Wife Wants Me to Suck Cock

Brandy and I were in our 30’s, no kids, living next door to Roger, a widowed man in his mid-60’s. Brandy and I had been married about 8 years. She’s a very pretty gal and I’m madly in love with her. We didn’t have a great sex life, but we thought we were average, maybe once or twice over every two weeks or so. It was daily when we were first married, then slowed to a couple times a week, then less often as the months and years past. But I guess things always slow down once couples are settled in together. At least that’s what we told ourselves. We were basically very happy together. Good jobs and a nice homelife together. No sexual complaints about size, duration, foreplay, or anything like that. But I would say we were very “vanilla.” Mostly missionary or Brandy on top. Occasional doggie-style when Brandy felt a little more “naughty.” Neither of us had much sexual experience before we were married. We weren’t virgins but we both didn’t date much or have many serious relationships before we met and fell in love. I had maybe had sex 4 or 5 times, Brandy about double that, or so she said. Neither of us have ever strayed, but I would masturbate fairly often when Brandy wasn’t in the mood or available for other reasons like her periods, work schedules, illness or whatever. I did it privately when Brandy wasn’t home or in the bathroom by myself. Although Brandy never talked about it, I knew she masturbated as well. I accidently found a vibrator in her make-up drawer. It’s just something we never talked about, but I wondered what she fantasized about or if I was a good-enough lover for her.

Roger’s wife had passed away about 10 months ago. He was a nice-looking guy, salt and pepper gray hair, in great shape for an older man. Brandy would comment sometimes how handsome and nice-looking he was, even though he was about 30 years older than us. Roger was an avid bicyclist. He took a bad spill on his bike a couple days ago, flipping over the front of his bicycle. He had tried to extend his arms to break his fall and ending up breaking both of his arms. His left arm was in a cast over his elbow and his right arm was cast from his wrist to his elbow. He could get around just fine but couldn’t do much without the use of his arms. Doctors said it would be 6-8 weeks before the casts could come off.

Brandy and I felt bad for him and wanted to help our kindly older neighbor as much as we could. He was always very friendly and nice to us. Now losing his sickly wife and then this terrible accident, unable to take of himself or his home had to make him depressed. He had always been such an active guy and a good neighbor to us. But at least he was retired and didn’t have to worry about work now. Brandy would drop off meals for him and one of us would go over after work to check on him, help him do dishes, get his mail, whatever he needed. On Saturday, a few days into his recovery, Brandy had gone shopping and I took him lunch and was doing his dishes and straightening up for him. I asked him, “Roger, is there anything else I can do for you today?”

He said, “Well, Brian, I’m not sure you would want to do this, but I can’t take a shower due to my casts. Would you be able to help me into the bathtub? I can’t really wash but at least I could soak.”

“Sure, Roger, I understand.” I grabbed some plastic bags to wrap his casts and we headed to his bathroom. I taped the bags around his arms and began running the bath water. There were bath bubbles on the shelf, I assumed left over from his wife, and I jokingly said, “We might as well make this as comfy as possible for you,” and I poured in the bubble bath. The bubbles started to fill the tub.

Roger was able to get a t-shirt and boxer shorts on. I pulled his shirt up over his casts and stood looking at his athletic body. I went to pull his shorts down and there was resistance. Roger had a hard-on. He said, “I’m sorry about this Brian. I still get pretty randy, and I do miss my wife. In her better years we were quite sexually active. Please just try to ignore it and help me into the tub.” His hard-on was hard to ignore. Now, I’ve never found myself attracted to men, but Roger had quite a cock! I estimated a good 7 or 7 1/2 inches long and a nice thick girth! Probably 2″ longer than my own! And fatter! I’m not used to looking at cocks, but geez, this guy had a beauty! I took his arm and settled him into the tub, but his erection stood above the water line!

“Umm, Roger, do you want me to wash you?”

“Oh, I can’t ask you to do that, Brian.”

“No, really, it’s ok,” I told him. “It’s no problem. I know you can’t do this.” I grabbed a washcloth, soaped it up and washed Roger’s face. I worked the washcloth down his chest and rinsed as I went along his body. He sat up and I washed his back. I brought one leg up at a time and washed them both along with his feet. “Stand up Roger. I’ll do the rest.”

Roger was still amazingly hard. Such a beautiful cock. I really wanted to touch him. To wash his penis for him. And his balls. I never had any thoughts like this before, but seeing Roger erect made me want to do this. Roger stood up, his cock facing me as I kneeled next to the tub. He said, “You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

I didn’t say anything, but I soaped my hands and took Roger’s penis in my hands. I soaped his pubic hair and soaped his big balls. I washed the area between his balls and his asshole. I pretended to be washing him while I was lightly stroking his manhood, mostly for my own pleasure and devious thoughts. I mean, how else do you wash a cock? I felt a little safer and more at ease when Roger didn’t object, and I heard him give out a little grunting moan. He said, “Mmm…sorry man, but that really feels so good. No one has touched me since my wife, and she had been sick for a year before she passed so there hasn’t been any sex for me for quite awhile. I’ve masturbated a few times, but it’s not the same as when someone else does it. I hope I’m not embarrassing you to have you wash me like this.”

“No, really, Roger, it’s fine.” I tried not to let on that I was as excited as he was. I ran a rinse cloth over his genitals and told him to turn around. His ass was now practically in my face. “Roger, umm…should I wash you back here?” I was secretly hoping he would say “yes.”

“That would be great, if you don’t mind.”

I soaped my hands again and washed his big, manly buttocks. I slide my soapy hand down his crack and lightly brushed over his anus with my fingers. Roger moaned again. I seemingly had his approval to continue. I placed a finger on his anus and held it there, sort of waiting for his response. Roger said, “Yes, please go ahead. Clean my asshole.” I slipped my soapy index finger into Roger’s bottom. It was soft, warm and clean. I worked my finger in and out a few times and added my middle finger. Roger groaned louder. I took this as a good sign, and I reached around with my other hand and held Roger’s hard penis. I probably didn’t need to ask him, but I wanted to hear myself ask him…”Roger, can I jack-you off?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah. Please.”

I kept my two fingers working in and out of his ass while I wrapped my full fist around Roger’s magnificent cock and began stroking him. I don’t know which one of us was more turned on. He put his plastic wrapped arms against the wall to brace himself and he bucked in my hand. I picked up my speed and tightened my grip. All I could think about was this huge cock going in and out of his wife’s pussy and mouth for all those married years. Maybe even anally. He slid easily in my soapy hand. I wanted to make my hand feel like his wife’s pussy. I imagined Brandy taking his huge cock in her tight pussy. His manly grunting told me he was going to cum and I pumped him to match his spurts. I drew down on his cock, towards his base, as he emptied out the last drops against the tile wall and down into the tub. We were silent for few minutes as I pulled my fingers from his ass. I told him to stay standing while I drained the tub and flushed out his cum. I ran some fresh warm water and used the washcloth to remove the soapy residue from his body. Since he couldn’t dry himself, I did that for him too. I got clean boxers from his dresser and held them out for him to step into and pulled a clean t-shirt over his head.

Roger said, “I wasn’t expecting that, but that felt amazing, Brian. Sorry I can’t reciprocate, but I probably wouldn’t anyway even if I could. I’ve always been a ladies’ man.” He chuckled.

“I understand, Roger. You know I love Brandy very much. I really wouldn’t want her to know about this.” He told me not to worry about it.

The next day was Sunday. Brandy and I were both off from work. Brandy made lunch for Roger and was about to head over to his house. I stopped her and said, “No, I’ll take it to him.” She looked at me quizzically as I grabbed the food and headed out the door. Roger had given us keys to his house. I rang the bell and let myself in. Roger was on his couch watching TV. I felt somewhat embarrassed seeing my neighbor since I last masturbated him with such enthusiasm. We made small talk and I finally brought up the uncomfortable situation.

“Roger, I’m not sure what to say about yesterday, but it really excited me. I had to masturbate when I got home last night, in the bathroom, so Brandy wouldn’t see me.”

Roger said, “Thinking about my cock while you had your pretty little wife right there.”

“Yes, I was. I had never thought about a man before, but I must admit that excited me Roger.”

I was hoping he would ask me to do it again, but he didn’t. He just sat watching TV. I thought maybe I disappointed him, or he didn’t like it. I felt ashamed that I brought it up to him and left soon after.

Back at the house, Brandy asked what took me so long last night, and why I wanted to rush back over there today. I stumbled around trying to come up with a good answer. She continued to grill me. She asked me, “It never takes that long. Brian, what were you doing there?”