Send-off

Chris knelt beside the bed, where he found his wifer already curled snugly on her side, wearing the oversized men’s tee shirt she favored for chilly evenings.  She’d been lying there reading alone for almost a half-hour, trying to unwind after a hectic day of packing for a short trip out of state, while he had needed to finish a mountain of paperwork before retiring.  She was leaving in the morning, alone–unless you count the six younger children who were driving with her.  Angela received his tender kiss, then instinctively hesitated as he kissed her deeply, probing with his tongue.  I’m way too tired for this, she thought.

“Remember, sweetheart, you said I could give you a send-off tonight.”

“Yes, Chris,” she smiled, “I did say that.  And you give such good send-offs, too.  Come to bed.”  And she moved to make room for her man, then settled sleepily into her perfect spot against his chest, his arm curled around her back, stroking her flanks delicately.  She draped her leg over his thighs, and sighed contentedly at the feel of his solid erection.  Immediately her thoughts returned to that very morning, to their intense love session in the dawn hour before the kids were awake, to the three jolting orgasms he had given her–or was it four?  She still felt the pleasant dull ache deep in her womb from his penis and adroit fingers, recalled what must been a gallon of sperm overflowing her vagina as he’d shuddered in climax earlier that day.  And here he was, forty-four years old, ready for more loving.

After cuddling and chatting for a while, re-connecting their minds and souls after a busy day of separate tasks, they closed their eyes and bowed their hearts in prayer.  As usual, Chris prayed first, thanking the Father for his many blessings, and asking for a safe journey for his dear family.  After Angela’s final whispered Amen, she eased her hand down to his crotch, a warm bead of fluid on his glans indicating that his penis had grown small and soft during the prayer.

“Angela, would you please suck me while”.  Nothing could get Chris rock-hard again like a minute or two of fellatio, so that he was then able to get right to the business of intercourse.  After a second’s hesitation she murmured her assent, but instead of curling down on her side to reach his groin with her mouth as she usually did, she knelt upright at his side, positioned his leg over her lap and made herself comfortable.  She was prepared to stay in this position for a very long time.

“All right, buster,” she thought, “I’m gonna give you a send-off you’ll never forget” and promptly went her work on his penis and scrotum with her lips, tongue, teeth, and fingers.  The whole package fit easily into her mouth at first, allowing her to chew and munch on his manhood, but this didn’t last long.  Soon she had to switch to the head licking and shaft sucking that he loved so much, his now-erect phallus far too huge to fit in her mouth.  “Or is it?” Angela wondered, gradually taking the entire lovely thing deep to the back of her throat and sucking greedily.

Chris gasped in surprise.  This was sure different!  Now was the time his dear wife normally would have released her mouth to draw him into her waiting vagina.  But she was deep-throating him instead!  He’d heard about this activity, but never really experienced it.  It didn’t take long for him to relax and enjoy the sensation of Angela’s sweet loving mouth bobbing in a gentle rhythm, of his glans grazing her velvety throat, of her hands stroking his wet shaft as it re-appeared at the end of each stroke.  His balls contracted and he felt the familiar climactic tingle emanating from his groin.

Angela also noticed the change in her man’s body and immediately pulled her mouth away, squeezing his shaft, blowing on the wet head, feeling his pent-up tension ebb slightly.  She was completely awake now, every nerve ending tingling, and though she was still aware of the satisfied afterglow of this morning’s multiple climaxes, she curiously did not feel any new yearnings or wetness in her vulva in this passionate moment.  “So much the better so I can concentrate fully on my husband’s pleasure”, she smiled to herself, then took him back into her gentle mouth, and tasted another drop of his pre love cream.  He was ready for more.

As she bit harder, squeezed his balls tighter, and sucked deeper, Angela could barely hear a tortured pinched squeel from Chris that may have been, “Honey that feels so good”.  She also noticed that his hands, which had at first been wandering over her breasts and vulva, had now become still as if paralyzed.  “Good, I’ve made him helpless.  But I’m not done yet…”  Her tongue traced circles around his engorged purple glans, fingernails raked along the underside of his shaft, fingers of the other hand rubbed his prostate through the tender skin behind his scrotum.  Then without warning she deep-throated him again, fisted his shaft, and scratched his buttocks with her nails, all at the same time.

The response was immediate.  She felt his perineum tighten spasmodically, felt his balls squeeze upward, felt the twitching of his rod against her tongue.  And once again she removed her mouth and fingers, save for a tight finger-ring around the base of his shaft.  She pretended to be oblivious to her husband’s moans, ignored the bucking of his pelvis as he tried to put himself back into her beautiful mouth, waited patiently for the involuntary movements to subside.

When she was satisfied that he no longer was about to ejaculate, Angela released her fist and licked off the drop of salty fluid that had once again formed on his urethra.  As she got back into the rhythm of her fellatio, this time shifting her shoulders and head to give his penis a new angle of entry, she noticed his breathing was shallow and rapid, and that his heart was pounding fast and loud.  She could hear the thumping through the otherwise still air of the bedroom.  It occurred to her that the last time his heart had beat this way was the night of their first kiss.  Even their wedding night had not produced such an intense involuntary response.

“I’m in total control”, she thought,” This quivering hunk of delicious manhood is completely at my mercy.”  As if to prove her own point she’d alter her tempo or touch a new place on his skin with a fingernail, and watched for his body to react, to dance to her tune.  With each upward thrust of his penis into her lips she withdrew just far enough away to keep only the head in her mouth.  Meanwhile her hands continued their delicate work, once in awhile pumping the shaft with vigor, always keeping him off-balance.  She’d never done anything like this before, torturing her man to near death, and found that she really liked it.

“This is fun!  I bet I can bring Chris down from the brink one more time before he goes over.”  She took his throbbing aching member again deep into her throat, ever so slowly, luxuriating in the feel of each ridge and vein sliding over her tongue.  Angela’s head bobbed lazily in time with her hands, noisily slurping as she worked on him, inhaling the delicious scent of his manhood, hearing his heartbeat thudding like a bass drum, tasting the fluid on the tip of his glans, feeling his shaft swell and his balls contract. “Whoops, no coming back from the edge this time, my dear husband is ready to blow!”

Chris felt his orgasm spreading from a core he’d never before known existed, from somewhere deep near his prostate, emanating over every square inch of skin, zipping down every nerve ending.  The indescribably sweet sensation of his penis in her velvety wet mouth was replaced by the firm sliding of her hand up and down her shaft, now fast and furious as she pumped him just as quickly as she would have rubbed her own clitoris to reach climax.

Angela watched her lover’s body lurch uncontrollably under her touch, felt the fluid building up in his balls and shaft, and moved her face just enough to be out harm’s way.  Her fist continued its loving motions–no clamping down on his shaft this time–and she blew a gentle stream of onto his glans.

She couldn’t keep from gasping when the eruption finally occurred in a series of white jets shooting past her lips and into the hair of his chest.  Again and again and again.  He hadn’t come with such force since he was twenty-five, and he was still squirting!  The sounds of his guttural groans and rapid breathing filled her ears, to the background of the shuddering poundings from behind his sternum. And then, gradually, his ejaculations subsided and his spasms died away.

She smiled down at his helplessness, and moved her fingers away from the hypersensitive area of his head, which had ceased its convulsions and was now starting to shrink. “I think I could get to really like this”, she mused smugly.

Chris was aware of her palms gently swirling his own sperm over his chest, belly, and balls.  A tingle could be felt in every muscle of his body as each began to relax, in his skin as the sweat started to dry, in his penis as the semen pooled on the glans.  And it seemed to him that as much as he’d always loved his wife, somehow tonight’s act of oral love–with his wife devoting herself solely to his own pleasure–made him feel more loved than he had in ages.

What a great send-off this had been.  His last thought before losing consciousness was “Maybe Angela and the kids should leave town more often”.

And as if reading his mind, she lay down again in their perfect spot, against the man she had just laid low, thinking “Just wait till you see what I’m gonna do for a reunion!”

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