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It ended when Sandy explained that she’d been offered a job hundreds of miles away. She wouldn’t be visiting any more. There was one last taste and one last blowjob.

In between visits from Sandy other women knocked on my door or called the assisted living facility. I don’t know if you’re surprised but I turned them down. Once a week was about all I could take.

To my surprise, a few months later, I had a visitor who I welcomed. It wasn’t Sandy Gordon, which in some ways was a disappointment. “Hello, Mr. Murton, do you remember me?”

Everyone asked me that. Sometimes I did; sometimes I didn’t.

“I’m sorry, I don’t.”

We sat on my sofa. “Let me show you a video.” On her phone, she played the interview on my birthday. “Now I remember Miss Hardy, Handy, Handly.”

“Hardiman. Anita Hardiman from the TV station. I came back to do a follow up.”

She started to ask about my health but I could sense her heart wasn’t in it. “Miss Hardiman, you seem to be distracted. Is there something bothering you?”

“Ummmmm,” she was blushing. “I-I-I can’t get over what you said about cunnilingus out of my head. I haven’t been able to dismiss it since we did the interview.”

“Oh?”

“Mr. Murton, I’m not a virgin but as far as cunnilingus is concerned . . .”

“Miss Hardiman, throughout my life, I must admit that I’ve rarely used the word cunnilingus. As a young man I always called it pussy eating. Are you telling me that you’ve never . . .? “Never.”

“What’s wrong with the boys around here. You’re a beautiful young woman. If I was fifty years younger, I’d be all over you.”

She blushed.

“That’s why I’m here. Mr. Murton, the young guys won’t. Could I interest you. . .”

She didn’t wait for my answer. Blouse and bra came off. My mind isn’t what it used to be, but I’m certain I’d never seen more beautiful titties. I told her so.

“Thank you, and Mr. Murton, that’s just the beginning.” She started taking off her pants.

I was still staring at those tits. When she got her pants off, she was standing in front of me wearing just a thong. My heart was pounding and I felt the same kind of movement that I felt when Sandy Gordon was blowing me.

“Mr. Murton, I see you staring. I suspect you haven’t been near titties in a while.”

Anita Hardiman straddled me but was smart enough to put all her weight on her knees. “They’re all yours, Mr. Murton.”

I was hesitant only because I’d forgotten how to handle them. When Sandy Gordon was here, she just took off her skirt and panties.

“Like this, Mr. Murton, I like it like this.” She took my hands and placed them on those magnificent tits.

Can anything feel better than the softness of tits? Especially in contrast to the hardness of Anita Hardiman’s nipples.

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