Not What He Was Used To

Sam left the bedroom and came back with a container. “I want to try something,” squeezing some of the liquid on her hands. She knelt down between his legs and took his limp dick in her hands. With her fingers intertwined Sam worked the shaft up and down slowly until blood filled the spongy stem. She used all the surfaces of her hands. There was no part of her hand that did not touch, caress or cup his penis. This continual assault went on what seemed like for hours. The pressure was building up in Ken’s head ever so slowly. He found himself begging to be inside of Sam, but she did not stop. She was on a mission. Two handed, she finished each up stroke with lightly pinching the bulbous head between her eight fingers.

‘Wow,’ he thought. ‘This is un-fucking believable.’ Her tempo never increased or decreased, just a steady movement aiming for the ultimate goal. It seemed that Ken’s problem with getting erections was put on hold. His dick didn’t get the memo. His balls were tensing up and his mouth opened and nothing came out. Nothing should feel this good. As he finally orgasmed, he felt that his sperm was going to shoot up to the ceiling. Sam had a towel ready and wiped him clean, turned him over and smacked him on the ass. He really wanted to put his thumb in his mouth, but that would be too embarrassing.

He smelled the faint hint of almonds. ‘Must have been the oil.’

Now Sam was spooning him. Ken couldn’t even talk. His heart was finally slowing down. No one had been able to get him that hard since he had developed erectile dysfunction problems a few years ago. He thought Viagra would be his sexual cocktail forever. But, newsflash, there was a new sheriff in town and her name was Sam.