Coastal Secrets, Sensual Embrace

The Pacific Northwest air hung thick and damp, clinging to the weathered wood of our cottage as we returned from a long walk along the beach. The salty tang of the ocean mingled with the scent of pine from the surrounding forest, creating a heady, familiar aroma. Inside, a light dinner of grilled salmon and white wine awaited, and as we settled into our favorite armchairs, a comfortable silence filled the room. My wife, Anne, a woman who had become a captivating tapestry of age and experience, shifted slightly, her movements graceful despite her seventy-seven years. She wore a loose silk top, its surplice neckline exposing a hint of her delicately curved breasts, and a flowing skirt that grazed her knees. The dark hose she wore added an air of understated elegance, emphasizing the slimness of her legs.

As she settled into her chair, her eyes met mine, a knowing glint within their depths. “You want me to gently pull you into my breast so you can suckle me,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. It was a familiar request, born from decades of passionate intimacy, and my response was immediate and primal. The heat rushed through my veins as my old, experienced cock hardened, the pre-cum already beginning to seep into my briefs. The tension between us was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the intense desire simmering beneath the surface.

Anne's subtle movements indicated the discomfort she felt due to the layers of pantyhose and panties, which restricted her clit. Her beautiful pussy was undeniably wet, a testament to our recent encounter. We continued our meal in a shared understanding, the anticipation building with each passing moment, knowing that the playful teasing we had engaged in earlier would soon culminate in a night of uninhibited pleasure. It was clear we both hungrily anticipated the planned jack-off and jilling appetizer before our main course.

Anne’s age hadn't diminished her vitality, nor her ability to generate "CSI evidence" on our bedsheets. She had undergone an oophorectomy twenty years ago, but she still delivered a generous supply of fluid when we engaged in intimate moments. As I expertly thrust my three fingers deep into her fornix, stimulating her g-spot, she let out a series of ecstatic moans. My left hand, deftly maneuvering beneath her firm butt cheek as she lifted it for me, massaged her ass before slowly inserting my left-hand middle finger into her anal canal. The combination of these techniques brought her orgasmic ramp up to an uncontrollable outburst of verbal ecstasy. She grabbed my right hand, jamming it hard against her writhing pussy while frantically rubbing her swollen clit and clenching her cunt. Encouraging her, I urged, "Keep cumming, baby! I can feel you cumming all over my fingers! Push it out!"

The more insistent I was, the more fluid she spewed, coating my fingers inside her warm, swollen pussy. She pressed her hot juices onto her graying, swollen pussy lips, causing them to moisten the bed deliciously. We lay exhausted for about two minutes, my fingers continuing to gently massage the inside of her cunt while my left middle finger remained embedded up to the second knuckle, slowly moving in her ass.

We enjoyed basic missionary sex, a favorite pastime of ours. However, 90% of our encounters involved “She Comes First,” and my devotion to pleasing her by filling up her cunt and ass while suckling hard on her tit gave her maximum stimulation and pleasure. It’s a testament to our long-standing love and commitment, and a ritual we both cherish.

After paying the check for dinner, we stepped out of the restaurant and took each other's hands. Anne’s hand was moist and warm, just like her horny pussy, and my cock immediately began to pulse as we made our way back to the cottage. We acted casually about our state of mind when we arrived back after a half-mile moonlit walk, both of us knowing better! The thought of our upcoming encounter had already begun to consume my every thought. I had been fantasizing about her sweet milk filling my mouth and warming my throat as it did forty years ago when she enjoyed breastfeeding me to relieve her swollen tits after she decided to stop nursing each of our children. Just that thought as we closed the door to the cottage made me want to tell her, “Lover, I can’t wait any longer. It feels like I took a Viagra pill, and I’m ready to cream if you or I even touch my cock!” Instead, I nonchalantly said, “Let’s head upstairs.”

Anne’s beauty continues to astound me, even after all these years. I love every sensual curve of her body, and her light, blondish-gray, thinning pussy hair glistened with droplets of her dinnertime mental masturbation. As she enjoyed her daily, warm, almond-scented bath in our master suite’s vintage tub, I spread out a towel on our Victorian queen bed. Both of us were horny, and I made certain Anne saw my half-mast engorged cock as I bent down to kiss her neck. I admired her perky tits with their slightly stiffened nipples as she soaked in the warm, sweet-smelling bathwater. Perfect!

I took a quick warm shower, lathering up with a natural sponge but careful not to stroke my cock too much. Then I climbed into bed, pulled out my Kindle to calm my racing mind, and played with my cock ever so gently, keeping it hard. Occasionally, I wiped the pre-cum off the tip of my glans and licked my fingertips. Pre-cum is almost tasteless, but it ramps me up as much as dipping my fingers into Anne’s hot, wet pussy and sucking them dry. Her pussy juice after her bath has a sweet, musky taste that hardens my old cock instantly. Anne will join me sometimes by fingering her pussy and tasting her warm juice or let me lick her fingers. Hmm! Stop the visualization!

It seemed like an eternity before I heard the tub emptying. Anne always seems to tantalize me by taking her time to towel off, finish shaving, and lotion up after her bath. Undoubtedly, she dangled her pussy for me to see, as it was always wet when I first touched her in bed.

As we lay intertwined, lost in the throes of our desires, I realized that tonight would be a delightful surprise. Anne came to bed with my favorite black chemise with a plunging surplice neckline. After we open-mouth kissed, our tongues probing and lightly brushing each other, we pulled apart and began to mutually masturbate. Usually, we masturbate until one of us starts to moan. That’s my signal to turn my attention to Anne’s breasts. She loves at least five minutes of dry nursing, and I opt for at least ten minutes. We rarely get to ten minutes because she continues to skillfully play with and rub her clit with her dominant right hand. She also holds and squeezes her left tit while pinching and twisting her nipple, moaning and groaning with delightful mild pain. Then she reaches her left hand down and under her butt to play with her asshole.

Like I said, tonight’s routine changed. Anne must have read my mind when we first arrived at the cottage. Between knowing her Old Lover’s mind and my moans and groans as I’m playing with my balls and hard-as-a-rock cock, she knew that I needed to cum first, tonight. She surprised me as she rolled to her right side, took hold of my cock, and began to slide her oiled hand up and down my shaft expertly. I pled with her to massage my taint area between the base of my sack to my asshole. Her fingers massaged me gently, and then she began a deep massage my prostate until I cried out, “I’m going to cum all over!”

Anne loves it when I jack off and squirt my cum all over her wet, satisfied pussy when she cums first, but I knew that, if I came laying flat on my back with her angled over my left side, my cum wad would spray all over both of us. Anne knew I would cum with just a bit more pressure on my prostate, but instead, she grabbed my throbbing cock and began to stroke it harder and faster. I blurted out, my voice rising with every syllable, “Fuuuck . . . I’m going to cum all over us.” With one more stroke, I spurted cum all over my face and Anne’s. She just kept stroking me, and after three more powerful bursts of hot cum shooting on my chest, her breasts, her stomach, and more on our faces. I took deep breaths in total exhaustion as we laughed, delighting in our cum-drenched faces, bodies, and Anne’s tits.

Then Anne whispered in my ear, “Now it’s my turn – I need some stuff!” The words hung in the air, a silent invitation that sent shivers down my spine. As I waited for her response, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation, knowing that our night of pleasure was far from over.

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