Wedding Day No. 03

I grabbed the two pillows from the other side of the bed, added them to the two on her side, and made her a nice cushioned backrest.

"Lay back," I said, "and," and here I put on my breathiest Natalie Wood voice from Gypsy and finished, "Let me entertain you."

I turned on the bedstand radio, you know, the little brown one found in every hotel room in the world, and ran through the stations until I found something soft.

Then I stood at the foot of the bed and did a slow striptease for her.

Way back when dinosaurs ruled the earth and I was married to my first wife she had liked role reversal games and I had gone to a few "strippercise" classes at the local gym to learn to entertain her. I used those skills now. I was, oh, let's just say around a half-century older now and not nearly as flexible, but I thought I did a passable job.

With my shirt lying across her where I had tossed it I almost fell doing that awkward two-step to get out of my shoes and socks making us both giggle. I got my belt undone and pulled it free with an audible snap, waved it around my head, and then put it around my neck like it was sort of a leather tie or, well, a collar, something else I had learned from that long-ago first wife.

When I undid the snap and unzipped my pants she whistled and said, "That's right, Baby, take it off."

I liked that she was getting into it.

I dropped my pants and they fell down my own skinny legs. I turned to give her a profile of my pot belly, my pregnancy as I always joked. Then I turned and slowly pushed my boxers down until, past the roundness of my ass they could fall to join the slacks.

I turned to give her a profile of my pot belly and the erection under it, demonstrating my interest before striking a pinup pose, my back arched, my left foot up, my left knee bent, my left arm resting on my belly and my left arm straight up.

She whistled again and then pointed at me before crooking her finger in the universal "Come here" gesture.

I crawled up onto the bed, kissing my way up the insides of her calves, knees, and thighs until I got to those full lips between her legs, the only part of her that seemed to have retained any fat cells.

This time the kiss wasn't just touching and exploring. This time it was a prelude. And I kissed her pussy very thoroughly. When I gently parted those full lips I saw that her inner lips, the labia minora, were very red and when I used my thumbs to lift her clitoral hood her bud of pleasure was a tiny pink bump.

When I touched it with my tongue, making a small circle, feeling it move under the pressure, she cried out, "Oh Jesusssssssss" again, and suddenly I wasn't concerned about K-Y Jelly or Vaseline anymore. Her womanscent was suddenly thick in the air and my cock got even harder in response.

I leaned back and looked. She was still very red but now shiny with her natural lubricants.

I had a thought and crawled up the bed, my finger remaining on her clitoris, lightly touching it.

"Have you ever been masturbated by someone else?" I asked her in my best breathy, seductive voice.

"Oh God no," she said, her eyes getting big.

"Lay back," I said, kissing her, "and enjoy."

I leaned back from her, propped my chin on my hand to watch her face, and began making little circles on that little button between her legs.

I masturbated her slowly, watching her face as I changed the pressures and rhythms. Her eyes would close when I was making slow circles, enjoying the slickness I found between her legs and drawing my finger up the slit of her labia to lubricate what I was doing. When I changed the pressure and rhythm, suddenly moving fast, a quick up and down pressure, her eyes flew open wide enough you could see white around the irises.

When her hips started rocking, meeting my hand, I slowed and pulled away, whispering, "Relax, Billi, let me do the work now."

When she came it was spectacular. I had been bringing her along, slowly, enjoying the way her body reacted. She was panting when the orgasm took her. She grabbed one of the pillows and pulled it over her face and I could hear her muffled scream as my finger kept at her and I could feel the sudden gush of her release. She did a partial sit-up in her ecstasy and I quickly supported her back while she screamed again.

She flopped back onto the pile of pillows and just gasped, "Oh God, oh God, ohgodohgodohgod," while I slowed my movement, allowing her to come down from her cumhigh.

Her eyes flew open and she wrapped her arms around me. The kiss was wet with tears and snot and drool. It was a very good kiss. Her skinny arms wrapped around my neck and pulled me hard, almost painfully, and her legs were scissoring.

She broke the kiss, met my eyes, smiled, and said, "Fuck me, Phillip."

I chuckled and kissed her, a quick kiss, and said, "Wouldn't you like to sample my mouth first?"

"FUCK ME, Phillip," she said, pulling on me.

But I had the leverage.

"You're sure that's what you want?" I asked, kissing her again.

"GODDAM IT, PHILLIP, FUCK ME," she said, loud enough that I wondered if the folks in the next room might hear.

"Say please," I said.

I could see her get into it now.

"Please, please, Phillip, please, fuck me. Please, Baby, put that beautiful cock into me. Please, Honey, put it in, make me feel like a woman again. Please," she was going on like that, kind of reveling in her surrender as I rolled around, guided myself, and slipped in where she was wet and hot and slick and amazingly tight.

"Yessssssssssssssssssssssss," she hissed as she took my full length into her.

We made love then, for some timeless period. I was in no hurry and she had been through the first wave of ecstasy. So we made love, our bodies joined, our lips kissing, our fingers touching.

"I've never felt anything like that," she said softly between kisses.

"I apologize on behalf of all stupid men," I said, kissing her forehead, eyelids, and cheeks.

"I never imagined," she said.

"Men can be stupid," I said.

An orgasm took her, not as hard or spectacular as that first one, but I felt the sudden tension in her body and supported her head as she tried to do another sit-up but couldn't against my weight.

"Oh Jesus," she whispered.

I kissed her again.

We were both tiring, sweaty, and a little breathless when she said, "Fill me up, Phillip, please."

"I don't want this to end," I whispered back.

"I don't either," she said, "but I'm wearing out."

So I increased my rhythm, still being careful of fragile bones and arthritic joints, and came in her. The ejaculation was good, my body answering evolution's demand to send my DNA deep, and her cry of "Yesssss," was gratifying.

"Thank you, Baby," she whispered, "I always loved the sensation of leaking afterward and it's been a LONG time."

"You're quite welcome," I said.

I'm not sure which one of us was snoring first.

I woke at some point in the night as she crawled back into bed. I yawned and stretched and stopped when I realized what she was doing. She was kissing her way down my body.

"You don't have to do that," I said, sleepily, mirroring what she had said earlier, and surprised to realize that I was getting hard.

"But I want to," she said, a giggle in her voice, as she took me into her mouth.

"This is a first for me," she said, pulling off and then taking me back.

I reached for her and pulled gently, not forcing but encouraging, and she accepted what I was doing.

In a few minutes, we were in the classic "69" position with her on top. Her pussy was leaking a little, I am blessed with a very active prostate gland and when I cum I cum a lot, and my scent and taste were familiar. Her taste and scent, though, were a heady new mixture.

Our mutual oral sex lasted. She had no technique. Mostly, she was masturbating me with her lips, her tongue wasn't involved. But it WAS my second time in a few hours and I was surprised to get hard, let alone find that I had an urge to finish.

My technique, I say buffing my fingernails on an imaginary vest, was much better, and soon I had her flowing freely. Her taste was very salty and the product of the mucus membranes that lined her vagina was thick and sticky. I had awakened her Bartholin's and Skene's Glands, as well, and they added a level of spice and a delightful aftertaste of bitterness as I licked and sucked and brought her along.

She came, a sudden rush of that thick, sticky nectar, and I drank greedily.

But I wasn't close yet, and so I kept at her. Her next orgasm was stronger, and the taste was different as those deeper glands slowed their production but those mucus membranes stayed active. It was thick and salty and very sticky.

I was getting close and we were both tiring.

The final of the night was mutual. I came and she coughed and came, this time I tasted acrid salty urine mixed in with her release and smiled, happy that I had finally defeated her control completely.

I was barely awake to answer when she crawled around so we were face to face again.

"Will you still kiss an old cocksucker?" she asked.

"Of course," I said, and did.

The rest of my sleep was deep and dreamless.

I'm a very early riser, the curse that struck with my Medicare card, so I woke at 5:58 according to the clock on the bedside cabinet. That was actually sleeping in for me.

She was snoring softly, sleeping flat on her back, her head turned to the side facing me.

I realized that part of her late-night visit to the bathroom had been to remove her dentures and her face had that sunken-lipped look of the toothless. Her nose had been running and there was a crust on her upper lip and down her cheek. She had been drooling and there was a thin wet line from the corner of her mouth to a puddle on the pillowcase. I thought she looked wonderfully feminine and I very gently pulled the sheet away, wanting to look at her while she slept.

The erection surprised me, but I certainly wasn't going to complain.

Moving very carefully, not wanting to wake her, I moved around until my knees were between hers. I could see that she was still leaking a little, thick white semen running down the crack of her skinny ass, and that sealed the deal.

I reached down to guide myself as I scooted forward, moving slowly and carefully, the, okay, the kinkiness to use that old word, of what I was doing getting to me.

When she started to stir I caught her wrists in my hands and moved them to pin them beside her head.

That movement woke her and as her eyes fluttered open I pushed forward, into her.

Her eyes got big but then she smiled.

"Well, good morning," she said and giggled like a schoolgirl.

She coughed, suddenly, spattering onto my face and her eyes got big.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," she said.

I answered with a kiss. Her lips were crusty and salty. It was a good kiss.

"Thank you, Phillip," she said, oddly conversational as our rhythms matched.

"For what?" I asked.

"For reminding an old woman that she's not just old, but also a woman," she said.

"And a beautiful, sexy woman at that," I said, kissing her.

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter," she said, kissing me back, "I clean up okay but I'm not in the same ballpark as beautiful."

"You are right now," I said, kissing her, licking the crust on her upper lips and the line of drool on her chin, "You are drop-dead gorgeous."

She came with a grunt and a sudden squeezing, and I followed about ten seconds later.

As we relaxed, touching and kissing and sighing, I said, "Relax now, I'm going to run to the store and get what I need to give you a pedicure like you've never had before."

She looked at me, speculatively, doing that one-eyebrow-raised thing that I am genetically incapable of pulling off, and then laid back, sighed, and said, "Okay."

I kissed her quickly and said, "Do what you need to do in the bathroom but don't you dare wash your face. You're sexy the morning after."

Her eyes got big, but she didn't say, "No."

I threw on yesterday's slacks and shirt, not bothering with underwear or a hairbrush, kissed her, and went shopping. At the Wal Mart, I found a big plastic flat-bottomed mixing bowl, Epsom Salt, a callus tool, one of those things that look like a tiny cheese grater, a nail file, and scarlet nail polish.

Back in the room, I saw that she hadn't washed her face but she had put in her teeth.

I ran the water until it got as hot as it was going to and then added a healthy pile of Epsom Salt to the bottom of the big mixing bowl and filled it about half full.

I helped her out of bed and then sat her on the only chair in the room, placed the mixing bowl before her, and put her feet in the hot water. She hissed softly, the water WAS hot, and then visibly relaxed.

I stood before her, brushed her hair back off of her face, and said, "Open your mouth, Billi."

"Phillip," she started but I kissed her to shut her up."

"Open your mouth, Billi," I said again.

She held my eyes for several seconds and then, almost defiantly, her eyes flashing a little I thought, opened her mouth.

She held her breath while I tugged at her upper plate and then the lower, taking her teeth out. I didn't say anything as I took them into the bathroom and dropped them into a glass of water.

"You do know," she said, her words slightly distorted in the way of the toothless, "that you are the first person to see me without them."

I kissed her then, my tongue probing deliberately, feeling her gums.

I broke the kiss and then recited a poem remembered from childhood -

At last, I've found the perfect girl.

I could not ask for more.

She's deaf and dumb and has no teeth.

And owns a liquor store.

She giggled and said, "You are pretty fucking weird, Phillip, You know that?"

I laughed and got to my knees, laid a thick towel on my lap, and started on her feet. I gently abraded the calluses and bunions and corns away. The nails were thick and horny and it took time to shape them, but I had plenty of time. Before I was done her feet looked damn good.

We showered together, laughing a lot as we washed each other.

We shared a breakfast a the local "Home Cooking" place and then headed for the wedding. She was whisked away for clothes and makeup so I made myself useful adjusting chairs, setting up tables, and generally providing manual labor. At noon I went back to my hotel room for a quick shower and showed up a half hour before the ceremony.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, my son and his beautiful bride became man and wife, and we ate well and drank a little. I saw Billi occasionally but she was pretty much surrounded by family and well-wishers.

At about 8:00, I didn't really look at my watch but it felt that way, I felt a tap on my shoulder and Billi was there.

"Thank you, Phillip," she said again, her hand light on my arm.

"Wait until later," I said, flashing my best wolfish grin.

"I'm sorry," she said, and I thought I saw real regret in her eyes, "but my ride is ready to go. But thank you."

She kissed me quickly, a grandmotherly peck on the cheek, and was whisked away by one of my new daughter-in-law's cousins, a matronly woman whose name I never did catch.

I slept alone that night.