Senior Citizen's Eden
Chapter 35
Jeff
Jeff had just turned 75 when he entered Carter Court. Unlike some of the other men in the home, Jeff looked forward to his arrival because of his penchant for sex with older men and women. He found this difficult to explain to himself and others, but now, with lots of time on his hands, he had long moments to reflect on his proclivity for seniors. Carter Court offered him ample opportunities for experimentation and discussion and he quickly got into the swing of things. In fact, on his first day, he met old Charlie and his friend Jim and spent the day and night exploring his and their sexuality. During the day, they wasted no time in getting into bed and loving each other, each taking time to explore the most inner recesses of their bodies. Jeff, in particular, liked to rest his head between Jim's legs as Jim lay on his back, Jeff's cock lying near Jim's mouth. 
Charlie lay in a similar position to Jeff's, his head between Jeff's legs, where both Jim and Charlie could partake in this agape, this feast of love. In the evening, after dinner, Jeff returned to Charlie and Jim's apartment and discussed, long into the night, their sexual desires and theorized on how they arrived there. 
Jeff gave his version first. "I'm pretty sure that my sexual fantasies derive from my youthful experiences at home as related to my mother and father. I remember, in particular my mother's words, 'He's a love child,' spoken to our next door neighbor's wife. I was nine at the time, just coming into sexual awareness and I wondered what those words meant. I had an inkling, but I wasn't sure. I sought out my older next-door neighbor and asked him the meaning of those words. Red was quick with his answer. 'It means,' he said, 'that your mother and father had sex at a late date in their life and you were the result.' Thinking about it, my mother was 48 when I was born and my father, 52. At age nine, my mother was 57 and my father 61."
Charlie interjected, "My experience was similar in that I used to hear them fucking during the night, my bedroom being near theirs."
Jim nodded, "My experience was the same as Charlie's except that I took it one step further and climbed out onto a flat roof and crawled toward their bedroom window and watched. But I was more enamored with their passion and the vision of my father's hard cock driving into my mother's cunt always leading to violent and magnificent orgasms. But, still, it was the fact that they were older that enchanted me."
Jeff continued with his story. "My sexual awareness was beginning to manifest itself at 9. This new bit of information piqued my interest even more. I began to observe my mother and father. I began to listen in the long nights to the whispers and moans emanating from their bedroom. Once, feeling ill, I walked into their bedroom and saw my father atop my mother. He dismounted hurriedly, but I was able to convince them of my need to sleep with them and, snuggled in the middle of their warm bodies, I became aware of the smells and sensations of warm bodies. I felt the outline of my mother's body pressed against me. I looked beneath the covers for signs of sexuality, noting, for example, the outline of my father's cock pressed hard in his underwear. Sometimes I was rewarded with a view of his cockhead oozing from the leg portion of his boxer shorts. Once, his boxer shorts were open and I visited with his hard cock, watching it stand upright, throbbing. My mother's nightie was another temptation. Often, in the restlessness of sleep, she would raise her legs, forcing the bottom of the nightie above her hips, exposing her vagina. 
I watched intently as her breathing moved her vaginal walls and exposed the wetness of the inner labia. Once, startled by a dream, I crawled into their bed on my father's side and slept. During the night, movement woke me and I lay, hardly breathing, sensing the movement of my father's hips towards my mother. I was aware that he had his hard cock in her but could not see the action of its movement in and out. My stillness paid off. At one point, I heard him whisper that I was in a deep sleep and that they could proceed with abandon. I watched him remove his boxer shorts and, she, her nightie. For a 62 year old, he was physically fit and, from my vantage point, had a 6 to 7 inch cock, well formed and uncut. He rose over her and inserted his cock into her mouth. The silhouette of his hard, wet cock sliding in and out of her mouth was plainly evident. 
Several minutes passed. While he fucked her mouth with his hard cock, I could see her right index finger probing her cunt, her legs raised in a V, her toes curled sensuously upward. More whispers and then they reversed their positions. His head now turned to her vagina while his cock still fucked her mouth. I could see his tongue flicker in and out of her cunt while the rest of his body kept its rhythmic fucking of her mouth. I sensed their passions increasing. His and her tongue searched each other's assholes and their passions increased, almost with abandon, ignoring the fact that I was in bed with them. At one point I heard my mother ask if I were asleep or not. My father's reply was muffled but I understood him to say, "Don't worry. He's deep asleep. And even if he isn't, he might learn something from watching us." It satisfied her and back they went to their lovemaking. I sensed that my father might even get some enjoyment out of knowing that I was awake and watching. Their anal lovemaking took over now. He had her kneel on the side of the bed in a doggie position. He slipped out of bed and stood behind her and gently tongued her asshole. Her muffled moans increased in volume, giving way to her passion, neither paying any attention to my presence. 
Several minutes passed and he stood upright. I could only see my mother in a doggie position, her tits swaying before my face, her ass elevated. I caught a momentary glimpse of Dad's cock as he positioned himself to drive his hard cock into her asshole. They moaned in unison at the penetration. He fucked her this way for several minutes, alternating between deep strokes with his hard cock and withdrawing and sucking her asshole deeply. Their passions intensified. He climbed back into the bed. She lay on her back, her legs upraised. His hard wet cock glistened in the darkness as it penetrated her wet and hot cunt. She begged him to fuck her. He accommodated her wishes by driving his shaft deep into her cunt. The entire bed shook. My head, just one foot from his penetration, watched his hard cock driving into her wet hot cunt. Her moans came first. "Oh my God!!! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me hard." It was a moan and a whisper. Then he came. His cock pounded furiously and deeply now. I could see his face above me, grimacing as if in pain, saliva dripping from his mouth, the sound of "Jesus, God, I'm cumming." Then a muffled, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, baby," and silence. Their bodies collapsed atop one another. My cock throughout this viewing was hard and wet and tingling. I heard their erratic snores and boldly moved my hand toward their union of cock and cunt and felt the wetness of their lovemaking. I grasped at it, feeling my father's limp cock still penetrating my mother's cunt. Skimming their love juices, I applied it to my cock and balls. I began the slow up and down movement and within seconds, my hot cock spurt its juices high into the air, soaking my belly, my chest and my face. I tasted my cum. I moved my hand once more toward my father's and mother's love juices and tasted even more. That's all I remember. I slept the rest of the night and woke the next morning to the voice of my mother calling, 'Jeff, come down for breakfast.'"
Charlie and Jim, in one voice, cried out laughingly, "Jesus, Jeff, that's hot. You'll have both of us coming in our pants any minute! But go on! Go on!"
Taking mental note of the bulges in Charlie and Jim's crotches, Jeff continued. "I began to notice other things in my parent's behavior. My father, in particular, expressed sensuality. At least, that is what it seemed to me. I was in grade school at the time, perhaps 10 or 11 years of age. One day, for whatever reason, I stayed home from school. My father, too, hadn't gone to work and my mother was away. It seems she went to the store or shopping. I remember being occupied with some things in my room. Suddenly, I was aware of a quiet in the house, a quiet that was strange. I left my room, came down the steps to the kitchen and sensed that my father wasn't anywhere to be found. I came to the pantry and noticed the door to the family room closed. That seemed unusual and I gave it no thought and opened it. There, before me, sat my 62-year-old father naked, sitting in a chair facing the door, legs outstretched, muscles taut in his legs, masturbating. His strong body, the graying hair between his nipples, the gray on his head, and his 6 or 7-inch cock burned itself into my memory. I remember a smile from him; I remember my own arousal; I remember closing the door and returning to my bedroom. I was so excited by this image of my father masturbating that I lay on the bed and, without touching my cock, only envisioning the scene, shot a load into my pants. I remember taking my clothes off, cleaning off and rerunning my recollection of the scene, this time with my cock in hand. I must have come 8 times that morning. 
Another time, summer, I played and worked in the yard. We had a Victory Garden at the time and my job was to keep the weeds from growing. My Dad was in the yard, too, weaving some baskets. He had on some shorts but, otherwise, was barefooted and bare-chested. My mother was somewhere in the house attending to things of the house. At one point, I caught a glimpse of my father going into the old chicken house that had been turned into a shed. It wasn't more than 20 feet from me. He closed the door. I thought that was odd. Inquisitive, I walked over and opened the door. There sat my father with his shorts down to his ankles, legs outstretched once again, his 6 to 7 inch cock hard, his right hand moving rhythmically up and down his hard cock, his left hand, rubbing his belly and balls. Once again, I closed the door and returned to the yard and the work at hand. I stayed but moments and went to my room and masturbated for the rest of the afternoon. I remember only that my cock was red and sore afterwards. But the intensity of the image remained for the rest of the day and remaining days and years of my life. I fell in love with his cock and body."
Charlie and Jim's cocks, by this time, cried for relief. Jeff paused in his story telling, knelt before them and sucked them hard until they shot deep into his throat. 
"Oh! God! Jeff, that was good! What a story!" exclaimed old Charlie. 
"Don't stop now, Jeff. Let's hear some more," added Jim.
Jeff continued. "Once, when I was about 14, I came home around 11:30 P.M. I used the back door, entered the pantry and put on the light in the kitchen. Just off the kitchen was a family room with a sofa. The kitchen light illuminated the room slightly and I noticed that my father was asleep on the sofa. I moved closer and, since it was summer, he slept only with his boxer shorts. My mother was asleep upstairs. A closer look revealed his boxer shorts opened and his flaccid cock in full view. I was fascinated. I devoured that scene of almost total nudity, his gray hair on his head, chest and pubic area. I crept closer and knelt beside him. I drew closer still savoring the manly smells of his body, his crotch, his legs, his feet. Since his snoring was continuous, I assumed he was asleep. I reached out and gently touched his cock and getting no response, I took it in my hand. Flaccid as it was, it felt warm to the touch. His cock twitched a little at my touch, but there was still no movement from my father. So I got still more brazen, wondering what it would feel like if I could put his cock in my mouth. I bent over him and let my tongue slide across the glans. The odor of clean sweat teased my senses. I remember assuming that he jerked off and fell asleep. Emboldened, I took his entire cockhead into my mouth and gently sucked. With that, he woke. I darted up the stairs to my room and stayed quiet for about a half an hour. Then, on the pretext of using the downstairs bathroom, I descended the stairs, went to the bathroom, looked in on my father to note that he had closed his boxer shorts and, I assume, pretended sleep. Nothing was ever said about this episode.
About 6 months later, another situation aroused my curiosity with my father's body even more. I remember it well. I came home from school at 3:00 and, as most kids at this age, I moved quickly to the icebox for a bite to eat. My mother stood menacingly between the pantry and the kitchen, which led to the front room. It was an unusual pose, one that I sensed was filled with tension. Her comment was, "Don't go into the front room!" It wasn't a comment; it was an order. But as kids are quick and nimble, I was by her in a moment and into the front room. There on a sofa lay my father and my first cousin, another 60 year old who had just lost his wife, passed out. It was obvious that they had been drinking. Their heads rested on the wall, their legs outstretched and their pants open with their cocks lying softly on their inner thighs. Their naked postures mesmerized me. The gray hairs surrounding my father's cock and balls as well as the gray surrounding my cousins excited me. I remember, in particular, my cousin's enormous cock. Flaccid, it looked to be at least 8 inches long. I heard my mother moan. I realized that I had moved too quickly and that it was an embarrassment for her. I don't remember any repercussions from this and, it seems, all was forgotten. But what remained for me was the ever-present infatuation with my father, his body and his cock. In this latter case, I wondered at what had transpired between the two, my father and my cousin. I wondered what role my mother played in it since she had to be aware of what had occurred. My imagination ran wild from this point on. These scenes would become the raw material for all my future fantasies of sex, which, to this day, I cherish." 
"I was in my teens, about 12 or so," Charlie interjected. "My mother was away and I was home alone with my father. I had been paging through a magazine that, while not pornographic by today's standards, was suggestive. My father sat in the chair next to mine and said, 'Son, have you learned how to masturbate yet? I'm going to show you how.'" With that, he took out his cock, a full seven inches when hard, and began to stroke it up and down. 'Take yours out and do the same.' We both began to stroke, faster and faster, and the excitement of it all had me shoot first. I let it spurt all over my stomach and chest and greeted the cum with loud and uncontrollable groans. My father shot next. His load shot straight up into the air, landing on his cock and balls and thigh. We never did it again together, but the impression it made on me lasts to this day. I never cum but that I don't think of the hot load spurting from his hard 7 inch cock."
Jim broke in with his story of fascination for an old man next door. "There was a neighbor, an old man, who would sit in his backyard in the summer with his shirt off, either sunning or in the shade. I used to sit in my bedroom window, naked, and lust after his body. He was thin, but well built, except for a slight protrusion of his stomach. His hair was gray and his back and chest matted with the same gray hair which ran into his shorts and down his legs to feet that were wide but well formed. A twinkle in his eyes drew attention to the deep blue of his eyes and a thin nose that suggested nobility. I'm sure he caught me watching and, often, he'd stroke his crotch until his hardness showed as a huge bulge in his pants. He would go further once he was sure I was watching. He'd sit in shorts, massage his crotch until his cock pressed hard and I could see the head of his hard cock slide out from the side of his shorts. I could tell when he got real hot. He'd stand, face my window, the huge bulge in his pants throbbing, and walk slowly to the shed in the back yard. It took me a while to guess at what he was up to, but, one day, he nodded toward the shed and I took that to signify following him. I tore down the stairs from my room, raced through our yard toward an opening in the hedge that led into his yard and the shed. I peered through the smoky glass of the shed and could see him lying naked on an old sofa, hard cock in hand, throbbing and glistening with the wetness of his precum. I entered, stripped, and walked toward him. He motioned for me to kneel over his head and stick my hard cock into his mouth and suck his throbbing 8 inch cock. That first time was quick and passionate. No sooner did my mouth envelop his hard cock, he spurted an enormous load into it, moaning uncontrollably, his hips gyrating and thrusting deep into my throat. I came, too. My cum came in quick spurts, hitting the back of his throat and filling his mouth with my hot jism, some of it running down the side of his chin onto his chest. He scooped it into his hand and massaged my ass as it moved rhythmically in and out of his warm and accepting mouth. His passion had only begun. He raised up, lay me on my back, and adding spit to the cum, rammed his hard cock into my passion filled asshole and pumped hard, sweat running down his forehead onto my chest. A few more passionate pumps and he shot again, this time crying aloud, 'Take it Jimmie. It's all yours. Taaakkkkee it! Taaakkkkeee it!' Afterwards, he lay on his back, sweating profusely, breathing hard. I lay with him, my mouth on his hot and throbbing cock, sucking the remaining drops of his passion. We fell asleep this way until I heard my mother call, 'Jimmie! Jimmie! Where are you? Come on home. It's time for dinner.' That first encounter was just the beginning of a deep and wonderful friendship that lasted fifteen years until his death. Today, when I masturbate, I think of that first encounter over and over. It always puts me over the edge for a real hot orgasm."
For Jeff, Charlie and Jim, the night had just begun. After another passionate orgy, they slept together until the next morning.
Author: Jim Stanley is now 70 years old, a retired senior who enjoys sex tremendously. Fantasy, he feels, is essential to this mix and his stories reflect this. Jim says to all those Wankers out there, go for it. Fantasize and enjoy!!! He would enjoy your reaction to his stories. 
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