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I’m seventy-one and my wife, Anya, is seventy-six. I love names and hers fit her so very well. It was Russian, originally “Aniya” and meant merciful. She was that for sure. She’d taken mercy on me and said yes when I’d asked her to marry me. I don’t believe in hating but I hated Alzheimer’s with a passion. I’d had to put her in a care facility six months before this happened. I was lost without her, just stumbling along bumping into things. We’d been together for over forty-three years and I didn’t want to continue alone. All that calmed me then was walking in Our park. There’s one about a half-mile from my house and I pretty much walked there every night rain or shine, relaxing among the trees and bushes. My favorite place then because it had been Ours. Anya and I’d walked there many times, every now and then going to Our Spot and having some really wild sex. She liked to blow me then lay flat on her stomach in the grass and let me screw her brains out from behind. It didn’t happen all the time and we varied it a lot but whatever it was we’d loved it. It was a lovely little glen. Ferns everywhere, moss in the trees and when the moon was full it was lit like an arena. Very private and quiet, all we could hear was the shushing sounds the wind made in the trees and bushes. We’d played a game sometimes. “You find me and I’ll do whatever you ask,” she’d say, and when I did, she would, whatever I asked. That was usually the only time she’d let me do anal because that wasn’t her favorite. When I did she seemed to really enjoy it though, and she’d always hid in the same spot too. The same when I’d hide for her. I was playing the game in my mind that night, sneaking around Our bush, being very quiet. I could smell her that night. My favorite perfume was Opium and it had always excited me. I’d been smelling it recently when I went there, just a hint. But she wasn’t there then and never would be again. I stood looking, with tears on my face remembering the last time. I did find her then and I did get her on her stomach and I fucked her from behind until she came very hard. She got loud sometimes and I’d had to put my hand over her mouth to keep anyone form hearing her. That excited her more and when she finished she’d turned her head and said, “Why don’t you put that bad boy in my ass. I know you want to and you haven’t cum yet.” I was still in her, just not moving, but when I heard that I exploded with the most Ankara escort intense orgasm I’d ever had. I live in that memory sometimes and will never forget It. The last time I had physical sex with her. When I die I hope I’m seeing that. We tried it once more but she was very confused by then and didn’t enjoy it. She was scared and worried about being caught and just couldn’t. After that I just never tried again. It took six months and almost destroyed me watching her just slowly die mentally. Scotch and pot became my new lovers, and I was deeply in love. When she didn’t remember me any more the kids and I found a place for her and I came close to ending it then. I felt like I’d already fallen off a cliff and ought to just finish the task. I visited her two, three times a week, but all I could feel was a huge void, a black hole that I just wanted to fall into so I didn’t have to remember what she’d been. Didn’t have to think any more. Anya was in there somewhere and I desperately wanted to join her. I told her that many times. My kids and grand kids kept me from actually ending it. They never left me alone. I’d finally pulled myself together enough that they’d let me move back home and I started doing the nightly walks trying to remember everything I could about her. That night while I was standing and looking I decided to lay down and re-live the last time. I pulled my shorts down about half way, lay back in the soft grass, closing my eyes and moaning softly as I took my cock in my right hand and started. This brought back many memories and in a minute I could almost feel her there. Her smell, her voice, soft, just a whisper and I was very aroused. As I kept it up I’d started to leak and that made it slicker, sexier. I could hear the wind in the bushes and pictured Anya creeping up on me, crouching over me and watching. I could feel her breath on my cock as she leaned in and could hear her breathing get shorter, more excited. I’d stroked harder, faster, squeezing my eyes tighter because I didn’t want the image to go away. I’d seen and felt it many times and I was living it again. She was there, breathing on me, fondling me. Then her hand shoved mine away, closing hard around my cock. Her mouth captured the head and my back arched, bringing my ass a foot off the ground. I felt my cock jam into her throat, her hand squeezing me until I’d thought it would break and she’d Ankara escort bayan swallowed very hard. She pumped her mouth up and down fast, grabbing at me with her throat and I’d erupted like a volcano, a super-volcano. I shot six or seven powerful streams down her throat while my hands were ripping grass out by the roots. I gasped, my eyes shot open and I was immediately slammed back into reality. It was not Anya! I was staring at an incredible brown breast. She knelt by my head, leaning over with my cock in her hand and mouth. Her breasts were pressed against my chest, big, hard nipples boring into me. I could smell her, Opium mixed with sex and I couldn’t quit coming. It felt like it went on forever. When I finally stopped she slowly pulled her mouth off, cleaning me with her tongue, then sat up with a smile. She looked young, maybe twenty five or thirty and she was quite beautiful. Her skin was dark but not black. I’d had some very strong fantasies about black women but had never been with one. I later discovered that it was a caramel color, her hair darker and both had reddish tones I liked. She was spectacular sitting there. Big breasts with darker freckles all over them, and very hard nipples. Her eyes sparkled with reflections from one of the pathway lights, a slight smile on her face. She sat there, my cock in her hand, slowly stroking me. I was still very hard and oozing, very slick, and she’d rub the head with her thumb as it came up over it. I laid there so stunned I couldn’t talk or think. I was absolutely speechless. We just sat, looking at each other for five or more minutes then she got a huge smile on her face. My first sound was a laugh. When she’d smiled the light highlighted her eyes and teeth. All I could think of was a Cheshire Cat and I wondered how I’d explain it if she asked. When she smiled wider and laughed I quit worrying about it. I started to sit up but she put her other hand on my chest and gently held me down. She finally said, “I heard you. I’ve seen you before, walking, crying, and wondered what caused such sadness. I can feel it in you now. Can you tell me what it is?” Then she’d started softly kneading and rubbing my chest and stomach, still stroking my cock with the other hand. I still wasn’t sure I could talk and she’d continued, “When you vanished I came looking and heard you moan. I whispered to see if you were OK, Escort Ankara but you just moaned again. When I sneaked through the bushes I brushed against one and thought you’d heard me as it rustled.” “When I saw what you were doing I was shocked but only for a second, then I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I’ve never seen a man do that. I’ve never been with a white man and I was mesmerized watching your cock almost glow in the dark, like a ghost, as you masturbated.” She continued with, “When I decided you hadn’t heard me I carefully took off my shorts and top then just knelt there and watched you. By that time it looked like you were ready to cum and I was very excited myself. I decided that I wanted to help you and make it as good as I could. Maybe get you out of some of what bothered you. Maybe help me too.” I said, “Thank you. I was living in a memory and didn’t hear you. I thought it was my mind being very vivid again,” smiling at her. She smiled back and just kept stroking and rubbing. “I need to get up,” I said. She removed her hands and stood to help me. I’d felt weak as a kitten and needed all the help I could get. I hadn’t had an orgasm like that since the last time with Anya, over a year before. Looking at her bent over, her breasts hanging close to my face, swaying as she’d moved was very enticing. When I was up she’d had to help me with my shorts too because my fingers didn’t want to work. She turned to get her clothes and I saw where she’d dropped them. Running shorts, a jog bra and a pull-over top. She’d still had her shoes on. When she was done we walked out on the path and just strolled and talked for an hour. I’d walked many miles with my wife like this under other beautiful moons. When we sat on a bench she took my hand into her lap and held it tight. I could feel the heat from her on the back of my hand and she’d seemed to be pressing it in. I didn’t know what to make of this. I was still trying to figure out how to apologize for what she’d seen, even knowing that she’d helped me with her hand and mouth. I don’t like taking advantage of anyone and that was how I’d felt. When we got up she’d pulled me to her left and we walked along holding hands. I tried to let go once but she’d just held mine until I finally clasped hers. When I did she smiled and walked a little closer to me. Then I told her about Anya. I learned about her too. Her name was Lindsey, she was thirty and a Wiccan, an African witch. This kind of startled me but I’d always been interested in that. She told me she could feel the spirits of people and she liked to walk in the park “hearing” the spirits talk to her. I’d never believed in that. She’d said it calmed her then she could sooth and calm the spirits some times.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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