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A New Lease
by Dave (ufpe@inorbit.com)

***

A retired couple tries a new ED treatment. (MF)

***

The sound of a blaring car horn shattering the still 
morning air prematurely ended my exotic wet dream of 
sex starved nymphs pampering my aged torso with 
gleeful abandon. Didn't have many of these dreams at 
my age, and silently cursed the owner of the blaring 
horn knowing it would be highly unlikely to recapture 
the erotic sensations. Vivian, my trusted companion 
for the past thirty five years was snoring blissfully 
next to me with the sheets haphazardly pushed to the 
foot of the bed. 

The years had been good to her, a little larger and 
less will defined than earlier, but when compared to 
some of the flotsam thundering through Walmart, I 
considered myself fortunate. Quietly I rolled out of 
bed and staggered out to the kitchen to get the coffee 
started. The daily rag was thoughtfully stuck in the 
mail slot, and I separated the sections and began my 
morning ritual of digesting the sensationalized BS.

Viv was a light sleeper and was soon shuffling to the 
kitchen table where I sat in her threadbare robe and 
bunny slippers. Her hair looked as if it has 
experienced the business end of a thermonuclear air 
burst, and her eyes showed a few more wrinkles than 
they revealed when she wore the face paint it took 
half an hour to apply before she even considered the 
thought of leaving the condo. 

Staggering over to the coffee maker silently, she 
poured a cup of joe and ceremoniously sprinkled it 
with powdered creamer before wandering over to the 
table and plopping down unceremoniously. She glanced 
at me briefly while I was buried in the headlines and 
took a tentative sip before opening the "Family 
Section." 

Viv liked that section with all the pictures of folks 
in the community and the Want Ads that posted all the 
garage sales she and I would frequent most every 
weekend. Fortunately, Viv had a keen sense of 
direction and we seldom required a map during our 
weekend ventures through the sprawling suburbs. 

The almost oppressive silence was broken sometime 
later when Viv spoke up.

"Hey Jack, take a look at this," she said as she 
handed me a page of the want ads.

"OK dear, what am I looking at?"

"There's an ad for ED down in the lower right hand 
sheet," she mumbled, "some new kind of treatment and 
they make house calls."

"Oh come on now," I replied indifferently. "Probably 
just another scam." My "delivery system" went into 
retirement shortly after I had, and nothing had 
revived it to its former glory. We tried creams, 
pills, awkward pumps, and even briefly discussed 
surgical implants, but combined with Viv's dry and 
raspy interior, we both inevitably decided to leave 
well enough alone. I do miss my morning woody at 
times, like after last night's juicy dream, but the 
reality was that I'd probably croak with a heart 
attack if coitus was ever attempted. 

Viv snatched the paper back and refocused on the 
article. "I'm going to call them anyway," she stated 
firmly. "It says it won't cost anything."

"Honey," I began tentatively. "I smell rip-off from 
the get go. Can't we let just let a sleeping dog lie?"

"Jack, you may not believe this, but there are still 
times when I wouldn't mind feeling your 'sleeping dog' 
inside me;" she punched the numbers on the cordless 
phone keypad and listened thoughtfully.

"There's cucumbers in the fridge you know," I offered, 
already resigned to the forthcoming experience in 
futility. Vivian glared at me until someone answered 
the phone on the other end.

Viv gave surprisingly little information and hung up 
with a smug look on her face. "They'll be here this 
afternoon."

I nodded indifferently, and studied the stats from 
last night's game. At this point in my life, I have 
learned to take things as they come. Most all my 
friends had evolved beyond the wild sperm shooting 
hunts of our youth towards a mature collective of 
story tellers that had virtually forgotten performance 
and conquest issues. Sex was for the young and dumb, 
far too often resulting in regrets rather than long 
term fulfillment. Despite the constant array of 
commercials encouraging youthful pursuits, we were 
quite content with past conquests and our daily 
regimen of prescribed medications. 

Shortly after one thirty in the afternoon, a small 
white delivery van pulled into the guest parking and 
two white figures emerged carrying small bags. The van 
had a small emblem on the side that I couldn't 
decipher. Viv answered the door and offered a seat on 
the couch opposite the two easy chairs she and I most 
occupied. The male and female "technicians" were 
strikingly unremarkable in their appearance, early 
thirties I would guess and set about their tasks 
quickly and professionally. First, there were a 
battery of questions concerning our medical 
backgrounds which was quickly followed by a brief (yet 
stimulating) physical exam. The male member had my 
wife disrobe while the female member took me under 
counsel. 

Standing semi-naked, she unemotionally pulled down my 
bvds and gently examined the offending flesh with the 
curiosity of a virgin's first time exploration. Her 
hands were cool and baby soft, gently manipulating my 
wrinkled and lifeless flesh. Although no apparent 
physical reaction was triggered, the feeling of her 
gentle manipulations induced sensations that my dreams 
evoked. 

Meanwhile, Vivian was slouched in the chair as 
skillful fingers stirred her genitals into noticeable 
arousal. The air became thick with her essence and her 
genitals became fully engorged. The angry red swelling 
of her clitoris transported me back briefly to the 
passion filled nights of our youth when she would moan 
with sexual abandon and squirt forcefully upon climax. 
Flushed, with hearts pounding and libidos raging, we 
sank into our perspective chairs to await our 
prognosis. It had been a most arousing inspection, and 
I briefly wondered if our two visitors were a new kind 
of deviant that preyed on aging couples.

From their bags, they withdrew two syringes with a 
different color extract in each one before sitting on 
the couch. They explained they were from the Stellar 
Regenerative Institute, a research community that 
focused upon procreative dysfunction. They had 
developed several experimental inoculations that 
target biological reconstruction through tiny 
nanobots. The cumbots (as they were called) would 
remain active for 48 to 72 hours before being 
eliminated through the urine with very little 
discomfort. Thus far, the results were promising and 
permanent. With over a 98% success rate, we could 
become the newest participants in this treatment with 
merely a signature on a consent form and a follow-up 
phone call.

Vivian was enthusiastic, but I was skeptical. Perhaps 
years of work in the competitive world had made me so. 
I always searched for the downside to balance against 
the positive benefits. This "treatment" triggered 
alarm bells for several reasons. First, I'm not to 
keen on inserting mechanical devices into biological 
organisms (see surgical implants noted above). Second, 
these "cumbots" were injected into my urethra. Forgive 
me for my belief in the creation of a tube for 
elimination shouldn't be used conversely.

I hate enemas for that reason. Finally, along with a 
fore mentioned "sleeping dog" rational, sex can be 
both mentally and physically stressful - a condition 
my Doctor recommended I avoid. We had cucumbers, 
bananas, my tongue, fingers and no need for 
impregnation. Needless to say, with a few more 
assurances and Vivian's ever present encouragement, 
the technician was soon on her knees in front of me 
easing my underwear over my knees unceremoniously.

Opening a sterile package containing a long thin 
flexible tube, she screwed it into the vial with 
greenish yellow liquid. Firmly holding my lifeless 
organ upright, she guided the tube in slowly with both 
hands and returned to bracing my now stunned organ 
with one hand while the other slowly eased the pre-
lubed tube down its length and adjacent to my 
prostrate where it stopped.  

Vivian had her legs draped over the arms of her 
recliner as the male technician screwed a small 
perforated phallus on to the vial filled with reddish 
brown liquid. He slowly eased the phallus into her 
quivering birth canal until it disappeared completely 
as she drew a deep breath. Almost simultaneously, the 
technicians pressed the plungers and Vivian an I 
squirmed with the disquieting sensations of our mutual 
fluid invasion.  

I experienced a slight burning sensation quickly 
followed by the unmistakable urge to pee. Vivian began 
to squirm rhythmically until, as the contents were 
completely drained, she firmly grabbed the 
technician's free hand and held it to her vulva 
thrusting her hips in the unmistakable throes of 
orgasm. Her face and torso were so red they could have 
stopped rush hour traffic on the freeway. My 
technician firmly pinched the glans as she withdrew 
the syringe, trapping the sickly green colored 
substance securely inside. 

My prostrate protested vehemently for several seconds, 
attempting to expel the invaders with rhythmic 
contractions. The technicians kept the injection sites 
effectively blocked for several minutes before slowly 
releasing their pressure. Surprisingly, very little 
liquid escaped while we were gently massaged and wiped 
clean. With cool efficiency, they gathered the waste 
into a small hazardous waste plastic bag. Grabbing 
their bags, they waved and left after placing an 
information sheet and business card on the coffee 
table.

A few minutes passed before the previous events 
settled amidst the scent of Viv's arousal.  My balls 
felt too big and it felt like tiny needles were 
indiscriminately pricking my internal plumbing. Viv 
appeared exhausted, her legs splayed wide open as the 
redness in her upper torso gradually dissipated. 
Gingerly I eased myself up and shuffled over to the 
coffee table to study the information sheet. It 
advised us not to pee for half an hour, and the 
Institute would call in a week to ten days to ask a 
few questions and discuss any issues. The business 
card had a small green and red emblem with an 800-
number printed on cheap white index paper. The entire 
evolution was like the business card: quick, 
efficient, and simple. We'd soon find out if my 
suspicions were justified.

"Was it good for you," I asked as Vivian pulled her 
legs down into a more feminine pose and adjusted her 
clothes.

"Hmmm yeah," she murmured, "Feel anything, yet?"

"Don't know quite what to feel, Honey. I think a trip 
over to the Local Ice Cream parlor may be in order."

"Let me change," she replied enthusiastically. As she 
struggled to her feet, now void of bunny slippers, her 
unsteadiness prompted me to wrap my arm around her. 
She swiveled on to my leg and with a couple of 
forcible thrusts of her hips, bathed my naked thing 
with her orgasmic essence. Her body trembled for 
several minutes as her euphoria waned and her essence 
pooled around my foot.

"Damn, I'm officially impressed," I exclaimed as her 
eyes fluttered open signally her return to reality.

"You have no idea...," she whispered, obviously 
embarrassed, as she turned for the bedroom. Pulling on 
my pants sans underwear, I reflected that my aging 
wife had never been so aroused, even during our all 
night marathons of years past. Briefly I pondered the 
serums longevity, by quickly dispelled my doubts in 
favor of a wait and see posture. A quick trip to the 
head to comb my thinning hair and wipe my leg and we 
were off, hand in hand. En route I queried about her 
treatment.

"They asked and the price was right," she quipped 
enthusiastically, and planted a gentle kiss on my 
cheek.

"Wise choice," I returned as we strolled towards the 
parlor with the cheesy grins of young lovers in lust. 

We splurged on Neapolitan banana splits and waited in 
wrought iron, stick in the butt chairs near the 
window. The world seemed so far away, as we held hands 
and watched the younger generation hurriedly roaming 
the streets. The ice cream wasn't really all that hard 
and the excess of toppings were guaranteed to keep us 
on a sugar rush for a week, but the bananas were good. 
As I took my second bite, I was startled by the age 
old, pulse pounding, sensation emanating from my 
groin. A quick nonchalant glance revealed tenting 
trousers. 

I dropped my spoon in stunned silence – my dormant 
delivery system, had spontaneously and miraculously 
arisen. No explanation was necessary as Vivian's foot 
slid up my leg and she wrapped her toes seductively 
around the throbbing shaft. Her neck began to redden 
and her eyes doubled in size at her discovery. 
Excusing myself with a nod, I grabbed the flimsy menu 
in a sloppy attempt to hide my modesty and headed to 
the small restroom, thoughtfully equipped with a 
handicapped stall. 

The spring loaded door slammed shut, as I dropped my 
trouser to witness the glorious throbbing revival of 
my masculinity long ago left for dead.  My hand 
automatically closed around the smooth hard shaft, no 
longer limp and unresponsive. My glans was shiny and 
bulging with anticipation, and my balls slid into 
their standby position. I was overjoyed. The door 
suddenly slammed into my back and there stood wild 
eyed Vivian licking her lips. Before I could lodge a 
protest, she spun me around and pushed me onto the 
head (fortunately, the seat was down). 

She straddled my legs and plopped onto my lap, 
fumbling to pull aside her underwear and position my 
organ at the mouth of her slick engorged entrance. As 
she slowly slid down my length, she uttered a low 
fulfilling moan, and I experienced the tightest, 
warmest, silkiest intimate embrace I could ever 
remember. I was alive with delicious sensation, as she 
positioned herself to completely engulf me and satisfy 
herself. Our lips locked passionately. 

She ground her hips in a circular motion and threw her 
head back while emitting lust filled whimpers. My 
engorged glans probed the delicious feminine folds as 
they caressed my invader ardently. Suddenly her whole 
body tightened and with a high pitched squeak, her 
body quivered uncontrollable like a high rise in an 
earthquake. She tightened around me with painful 
force; my organ bulging obscenely in her warm wanton 
depths.

With raspy jagged breaths, she resumed her assault, 
and I took the liberty to engulf her pendulous breast 
as they jiggled in my face. Her nipples were hard 
enough to cut diamonds. A few seconds later, she 
erupted again, bathing my lap in her silky essence. 
Again she trembled uncontrollably, and I became lost 
in her bodies' beautiful response. Now gasping for 
breath, she began her pelvic thrusts once again with 
wild abandon.

I lost control, trying to halt the inevitable on rush 
of essence my balls were releasing. She squeaked again 
and I let go of the moment, bellowing like a castrated 
bull as years of pent up passion erupted into her warm 
silky core. She screamed and embraced me as if 
entrenched in a life or death struggle as my life 
giving reservoir burst and flooded her intimate depths 
beyond capacity. Our collective eruptions bathed our 
torsos, filling the air with our unique sex scent. 

I immediately experienced a cramp in my back and eased 
her off me with an agonizing shove. She collapsed on 
the floor in a fetal position, trembling and muttering 
incoherently, as I leaned back to relax the tormented 
muscles, cursing silently for my lack of conditioning. 
My delivery system softened slightly, but I knew it 
could rise again if given the opportunity.

The pain eased mercifully, and I reached down and 
stroked Vivian's matted hair when the owner of the 
parlor burst in and yelled "What's going on in here," 
with a deep baritone voice. In a panic I desperately 
searched for a response.

"Think I passed a kidney stone," I responded, burying 
my head in my hands as soon as I heard my response.

The door swung open, and with a quick appraisal he 
shook his head, confirming any doubts that my response 
was ill conceived.

"You might want to consider passing stones in a more 
appropriate establishment in the future," he offered 
with slight smile. "I'll get one of the boys clean up 
in here when you leave."

"Thanks... here," I handed him a five stuffed in my 
shirt pocket, "A tip for the trouble." He pocketed the 
bill and gave a dismissal nod. Gently I eased Viv into 
a sitting position as her body still quaked with mini 
spasms. 

"We gotta go, Babe."

She smiled gratefully at me and gently stroked my hand 
lovingly. "That's the first time you called me 'babe' 
since our honeymoon," she murmured gratefully.

"I'm sorry," I offered as I gently pulled her to her 
feet and helped to arrange her attire. 

"I'll always be your babe Jack." I patted her on her 
rump, a gesture of affection we had employed most of 
our mature lives and guided her into the parlor. Our 
order had been replaced with a fresh albeit covered 
replacement and the owner gave us a two fingered scout 
salute as we hurried through the glass door. 

"That was awkward'" Vivian offered as we neared our 
condo. I stopped and gave her a hug. We finished our 
walk and I threw the partially thawed splits into the 
freezer. When I entered the bedroom, Vivian was 
sleeping soundly, with her clothes strewn about her. 
The delicious sensations of the shower swirled through 
my memories as the warm water soothed my sore muscles. 
Making a mental commitment to commence a thorough 
exercise program, I slipped on a pair of clean sweats 
and flipped on the brainless box. A cool Bud joined me 
as the weather man tried to draw a convincing picture 
of what may come tomorrow. I realized a new chapter in 
my life with Viv had begun and I vowed to enjoy every 
moment. 

As dusk settled, I prepared soup and sandwiches and 
placed the loaded serving tray gingerly next to my 
Viv. She stirred and with a grateful smile, dove into 
the fixin's. About half way through, she dropped her 
sandwich onto the tray and gazed at me lovingly.

"How do you feel, Jack?" 

"Whole, and you?" 

"Empty, get over her and give me some sugar!"

I dropped my sandwich and gave her a passionate lip 
lock. Her hands went into action immediately, probing 
those secret places that always gave me rise. I pulled 
her clothes aside and buried my head between those two 
delicious orbs that had fed our offspring and provided 
countless hours of entertainment throughout our 
lifetimes together. Her hands slipped to my engorged 
genitals, and explored the unique characteristics 
lovingly before rolling me forcefully on my back and 
positioning herself over the throbbing shaft. 

With a swift downward thrust, I was buried balls deep 
in her delicious core, savoring the delicious coital 
cock tugs as she rode me like a possessed succubus. 
The normally silent bedroom atmosphere was soon 
punctuated with our mutual chorus of renewed passion 
and fulfillment. I don't know how many times we 
surrendered our collective essence. I only know that 
at some point, with our bodies and libidos exhausted, 
we fell into a fit full sleep, wrapped in cum soaked 
covers.

***

The morning dawn came way to soon. My body ached, my 
head throbbed unrelentingly, and when I withdrew the 
tented sheets, my rock hard, nail driving woody sprang 
into view in all its glory. I groaned and stared at 
the ceiling, painfully aware the spirit was willing, 
but its life support system was marginal, at best. A 
dull groan from the other side of the bed announced 
Vivian had drawn a similar conclusion. I rolled on my 
side to embrace her, my delivery system probing her 
fleshy bottom mindlessly until it slipped into her 
soft, slightly moist folds.  

"What's that," she murmured dreamily.

"It's a one-eyed space alien in search of the origin 
of life," I quipped marveling at my spontaneous 
ability to fabricate an explanation.

Her fingers guided my glans into her sweet spot as she 
murmured: "Let's give it the deluxe tour." Like a 
vintage machine, creaking and grunting to life after a 
decade of inactivity, my hips slowly forced my glans 
past the tight entrance into the warm depths, 
gradually increasing their strokes as her arousal 
triggered an influx of lubricating moisture. 

She grunted with each thrust; the sound of a contented 
kitten makes when you stroke it's chin on your lap. 
Before I reached my optimal thrust cycle, she froze 
and clamped down on the alien invader forcefully, 
bathing my delivery system with sweet smelling 
perfume. Her poor tortured body quivered weakly, and 
she released a long mournful moan of contentment. 

In my youth, I would have damned the torpedoes and 
surged full speed ahead, but empathy and fatigue 
evoked a slow, succulent retreat that ended with me 
flat on my back and Vivian whimpering.

"You alright Babe?" I asked breathlessly.

"Hmmm - but your one eyed alien might have the wrong 
impression." Her hand wrapped gently around the shaft 
and gently stroked the engorged flesh as the other 
teased the glans with delicate fingertips. With years 
of experience and soft coaxing words, my alien was 
soon blowing the sum of its essence in several long 
glorious arcs across my chest and shoulders. The 
orgasmic back arch brought me back to reality almost 
immediately when the strained back muscles asserted 
their displeasure. Vivian rolled me onto my side and 
worked her massage magic. All too soon, we both 
drifted back into satiated sleep, as the outside world 
plunged forward in their daily routines. 

I suppose there is no way we can truly express our 
appreciation to the Stellar Research folks for 
granting us a this new lease on life. We tried the 
800-number to no avail, and dialing assistance had no 
record they ever existed in our part of the country. 
Vivian and I have slowed a bit in the bedroom for 
self-preservation, but substantially increased our 
activities in the community. One should never 
underestimate the power of sexuality, and for those 
suffering from its decline due to the aging process; 
keep your eyes on the local want ads for an obscure ad 
from Stellar Regenerative Institute.    

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 75