Edward and I had known each other since
college. Whenever he had
occasion to visit our city, as his business often required,
we'd meet for a drink or two,
bring each other up to date, and have a few laughs.
So it was that we were sitting
together in our favorite bar and talking about old times.
We were recalling various
embarrassing situations that we had got ourselves into
when we were in college. I
was recalling how, as a freshman, I had managed to get
drunk and my date had left
with a senior. "I lost her to an older man," was
how I described it laughingly, and
commented that now that I was an "older man" I didn't
have too much luck in luring
women away from younger men.
It was just about then when I noticed
a strikingly attractive young woman,
perhaps in her twenties, come in with a man who was
easily old enough to be her
father. I pointed her out to Edward, commenting
that were she not with her father I
would offer to buy her a drink. As we watched,
the couple sat down in a booth and
started behaving in a decidedly un-father-daughter fashion.
"Either he's immensely rich or that's
some really sicko incest going on there."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Edward replied.
"Some older men have a certain
something that causes younger women to ignore their
age. I've got some first hand
experience there."
"Oh? What happened?"
Edward looked at me for a minute, as
if he was making up his mind, and then
finally said, "Look, I'll tell you, but you've got to
promise not to let Carol know that I
told you." Carol was his wife, who I liked very
much but rarely saw because she
usually didn't often come to the city with him.
I vigorously swore that I would never
tell her.
We had, of course, often talked of our
sexual exploits in college, but once he
met Carol Edward had become quite the gentleman and
had never told me anything
about their private lives. What he then told me
was therefore all the more surprising
and, indeed, sufficiently shocking to me that his story
burned itself into my memory.
I've tried to write it here pretty much as he told it
to me.
EDWARD'S STORY
The first time I met Sy he was stark
naked. Considering that he was almost
70, he was in remarkable shape. He was thin, with
long, firm muscles on his arms
and legs like steel cables. When he flexed them,
his tendons were like rope. His
penis and testicles hung loosely between his legs, swaying
freely as he moved. Only
the looseness of his skin, suggesting he had once been
heavier, indicated his age. He
had just finished his workout and shower. As our
lockers were adjacent to each
other, we would frequently see each other after that,
and over the next weeks we
gradually became quite friendly.
Eventually, Sy invited me and Carol over
for dinner. Because Marguerite, his
wife, had been confined to a wheel chair since an accident
several years prior, Sy did
all the cooking and was, he said with characteristic
candor, "a great cook." And,
indeed, when we took him up on his invitation, the food
was excellent. It had been a
very pleasant meal, with lots of wine, and both Sy and
Marguerite were articulate and
interesting conversationalists. Marguerite was
as vivacious as she could be in a
wheel chair. Her face, while showing the wrinkles
of her age, still maintained a
youthful sexiness and was surrounded by silver hair
with flecks of gold that cascaded
over her shoulders. Her upper body was in great
shape, with a healthy bosom, but it
was apparent that under her slacks her legs had become
withered. As we were sitting
around the table after desert, Marguerite got me involved
in a detailed discussion of
her hobby of book preservation and restoration.
Sy offered to take Carol on a tour of
the house and the two of them left the room.
Marguerite finished a fairly erudite
description of a restoration project she
was working on, then stopped and looked at the door
Carol and Sy had left by, and
said, "You know, he's going to fuck her now."
"What?!?" It was such a sudden
change of pace that I couldn't believe I had
heard her right. I stared at her as she calmly
repeated her sentence.
"I'll bet you $10 that he fucks her this
evening," she added.
"That's ridiculous. Among other
things, he's almost twice her age."
"Well, I haven't been able to satisfy
Sy sexually since my accident, but he still
has strong urges, he still wakes up every morning with
a raging hard-on. So he
invites couples over and fucks the wives. I get
my excitement by betting. So how
about it, $10? Or is that too much to gamble on
your wife?
"Of course she'll resist him. I'll
bet the $10, but it's utterly absurd."
"Good," she said, "let's go watch them.
He's probably giving her a neck rub
now. But be sure to stay in the dark." With
that she wheeled her chair out the french
doors of the dining room and on to the terrace.
Walking behind her, I could see that
we had a good view through another set of french doors
into the living room, and
probably couldn't be seen as long as we stayed in the
shadows.
Sure enough, Carol was sitting on the
couch and Sy was sitting next to her,
massaging the back of her neck. "He's started
his you-look-stiff-let-me-loosen-your-
neck routine. He's got remarkable hands," Marguerite
commented. "Next he'll offer
to do her shoulders." As if reading from the same
script, Sy began on my wife's
shoulders. "Why don't you lie down so I can loosen
the muscles better," Marguerite
said as if she were speaking Sy's lines in a play, and
as she said them, Carol did
indeed lie down on the couch.
"I can do your back better if I can get
at the skin," Marguerite continued, as
Sy began unbuttoning Carol's blouse. From the
look on Carol's face and the way her
body responded as he worked her shoulders and back,
it was apparent that Sy was a
superb masseur. "Lets get this out of the way,"
Marguerite said as Sy unsnapped
Carol's bra. Carol offered no resistance.
She clearly was enjoying the massage.
"You want to pay me the $10 now, or wait to see it all?"
"For crying out loud, it's just a back
rub," I said, but I was beginning to have
some doubts. I could see how Carol's body was
responding. He seemed to be playing
her like a violin. He worked her shoulders, massaging
them and then the muscles of
her arms, all the while pushing her blouse down her
arms, until she, automatically it
seemed, pulled her arms one by one out of the sleeves
of her blouse.
Marguerite continued to offer Sy's dialogue.
"Let me get your feet, too," and
Carol kicked her shoes off. "I don't want to put
a run in your stockings," was the next
line. Carol sat up, holding the loose blouse and
bra against her breasts with one arm
while she used the other arm to pull her panty hose
down from under her skirt and off.
Sy started working on her feet and after a few minutes,
it didn't surprise me, began
working his way up her legs. If I had any expectation
that Carol would object, it
disappeared as Sy's hands rubbed and massaged first
her calves and then, pushing her
skirt up, her thighs. Carol's spread her legs
to give him better access to her thighs,
and soon the skirt was bunched up around her hips with
the bottom edge of her pink
panties showing.
"We better get this off so it doesn't
get all wrinkled." Marguerite supplied the
words as Sy first unbuttoned and then removed my wife's
skirt, leaving her lying there
on her belly with nothing but her panties left on.
"Surely now you agree you've lost
your $10."
I should have stopped it then, should
have gone in the living room and
stopped it, but I stood there frozen. There was
no doubt that I found it exciting to see
Sy's agile hands progress over my wife's body as she
gradually shed her clothes. I
could feel my erection straining against my pants.
I rationalized that it wouldn't be a
fair bet if I interrupted, but that only was an excuse
to continue watching. I actually
wanted to see him continue.
Sy's hands were now kneading Carol's
buttocks, his fingers digging into the
soft flesh, and her hips were grinding into the couch
in rhythm with his massaging.
Then he worked his way up her back to her shoulders
again. "Why don't you turn
over so I can finish your shoulders?" Marguerite
gave sound to the motion of Sy's
lips, and Carol turned over, still holding her blouse
and bra over her breasts. But that
served as no impediment to Sy. His hands worked
her shoulders and the muscles in
her upper arms, up and down, each time pushing her blouse
and bra a little bit further,
until gradually they slid off her body and onto the
floor next to the couch.
Carol lay there with her eyes closed,
her head lolling from side to side, her
breasts now completely bare, and even from where I watched
on the terrace I could
see that her nipples were erect. Soon his hands
covered those nipples and gently
massaged her breasts. I could tell by her expression
that she was in that other world
she gets in when her body responds to sexual pleasure
and her mind opens up to let it
happen.
With one hand still on her breast, Sy
worked her lower abdomen with his
other, pushing her panties down as he did. It
didn't take long before her pubic hair
was exposed. His fingers found the lips of her
vulva and began to rub her clitoris,
which I knew well by this time would be fully swollen.
Once he had done this, he
took his hand off her breast and pulled her panties
completely off. Then his fingers
began to disappear between her lips and I could see
Carol's pelvis straining against
them, trying to capture them. I knew I wasn't
going to interfere.
As he slid his fingers in and out of
my wife's vagina, Sy used his other hand
to remove his own clothing. Soon he was naked
and I could see that hard body that I
had seen so often in the locker room, except that now
there was no loose, dangling
penis, but rather a menacing red erection projecting
out at an upward angle from his
taut body. His fingers, which now glistened with
Carol's juices, continued to slide in
and out of her as he positioned himself between her
legs.
This was it. I was about to watch
another penis penetrate Carol's vagina and I
found myself unable to move, unable to make any attempt
to stop this outrageous act.
Instead, I watched with an erotic intensity, excited
and wanting only to see the rest of
this scene.
My own erection throbbed in my pants
as I watched the head of Sy's penis
disappear into my wife's welcoming vagina. He
buried it completely and I watched as
it appeared again glistening, and then disappeared and
reappeared, over and over. My
heart was pounding and my breath was coming in rhythm
with his pumping.
"It's exciting, isn't it?" Marguerite
had rolled her wheel chair up beside me,
and placed her hand over my erection. "Do you
want me to toss you off?"
I couldn't take my eyes off Sy's ass
rising up and down and my wife straining
clutching at him. My mouth was completely dry.
In a whisper, I barely choked out
the word, "Yes."
Then, as I watched the tremors begin
to race through Carol's body,
Marguerite deftly unzipped my pants and pulled my penis
out. Carol was convulsing,
her head whipping from side to side. Sy's thrusts
were becoming harder and fiercer.
It only took a few strokes of Marguerite's surprisingly
velvet touch for me to erupt.
Marguerite was ready with a hankie to capture my semen
as I watched Sy's buttocks
clench in his final thrust. Spasms continued to
shake Carol as Sy finally collapsed on
her breasts.
Marguerite had me cleaned up and zipped
up, the hankie no longer in sight,
and she somehow pulled me along side of her wheel chair
back into the dining room.
"Pay up," was all she said. Almost in a daze,
I handed over the $10. She tucked the
money away and we stayed there frozen until finally
the door opened and Carol
walked in, her face flushed.
Sy followed, his usual ebullient self.
"We had quite an exciting tour."
Neither Carol nor I said anything about
the "tour" on our way home, nor the
rest of that night, nor the next day. But the
next night, after we had gotten into bed
naked next to each other, Carol said, "Edward, I've
got to tell you something. During
our tour, Sy seduced me." As if in ignorance,
I asked for the details, and as she told
them to me, describing what and how she felt, we had
some of the wildest sex we had
had in months. Each part of her description caused
my blood to pump faster, the
adrenalin to rise, and my heart to pound more, as I
vividly recalled the scene. It must
have had the same effect on Carol, because she became
more and more abandoned,
and her descriptions became louder and louder, as we
attacked each other more and
more passionately. Over and over again, I kept
asking her about each detail until we
were both exhausted.
The next night, I confessed that I had
been watching. "And you made me
confess to you as if you didn't know!" She then
insisted that I describe in detail what
I had seen and felt. So, as I went through all
the details again, even describing the
feel of Marguerite's hand, we repeated the exuberant
sex of the previous night, my
description exciting us as much as the touch of our
bodies.
It had cost me $10, but Sy's hands had
given us three of the most exciting
nights we had ever had, and the promise that our sex
could continue even when we
grew old.