REMINISCENCES OF A RETIREE

REMINISCENCES OF A RETIREE

By Malathy David

Yet another story, true or wishful thinking or a mixture of both, not sure, heard in my consulting room. It is about the earlier relationship with mature people and how it influences later life. Narration is in first person, as I heard. Your feedbacks may please be sent to purkun@hotmail.com

What is your definition of an old man? Legally, it can be a retired person, because retirement from service is the beginning of old age and pension is intended for old people. If it true, I am an old man of three years, retired three years back; our State Government considers old age starts at 55. The retirement order has not reached my body; not yet wrinkled, not my hair; except a few, hairs are still black, and not at all to the testosterone production; still normal. The society expects ripened and mellowing attitude, gestures from a retired man. Hence, advances from a retired man at the crowded bus or public places will never be considered at par with that of a young boy. The maximum I can expect is a hug of a little girl, pressing her budding chest with mine, mild fondling of her buttocks on the pretext of affection to children or mild grinding of my erection between the ass cheeks of a little girl, sitting on my lap, which will normally not be reported to elders.

My routine commences with a walk in the early morning, going through two new papers before breakfast with my wife. My wife leaves for office at 9 ‘O’ clock (she has two years of service more), leaving me alone till evening. My reading is balanced with books on philosophy, fiction and some sexual stories from internet. One movie in vernacular every day, some soft porn from TV channels and occasionally some hard stuff from internet are my visual routine. My wife had her menopause five years back has increased our sexual relationship from once a week before menopause to alternate days may be because of her fear of frigidity or may be to prevent me from seeking outside pleasures because of her knowledge of my high testosterone production. Still I use to masturbate more than once a day apart from our long sessions in bed. My evening walk at the park or through the beach is enough to feast my eyes and fire my fantasies.

This incident is recent one, which changed my views on retired men. An uneventful day, was sitting at my reading room upstairs, beside the window opening to the backside of my house, reading ‘In the days of Cholera” by Marcase. The undefeatable love of the old man hero moved me a lot. The servant’s bathroom at the backside was opened and our servant girl, Radha came out. She just had her bath after the tiresome morning works at the kitchen. She was in her white, wet underskirt, stick to her body, walking to her room outside the building. Even though she was with us for the last few years as a child, I had never noticed her as a woman nor had she appeared attractive in her usual long skirt and long jacket, she use to wear in the house.

Now the female body exposed through the wet, transparent underskirt, wrapped above her breast, which reached just below her knees astonished me. Her white naked calves were shining under the sunlight. While walking, her wide round ass cheeks were performing a voluptuous dancing motion. Her budding breasts were standing straight against the wet skirt. My adrenalin production reached maximum. She entered her room and closed the door behind her. I forgot the ethics of a retired old man. I went downstairs and gently peeped through the unbolted door. I was spellbound on the unique feast before me. Without suspecting the presence of another human being, she changed, standing fully nude, into her usual long skirt and jacket. Except the underskirt, she seemed not in the habit of using other under garments. Her armpits and pussy were covered with dark hairs, might not have trimmed yet. She went to the mirror facing the door and began to comb her hair. I gently retreated since she may come out at any time and I should not lose the image of a decent retiree.

In my room, beside the open window, keeping an open book on my lap, I could see her coming out of her room, going to the kitchen, may be to finish some minor works.  I couldn’t read anything, watch TV or browse even a porn site. The adrenalin production seemed accelerating and every cell of my body was rioting to feel the female body, I just had seen. My image inside the family, especially before my wife, is that of a gentleman. My wife considers me as a conservative monogamist, and even a mild violation of me may be intolerable to her. But now I failed to control my adrenalin.             

I went downstairs, to the kitchen, where Radha was doing some minor cleaning. She came to our house three years back, as a child of twelve, from a very poor family. She talked less and was obedient and loyal to us. Since our children are not with us; daughter married off abroad and son, employed at Delhi in a multinational company, she was the only available member in the house round the clock. We use to call her “Mole” means daughter.

I called her at the door steps, “Mole”.

She turned back and answered, “Yes Sir!”

“I have to go out. You sweep my room while I bath so that I can close the room.”

“I’ll do Sir”

I went upstairs, placed a porn picture book among the scattered books on the table and closed the bathroom behind me. I could see the entire room from the keyhole of the bathroom door. A few minutes later she came to the room with a broom and began to clean the floor. I turned on the shower; the sound of the gush of shower was audible outside. After cleaning the floor, as usual, she began to arrange the scattered books on the table. That was the moment I was waiting for. The picture book with the nude photograph of a woman on the cover cannot escape her eyes. Her hands stood still. Staring at the picture she stood for some time. Then with trembling hands she turned the pages. She looked around with fearful eyes in anticipation of somebody noticing her. With wide open eyes, trembling fingers, she turned each page. Before opening each page, she confirmed nobody around her and the gush of shower was still on. As she reached the last page, I turned the shower off; as the sound of gush of water from the shower ceased, with a mild shock she closed the book and placed it among the arranged books; she went out, closing the door behind her.

I came out of the bathroom, with a sigh of relief of being performed half of the planned works. The rest is her part. I made a silent prayer for her performance of the same as per my plan. I changed my dress to go out and saw her going to her room through the open window. She entered into her room, closed the door. Slowly I went down and peeped through the unbolted room; it was my wife’s instruction, not to close her room in daytimes. As imagined, she was in heats. Sitting on the edge of her cot, her right hand was under her long skirt, must be fondling her pussy. Slowly she turned the skirt up and now I could see her middle finger inside the thick bush of hair, moving in and out. Thanks God, up to this time everything worked out as my plan. Staring at the pussy, her index and middle fingers were moving fast. I slowly opened the door a bit. With grrr… sound of the un-oiled hinges the door opened. She raised her head towards me. Her body seemed frozen; she couldn’t remove her fingers from her pussy for few seconds. Then suddenly she put her skirt down to her ankles and stood up.

She was trembling like a thief caught in the daylight. I feared, her eyes would rain then. I went to her, gently patted her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry. Every girl does this, before marriage. Don’t worry, I had seen it. I am old enough to understand your feelings.” Raising her face with my hand, looking at her eyes I told, “I’ll tell nobody, this will be your own secret.” She seemed a bit relieved, but her tender body was trembling slightly. I gently fondled her cheeks and arms and gradually she became calm in my hands. Holding her face on my hand, looking at her eyes I told her in a gentle voice “Mole, I know you are alone here. You do not have any friends to share your feelings. Don’t have any inhibitions before me. I am old enough to understand all your feelings. What you did is normal, natural and that of a healthy growing girl. But I think you require a proper training because you have no friends to teach you”. She was listening to me attentively. Holding her towards me, I took her right palm. Her nails are protruding, seems uncut for a long time. Fondling her nails I told “this will surely hurt your vagina”. Innocently she asked, “What is vagina Sir?” Gently touching her pussy over her skirt I asked, “What you call this?” Bowing her head, looking downwards she said, “It is pooru Sir”. My evil mind was happy to hear the vernacular of her genitals from the innocent girl. My plan was working out properly.

I told her compassionately, “This is your own body and you are the one and only authority over it. You can do anything which gives you pleasure. But you should be very careful in handling internal organs. In fingering, as the internal organs are involved, you must be careful in hygiene. Before doing it, you must cut your nails properly and wash both your hands and pooru well. Now, you come to my room with a brinjal from the kitchen and I will trim your nails and show how to do this properly”. She came to my room with a medium size brinjal soon. I carefully trimmed her nails and polished it. I suggested doing everything before a mirror, which would be more enjoyable. I asked her to remove the clothes fully; she with much reluctance removed her jacket and long skirt without any undergarments slowly before the toilet mirror. I noticed through the corner of my eyes, her watching own nudity, peeping on the mirror. I seated her on the commode and asked her to spread her legs. Looking downwards, she spread her legs a bit, just partially exposing her bushy pussy. I soaked her pussy with toilet sprinkler and began to soap her pussy; she gently spread her legs wider to give room for my hand and as my hand moved downwards beyond her anal hole, she moved forward to make my job easier. Soaking the entire bush and beneath with rich soap lather; I began my wicked instructional role. Opening the pussy lips, I showed her how to wash it. My forefinger gently ran over the inner lips, with a long tickling on the clit. She was trembling on the efficient movements of my fingers. Then, I gently inserted my middle finger in her vagina and moved in and out for some time; withdrawing from vagina, my middle finger moved to her anal hole and tickled it for some time. Then I washed the entire region, pointing the sprinkler over her clit and vagina for long; she was enjoying with wide spread legs. I dried her with a clean towel. She was peeping through the corner of her eyes, her image in the mirror. I asked her to stretch her hands in the washbasin. I washed both her palms with soap and dried it.

Though my hands were struggling to fondle her beautiful ass buns, suck her already erect nipples and to place her on lap over my aggressive dick, the cautious mature man in me prevented it; the young beginner should not smell any evil desires; she should feel everything is instructional lesson from a disinterested mature man to an inexperienced girl, out of the affection towards her. Everything until now is proceeding as per my wishes. I asked her seat at the edge of a table, placing her legs on the arms of a chair put before the table. I asked her to spread her legs wide apart and run her forefinger from the bottom of her pussy lips upwards. I asked her to tickle the clit for some time after every motion. She did it. I felt the presence of her clit and the magic of the finger on it was entirely new to her. She was really enjoying it. Then I asked her to open the pussy lips with her other hand and see how it looks from the mirror image (my dressing mirror was just opposite to the table she seated). Looking at the mirror, seeing her open cunt, she lowered her eyes, blushingly. Then I asked her to insert the middle finger of her other hand in the vagina and move in and out, tickling the clit with her thumb. She obeyed with trembling body. Her nipples were hard erected; eyes half closed, forgetting my presence. I told her, “If you have a good girlfriend, she could have fondled your breasts and suck the nipples. It would be of much pleasure, while doing this”. She opened her eyes; the invitation in it was evident. The wicked plan of a retiree was blooming. I asked, “Do you want me to help you?” looking downwards, she gently nodded her head in approval. I went to her side, my hands gently fondling her bulging boobs, kneading the nipples; gradually my pressure on it hardened. My wet lips covered one nipple, sucking hard. Her finger movements in the pussy achieved momentum. She was screaming out of pleasure. I sucked each nipple, pressing the other hardly. I could feel her climax, her finger motion subsided, leaning backwards on my chest with closed eyes; still my lips on her nipples.                            

After some time she came to her senses; opened her eyes; she straightened herself from my chest, stood on the floor naked with the blush on her face. To escape from my thirsty eyes, she covered her pussy with one hand and boobs with the other. I compassionately fondled her shoulders, embraced her to my chest and asked her, “Do you feel good?” Burying her face on my chest she murmured, “Seen heaven Sir!” All I could was to fondle and suck her boobs; my erection was killing me for an immediate penetration. I could feel the erection of her boobs already subsided after her orgasm and I have to kindle it again at any cost. Pressing her boobs to my chest, I fondled her back, from shoulder to ass buns. My fingers were writing poems on her ass cheeks. I felt her waist coming closer and closer to mine and my erection tickling her pussy. Gradually, her boobs began to bounce and the nipples became hard. This was the expected dearest moment and I should not lose this, at any cost; without losing my decency before this girl.

Raising her chin towards mine with my hand, I said, “Mole, you have learned only the preliminaries. Now you have to learn the advanced methods, which will be useful for your daily routine. Do you want it?” Her inhibitions have gone and with a begging voice she said, “Please Sir!” I took the brinjal she brought from the kitchen store and washed it well in the wash basin. I said, “After the initial stimulations, if you use this brinjal instead of your fingers, it will be more enjoyable and hygienic. I’ll show how to use it”.  Seating her on the edge of the table, I began to fondle her bulging boobs, kneading the nipples. She was breathing heavily with low moans. Sucking one of the nipples, I parted her legs and began to stimulate her pussy. My experienced forefinger ran through every part of the inner lips and clit for some time and I felt the wetness of her vagina. I placed the tip of the brinjal on her opening and try to insert it gently. Looking on her eyes I asked, “Mole, is it hurting you?” She said smilingly, “A bit Sir, but please don’t stop”. With a few mild thrusts, it entered and I began to move it in and out. Her legs spread widest and eyes closed, leant to my chest. I asked, “How do you feel, Mole?” Without opening her eyes, she murmured, “Beyond all heavens Sir”. Gradually, I slowed the pace of the brinjal. She opened her eyes and begged to me, “Sir, faster please”. I can’t afford another orgasm with the brinjal and I said, “It may hurt you Mole. Let’s do it slowly”.

Without arousing her much, I moved the brinjal at a very slow pace. Now I have to proceed with my plans. Looking at her eyes I asked, “Mole, what made you so hot in the morning? You can tell anything to me because I am too old and I can understand all your feelings”. Her face reddened with a blush; evidently she can’t leave the pleasure she was enjoying. After the silence of a few seconds, she disclosed the incident. She said, “I was arranging the books on your table after cleaning the room. I saw a picture book with nude men and women doing something. As you were in the bathroom, I saw all the pictures. After seeing it, I felt an unbearable itching inside my pooru and hence I was fingering”. My wicked mind made a silent prayer to the God for executing all my plans. I gently removed the brinjal from her and turned to the table for the picture book. I opened the book before her and turned the pages for her to see again. Seeing the porn pictures, her eyes became wide and the spasm of her vagina was vivid. After turning all the pictures before her, I told in a mellowing voice, “Mole, these pictures are for the married people. After marriage, man and woman do such things. Before marriage, boys and girls are alone and hence they have to do these things all by themselves unless they have close friends”.  Showing the picture of a huge dick piercing a pussy between the wide spread legs, I said, “You were doing the same thing with your fingers and the brinjal as a boy does with his penis”. Again her innocence came out, “What is a penis, Sir”. I pointed the huge dick in the picture and asked, “What you call this?” She said, “It is kunna, Sir”. I felt rejoiced hearing the vernacular of the dick from her. I said, “You felt much better by inserting the brinjal instead of your fingers because brinjal is like kunna”. She took the brinjal and compared with the picture of the dick with a smile.

I asked, “Have you ever seen kunna apart from these pictures?” She nodded in the negative, “No Sir, only that of kids”. “Do you want to see it?” lowering her face she nodded in the affirmative. Even though I went to her room at the pretext of going out, I didn’t wear any undergarments beneath my dhoti. I raised my dhoti to the much awaited release of my erect dick. Her eyes were bulging out on the sight of it. I told her, “Mole, if you want you can touch it and see whether it is like a brinjal”. Her hand raised but couldn’t stretch it to hold my dick. I gently took her palm in my hands and put it on my dick. She gently touched it, held it in her palm and began to press it gently. “It is harder than the brinjal Sir”, she told in a low voice. I said, “Do you know how boys are doing it themselves?” “No Sir”. I placed my hand over her hand on my dick and slowly moved forward and backwards. She was watching the red knob of the dick appearing and disappearing in her hands. Even after releasing my hand, she continued jacking my dick. I said, “It will be much better doing with kunna than the brinjal. You want to try it?” Looking at my face with her wide eyes she begged to me, “Please do it Sir”.                                                    

Standing between her spread legs, I held her shoulders and made her lie on the table. Holding her thighs I moved close to her so that my dick was touching her pussy. Fondling her boobs and kneading her nipples, I said “Mole, put it in the right place”. She stretched her right hand, held my dick and jacked for a few times. Then put the tip of the dick to her vaginal opening. I parted the lips of her pussy and gently pushed the dick in the pussy which was already wet. Knowing well that she cannot stop it even if it hurts, I said “Mole, please tell me if it hurts”. Nodding her head, she closed her eyes; pain was clearly legible on her face. I tickled her clit and nipples to reduce the pain. She was biting her teeth to avoid screaming out of pain. After a few pushes, my dick entered fully and there was a sigh of relief from her. Her eyes were overflowing with tears. She smiled over the tears. I stood there for some time in that pose. Then she begged to me, “Sir, please move slowly”. My gentle upward movements were responded by her downward thrusts. Moving on her pussy, I bent over her and sucked her nipples and lips. I tickled her armpits and ears with my tongue. The thrust of her hips rhythmically accelerated and I could sense her coming orgasm. I stood motionless for some time but her thrusts became violent and she collapsed. Her vaginal muscles were squeezing my dick frantically. I stood still with my erection inside her. After some time she opened her eyes and very passionately looked at me. I withdrew my dick from her.

She stood at the floor and held my erect dick covered with her love juices. She innocently asked, “Sir, you also got the same pleasure I got?” “No Mole. Men will get satisfaction only after ejaculation”. She asked, “What is ejaculation Sir?” I showed the picture of a cumming dick from the book. She noticed it with awe. I told her the cum from the dick makes a girl pregnant. I told her never allow a boy to fuck her in her pooru before her marriage because no boy will withdraw his kunna from the pooru until he cums. Only her husband can make her pregnant. She was desperate on seeing my erect dick. She apologetically asked, “How can I make you cum Sir?” I said, “I’ll cum either by fucking in the pooru for some more time or by jacking off as I have shown earlier. Since you have already cum, only jacking off is left”. She innocently told, “I’ll do anything for you Sir, because you have shown me heaven. I’ll jack you off Sir”. She sat on the floor between my legs and began to jack me. Looking closely with awe, she touched every portion of my shaft and gently jacked with her soft hands. I showed her how to fondle the balls while jacking off. She tried for a very long time in vain; my dick was still hard. Her innocent face, awfully watching every part of my shaft and her cherry lips so close to my shaft ignited an evil wish in me; I imagined those wet cherry lips around my shaft. She was frantically jacking my shaft to make me happy. I took the picture book and began to watch the porn pictures. There was the picture of blowjob also. Intentionally I took a page, opposite side of the page facing her was the blowjob, really intended to show her the same and looked for some time. She while jacking me off looked at the page and innocently asked me, “Sir, what this picture is of?” I turned the page and said it is another way of fucking. Then I demonstrated a comparison between mouth and pooru. Opening her pussy lips I told, “This is like mouth; these are the lips”. Touching the clit I said, “This is the tongue. Inside the mouth, the opening leads to the stomach and in the pooru it leads to the womb. Except the teeth, both mouth and pooru are the same. Hence mouth can be used as pooru also”. She innocently asked, “Sir, will your cum in my mouth make me pregnant?” I said, “No Mole. Pregnancy is in the womb and the cum through your pooru alone can make you pregnant”. She seemed much excited because she was desperately trying to make me cum at any cost. She asked, “Let me try it Sir?” Concealing my joy, I asked her, “Won’t it be nauseating to you?” She said innocently, “No Sir. I can do anything to make you cum. I love every part of you”. I washed my dick in the washbasin with soap. I told her how to lick the knob and slit with her tongue and wet the shaft with her saliva before sucking. The sight of her cherry lips around my shaft was enough for a violent cum. Within few minutes, my load of cum filled her young mouth. Swallowing the entire cum, she held my shaft in her mouth for some more time and felt the limping of it in her mouth itself. Holding my limp dick in her hand, she asked me, “Sir, did you get much pleasure?” Placing her on my lap, fondling her chin I said, “The greatest pleasure I ever experienced”.

I shaved her pubic hairs periodically and taught personal hygiene. I brought her to the heaven innumerable times using my tongue. I was very careful to store sufficient number of condoms always. It lasted several years; even after the retirement of my wife, without any third party including wife sensing anything about it.

The actual problem surfaced years later, when my wife found a boy for her. She strongly objected the proposal. She confided to me that she can never leave me. If she has to marry, it must be with a man of my age, who is willing to share her with me as and when we require. I had to take her, without the knowledge of my wife, to Malathy David for counseling. There, I narrated everything before Malathy. It worked. She could convince Radha and agree for the marriage. Now, Radha is happily married; sharing herself between me and her husband. Even after years of her marriage and her delivery, I still continue to be her addiction.