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Posted by: Age: 52 Posted on: 8 comments
9 likes 12 views Category: Masturbation Female-Male Tags: mutual masturbation, hand job, huge cock, married


A widowed wife finds herself doing something to a married man she had only ever done with her late husband. How would he respond?

I lost my husband just over two years ago after a happy marriage of thirty-four years. Yes, we were teenage sweethearts. I got pregnant and we had to get married if that happened back in those days. It was good though; we grew together and loved each other our whole time together. It was devastating to lose him but slowly and surely, I have been able to move on. After his death I was content to realize that intimacy with another man would probably never happen again. This wasn't at all disturbing to me as my need for sex had waned significantly with menopause. My husband and I would masturbate each other if we needed a release, and he would look after himself in that way if I wasn't up to it when he needed one. He taught me how to hand fuck him the way he liked it, slow and methodical, with lube! He liked the warming jelly. He said I had become good at it, which I must have as I could get him off pretty quickly on those occasions I just wanted to go to sleep. I sometimes regret that now, but that's all behind me.

Our kids, all grown up with families of their own, question me about loneliness now and then. I always tell them I'm fine, but there are those days when I miss a man’s company, and yes, I miss that special touch once in a while too. Even though I loved my husband’s fingers bringing me to orgasm it wasn't something I did to myself often at all. I think I've masturbated only once or twice since he passed. See, I can't even remember!



Then came the day our daughter and husband had a get-together with friends and she invited me along to “get me out of the house”. I agreed to go as I knew their friends well and we always had good times together. This time however, one of the other couples had a surprise guest, who was passing through town, drop in on them and they had little choice of either bail or bring him along.


Their guest, I’ll call him Jim, was a rather large man, tall, mid to late fifties I’m guessing, typical aging man's belly but not overly so. He had a nice smile and easy-going demeanor and he and I hit it off right away. But he was married. Initially this wasn’t any concern of mine as I had no intentions of there being any need for concern. But that all changed as the evening wore on.


We enjoyed a wonderful BBQ and then let the liquor and wine flow. I’m not much of a teetotaler so ended up fairly tipsy. My daughter says Jim and I flirted all night, but I don’t recall doing anything intentional in that regard. All I remember from the early part of the evening is that we got along well, laughing a lot, and sincerely enjoyed each other's company. Perhaps that’s what led me to do something I NEVER would have even thought of while married, especially to another married man! But I did!


As the evening wore down the couple who brought Jim over decided to leave. I guess Jim was having such a good time he decided to stay a little longer. When the time finally came to shut the party down, I went to bed where I always did, in a queen size bed located in the corner of the unfinished basement. There was another queen size bed in the opposite corner of their basement the kids sometimes used for sleepovers.


I woke up very early the next morning needing to pee. I was still fairly tipsy but had my wits about me, hence I can recall the details of my actions quite clearly. It was still dark so I needed my phone flashlight to navigate to the first floor for the washroom. No problem, did my business and headed back to my bed. As I rounded the corner of the basement stairs my light illuminated the other bed, and there, to my utter surprise, was Jim’s naked ass mooning me from under his covers. I hesitated briefly then went on to my bed. I was taken aback. Why was he here? Why was he naked? Surely we didn’t…? My hand went to my groin to check for evidence of sex while my mind raced trying to figure if we had actually got too drunk and I had done so with him. To my relief I was pretty dry, as usual, which then got me thinking about why I was.


I left my hand on my pussy for a change, and started to think about my husband masturbating me. To my surprise it got me a little wet, which got me thinking about me masturbating him. Then, for whatever reason, I thought about masturbating Jim! Then I became fixated. Jim was a large man, was his cock large too? I thought about how large it could be. Then I thought about how much cum he could have. My late husband usually had quite a bit, would Jim have more, or less? I continued these mental comparisons while slowly caressing my vulva. My heart was beating in my ears. My thoughts went to how I could do it. Could I get away with having hand sex with a married man? Would Jim want to? Would he finger me back? Gawd I was starting to need a man’s hand on me all-of-a-sudden. Then I remembered seeing Vaseline in my daughter’s bathroom cabinet and I said to myself, “FUCK IT! I’m going to give it a try.'"


I grabbed my phone and headed for the stairs. I shone the light towards the bed Jim was in, he hadn’t moved, still sound asleep. Making my way to the bathroom again, I scooped a good dollop of the jelly and headed back downstairs. When I got to Jim, I hesitated briefly, then the liquor and my wet pussy took me in. I closed the light on my phone and set it down, then laid down behind Jim.


My heart raced as I thought about what I was about to do. Its like another person had a hold of me as my jelly laden hand reached around Jim’s large frame to where his genitals would be resting. My hand landed on his ball sack, totally loose and hanging together over his upper thigh. I briefly caressed them, spreading a small amount of the grease on them for later. I moved my hand to find his cock, in utter anticipation for what would happen when he awoke. Would he protest? Would he freak? Would I be left to feel like a fool? My instincts for how men think guided me forward, knowing not many men had the fortitude to resist sex, especially if there was little chance of illicit sex being caught.


My hand found Jim’s flaccid penis, gravity pulling it toward the bed. It was large enough, even flaccid, for me to follow its length. I slowly caressed the lube from my hand onto the length of his cock. It was soft and ripply. Jim hadn’t even flinched. Was he asleep? My hand reached for his balls again, cupping them, I moved my thumb under his soft member, enabling me to take a grip of it. Jim moved his hips forward, startling me! I kept my hand still for a moment, then ever so slowly began sliding it up his cock. I still needed to spread some of the Vaseline on the underside. In doing so, the cock began to arouse. I lightly gripped it at its base, letting the sensation of the blood rushing in, filling it, force it into my hand. I loved that feeling! A swelling cock growing under my touch. Powerful! I felt it as it continued to grow, its length sliding through my hand, its girth tightening the space I was giving it inside my fist. Jim pushed his hips forward again, stretching himself and letting his cock fill effortlessly. He must have been awake now, I thought to myself. Undeterred, I stayed motionless, while just leaving my hand wrapped around him had him swelling toward full erection.


Having not moved my hand I had no idea how long the cock I was going to jack would actually be. If its girth was any indication I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was! I began slowly sliding my hand up Jim’s shaft, a quaint moan came from his lips, now I knew he was awake. He didn’t freak or protest, so this was definitely going to happen. I could feel it begin to throb under my grasp. Years of slowly jacking my husband taught me all the sensations a male penis responds to, and what those responses felt like in my hand. My hand seemed to slide forever along this fat shaft until I finally reached the glans. I knew this was a man’s most sensitive area, the frenulum. I stopped my hand there and just gently squeezed, not too hard, just enough to generate a throb. I reversed my hand back down to his balls, which were now swelling and tightening his ball sack in their own right. I slowly moved over them with a cupped palm, spreading the jelly around them. Back up to his cock, I brushed up its length with my open fingers, up over the glans where I was sure to find a drop of pre cum awaiting my touch, so spreading it around his glans generating another moan.


I palmed his glans and then gently gripped him just beneath, beginning the slide back down what was now a monstrous shaft. My fingers came no where near fully surrounding his cock, its girth like that off a coke can. I gripped his cock in such a way so as the thicker base of my fingers rode along the corpus bulge protruding down the front of the shaft. I found this to be a good method of adding slightly more pressure along this area, creating a sort of pumping action. Jim’s cock responded with repeated throbbing, oozing more pre cum a clear indicator he was beginning his journey to ecstasy. I began to put a little more focus on jacking him now, realizing our age sometimes meant prolonged stimulation could result in unsatisfying results. When you need to cum, you better cum!


My hand wrapped gently around all I could reach of this heavy cock, I began the repeated motions up and down, slowly, like my husband taught me, taking in the responding throbs and hip thrusting Jim offered. His breathing deepened, indicating he was getting closer. Occasionally I would over stroke onto his ball sack, which was now firm and full. I wondered when he last ejaculated, and how much sperm he had. I would find out soon enough. As my caressing strokes pushed Jim toward orgasm, I made sure he would get the full brunt of my expertise. I would continuously rub over his frenulum and glans with every stroke, each time eliciting a soft moan and push of his hips. I reveled in how distended his corpus ridge became, the tube within it a large pipeline for the seed it could carry.


As Jim’s breathing began to get guttural, his thrusting pushing my hand to quicken the pace, I knew it was time to let him get off. I learned that letting the sensual touch of flesh on flesh create the necessary friction for stimulation, rather than physical pumping action, would make for a higher level of ecstasy and thus better male orgasm. My hand slid faster, lighter, ensuring my touch was all that his cock could respond to. I could feel it swell even more, Jim moaned loudly, worrying me that others might hear, but they were two stories up. Then he turned toward me onto his back and thrust his hips upward. I kept my pace, making sure that when he started to cum I didn’t stop. I felt his cock swell again, and it was hard as rock, then it began, his corpus ridge began to pulse into my palm as Jim began erupting stream after stream of cum onto his torso. I maintained my stroking, adding slightly more pressure, feeling each pulse of ejaculate pump out of the massive member. He kept throbbing and pulsing, his hips thrusting forward and moaning, wholly shit did I ever make him cum. It crossed my mind that perhaps his wife was short changing him a bit. When he finally relaxed his hips, I realized his orgasm was subsiding. I slowed my pace but ensured I had jacked all the cum I could from him. Then I focused on his frenulum a bit longer, causing him to flinch and giggle. Once I felt his cock begin to subside, I moved my hand to his belly to see how much seed he had spread. WOW! He was covered from belly button to his neck, I could feel everywhere was coated with long lines of his thick cum. I spread it around with my hand, rubbing it onto the sides of his chest and back down around his groin, making sure none of it would drip off him when he got up to go clean it off.


Just as I was about to go back to my bed, Jim's hand made its way to my hip, pushing me gently onto my back, then softly tracking toward my pussy to return the favor.


But that’s another story.



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