Memory - Sex Stories

Memory

... was a beginner compared to Ray, but he brought me to an orgasm. "Oh, Oh, Yes. Don't stop. OHHHHHHH."

We wandered over to the sofa and cuddled until he was ready again. I was thinking, my implant had expired a couple months ago; I hoped there was something left in it. When it had gone into my arm, Ray was completely normal. We would have sex two or three times a month.

"Are you sure it's OK?" Eliot asked.

"Yes, Yes," I lied; I wasn't sure at all. I lay across the sofa. Eliot climbed over me. I guided him in. This was it; really it. It was wonderful. His powerful thrusts. My pushing back. The sounds of two lovers. The heat of his ejaculation.

"Will you stay tonight?" I begged. And when we sat on the edge of the bed, I added, "That was so much better than what I do for myself."

"What is that?"

I opened the end table drawer and pulled out Plastic Vibrating Penis. He laughed, "How does it work?"

I turned it on and rubbed my clit.

"It's huge, so much bigger than me," he ...

... observed.

"I suppose. … It doesn't matter. Here, you do it."

I handed it to him and lay back on the bed, my legs wide, and held my cunnie open. He cautiously held it there. "Go ahead." I felt my vagina swallow the toy. It felt pretty good, especially because I wasn't the one stroking it in and out.

But when my orgasm arrived once again, I ordered him, "Enough! You. Now you. You fuck me!"

And he did, deeply, exuberantly. And again, before breakfast. And after breakfast in the kitchen. We showered together but I was too sore for more sex.

I had a twinge of remorse after we kissed at the door, and he left. I felt that same twinge every time we met at his place before going to the memory care home. Ray died three months later. Emily went a few weeks after Ray. Eliot and I couldn't figure out a way to keep getting together without drawing attention to ourselves, but after an appropriate interval, we got in touch and even went on a secret vacation together. A year later we married.