."  He said.
His eyes were nice, I told myself; still clear and healthy even though the
rest of him wasn't.
"But it's so long he's away each time."  I said; "I get very lonely,
especially at night."
"I know what you're talking about."  He said, "So do I.  Especially at
night."
There was silence in the shop, as we stared at each other.
"Why don't you come over and watch a video with me this evening?"  He asked
nervously.
I couldn't believe it was so easy. "That would be nice."  I said.

He seemed very hesitant and unsure of himself for someone with so much
experience.  I sat next to him on the couch, and we watched the film
together.  He didn't touch me at all for the first hour.
But I knew he wanted to; I knew he wanted it very much.  I simply waited.
I was wearing one of my favorite dresses, it buttoned up to my neck but
fitted me very closely, and only came down to my mid thigh.  My hair was
lustrously brushed, and I had been careful with my makeup.  I'd used some
perfume, as well.
He put his arm around my shoulders at last, and I moved a little closer to
him.  I reached across his lap, and took his other hand.
I tried to avoid looking at his face; I was resolved to let him have his way
with me, but I found him very unattractive physically. The story of his long
life seemed to be written on his face, with many more lines than my story
has.

After the film ended, I turned to look at him.  His face was so close to
mine, I could feel his breath.  He had strong even teeth; he looked at me,
and I could see his intense desire. His old eyes were bright with it, with
the possibility that he might be so lucky as to have me, only 20 years old
at the time, as his lover.
Slowly, very slowly, our lips came together.  I shuddered with a strange
mixture of feelings; I couldn't do it with such an old man, how could I?
But my husband wanted me to do it, and the man who was kissing me clearly
did as well. How could I deny them both? It would be selfish of me to refuse
the old man's advances, although my stomach was twisting with repulsion as
we kissed.
He was a nice man, I thought; Even though I found him very unattractive, I
must go through with it, I must let him do with me what he wanted to do.
Because my husband wanted me to.
I wasn't sure why, but Arnold liked to hear about me being with other men.
Perhaps I thought, it was because Arnold was considerably older than I, and
had much more experience than I did.  Perhaps he wanted me to also have the
experience of other lovers, that we might be more equal.
I sat together with the old man, holding hands and kissing for some time.
He told me I was very beautiful, and his hand rested on my leg.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to relax, to accept this thing that was
going to happen.  It would be all right, I told myself; it would be fine. It
would do me no harm, and would bring great pleasure to the old man. It might
not be very pleasurable for me, but that wasn't so important.
His hands were smooth and gentle, and seemed to know what they wanted.  They
slowly lifted the hem of my dress higher.  I lifted myself up so he could
slide it under me and up to the middle of my back.
He lowered his face between my smooth naked thighs, and kissed my legs.
After some time, he removed my panties. I shuddered in anticipation of what
I was about to endure;
His fingers stroked my thighs and hips as his old face went to my groin and
began to lick. I closed my eyes, and thought of my husband.

The old man licked me with great tenderness, running his tongue gently
across my lower lips and sensitive parts. He kissed me there, as his fingers
stroked my torso.
The sensations were pleasing, and as I relaxed, I began to enjoy them.
His age seemed less important now, his wrinkled skin of little consequence.
He was friendly and kind, he had wisdom and experience.  He would do me no
harm, I repeated to myself.
In the culture of my country, we are taught always to obey and respect our
elders.  To attend to their needs.  I convinced myself that was all I was
doing, attending to the needs of Mr. McCann and of my husband.  The
sacrifice I was making for them was very small, just a couple of hours of my
time. And actually, what he was busy doing between my legs was even quite
pleasant.
The old pharmacist stood, and took my hand.
"Let's go to the bedroom."  He said.
I was impressed with how meticulously clean and neat his house was.  He
turned down the bed as I removed my clothing.
"You are so very beautiful."  He said, looking at me with great
appreciation.
I kept silent, since I could not return the compliment.  I got into the bed,
and waited for him as he undressed himself.
As I expected, his penis was pale, thin, and shriveled, like the rest of
him.  Despite being desperately thin everywhere else, he had a distinct
punch of a belly. I shuddered slightly as he pressed his aged body against
me.
He began to kiss and stroke me again, and once more I forced myself to
relax.  It was better when I couldn't see very much of him; his skin felt ok
against me, warm and friendly just like younger people's skin. He hummed in
pleasure as I began to fondle his old cock.
He seemed to be in no hurry at all, he seemed happy to just kiss me and
stroke my naked body. I found that kind of flattering, but I would have
preferred to get it over with as soon as possible.
 His penis grew and became hard in my hands; I was surprised somehow.
It was no longer shriveled, nor thin.  Although four times my age, the organ
in my hand was quite formidable.
At last, he wanted to put it inside my body.  Surprisingly, I realized that
I wanted him to as well. I was curious, I wanted to know how it would feel
to really do it with a man so very old.
"Andrew, shouldn't you use something?"
"It's okay.  I had a vasectomy long ago."
"Are you sure there's no danger?"
"Relax."  He said, as he began to push his old organ slowly into my waiting
body.
He seemed to savor every millimeter of penetration; gently, tenderly, he
entered me.  I felt his big old penis moving deeper and deeper within
myself, until at last there was no more; he filled my young body with
himself, and we were coupled together, a strange unit of old and young,
European and oriental, pinned together by an ancient dick that somehow still
worked as new.
He was different than anyone else I had known.  He seemed to do it in slow
motion, easing himself out gently before carefully pushing himself in again.
It wasn't unpleasant, and somehow not too threatening to me.  But it didn't
make me achieve climax for a long time.
I didn't mind that; I was not primarily here for my own pleasure, but for
his, and mostly so that I could tell Arnold about it when he came home.
And yet, it was strangely stimulating. The old man went on and on, as if
this was the ultimate moment of his existence, and he mustn't waste a second
of it. My orgasm came slowly over me, not very intensely. But like the act
we were engaged in, it seemed to linger for a time; held in place by Mr.
McCann's long slow steady strokes.
I held his skinny old body tightly as he finally ejaculated. It made me
proud, as if I had accomplished something worthwhile. As though I had done a
good deed.

The next day I thought about my sexual encounter as I worked in the garden.
I felt good, I felt energetic yet relaxed.  I reviewed the night's events in
my mind, and I found myself thinking of my elderly lover quite fondly.
I remembered the feeling of him releasing himself inside me; I had to smile,
and I felt a small twinge in my groin.
But that evening, when I heard the small knocking at my back door, I was not
pleased to find that it was him.
"I hope I'm not intruding." he said.
"No, not at all." I answered, "Please come in.  How did you get here?"
"I walked across the field.  Don't worry, nobody saw me."
I felt relieved at that; I checked that the curtains were tightly drawn, and
then found myself feeling quite unhappy that he was here with me, in the
privacy and intimacy of my own house.
Yet I couldn't tell him to go; the old man was my lover.
I made tea, and we drank it together quietly in the parlor.
I didn't like the way he looked at me, so lustfully; I thought he should act
more his age.  I felt threatened by him; I didn't want to couple with him
again.
He put his arm around my shoulders, and kissed me gently; I had an urge to
pull away, to tell him he must leave, but I hesitated to do so. He was a
guest in my house, he was my elder. Perhaps he would realize that he was
unwelcome, and leave without me having to say anything rude, I thought.
He put his other hand on my knee. I hoped it wouldn't travel higher.
Like the first time, he progressed very slowly.  I was very passive this
time, doing nothing to encourage him. I didn't want him, he was just too
old, too unattractive.
But he wouldn't stop; the dirty old man just kept right on going, ignoring
my obvious lack of desire.  He pulled my clothes off of me, and lowered his
grey balding head between my thighs again.
I didn't want him, I repeated to myself; and yet, I knew that I had let him
go too far already. I was naked, and his slippery tongue was in my groin.
Andrew was quite good, I realized; better than the younger men I had been
with. His lips and tongue were working my sensitive parts like an
instrument, gently making the music of bliss there.
His eyes were bright with happiness; and so I surrendered to the inevitable,
and stroked his scalp while he licked me.
He stood and removed his clothes; I looked at his body, trying
unsuccessfully to find him attractive.
When he got in the bed with me, I went down on him; I thought perhaps I
could make him come in my mouth, and then it would be over quickly.
The old cock slowly hardened at my attentions. As I said, he was generously
endowed; but his was not a very pretty organ. It was pasty white, with huge
blue arteries standing proud on the surface. It seemed a bit lumpy, as if
damaged.
I sucked it, softly at first, and then harder. I licked it and stroked it to
the best of my ability, but he wouldn't come.
At last, he pulled me up onto the bed, and rolled me onto me back. I made no
objection as he spread my legs wide and kneeled once more in the valley of
my exposure. As he put his hard old member to my not quite willing entrance
and gently worked his way inside me.
Sweetly and slowly, he made love to me.  We kissed as he filled me with his
big old penis, once more massaging my insides with his gentle steady motion.
He was warm inside me, as warm and hard as any man. I looked into his eyes,
and found that his age was not very important at all. Why should it be? He
was a good lover, he knew how to use his body for the pleasure of us both.
He used his lack of strength to advantage, making it last longer than anyone
else I had known before him.
But before we were through, I began to urge him to greater efforts; holding
his ass in my hands, I pulled him into myself repeatedly, and he did what I
wanted, giving me his big old cock hard enough; and as I felt his
ejaculation inside myself, I held him tightly and felt that wonderful
feeling.
I wanted to talk afterwards, but he fell asleep.
It was the beginning of a relationship that would last for 6 years; I would
spend most evenings with Andrew when Arnold was away, and many nights.
Andrew was the one who taught me most of my English, correcting my grammar
and vocabulary. I enjoyed being with him, reading together, watching films
on TV, or just talking; I never wanted sex from him, but of course he wanted
it from me. I always accommodated him, and it wasn't unpleasant really.
As time went on, it became more difficult for him to become erect and even
more difficult for me to make him come. I had to dress very provocatively,
in the sexiest underthings I could find. I let him spank my bottom, which
helped him a lot, but left me sore afterwards. He liked me to dance for him
and strip slowly like bad girls in films, and bite his nipples.
As his strength decreased, I would usually be the one on top, moving around
to stir his big old thing within me as I talked dirty to him until he came.

utterly faithful main page

Appendix 1; the first story, with another woman and her husband

Appendix 3; gang bang

If you enjoyed this story [or even if you hated it], please write and let me know; mailto:storyace@hotmail.com