I am a woman in my early 20s, and I work as a home health care worker, mostly nursing elderly people. Last year I had a patient named Ned, who was quite advanced in years and lived alone. Shortly before he died, he confided to me one day that his final wish was to fondle a nice pair of firm young breasts once more before it was too late. He had tears in his eyes as he told me this. Well, of course I knew he was hoping that I would volunteer to gratify this desire, and even though I had recently gotten engaged, I figured why not? As he sat and watched, I quickly pulled up my T-shirt and then took off my bra, revealing my 34C tits to him. His eyes nearly exploded out of his head, and he just sat there staring at me for nearly a minute.
Finally, feeling sorry for him—and also because he was getting a little secret thrill from exhibiting myself to him—I moved closer and told him he could feel them if he wanted to. With trembling hands, he slowly reached up and felt them tentatively. After a moment he seemed to gain more confidence, and he began passionately squeezing them, and then sucking my sensitive nipples. I love having my nipples sucked, and I actually got somewhat turned on. What I had intended to be just a quick grope lasted for nearly 15 minutes, and eventually had me lying flat on the sofa with my skirt pushed up to my waist and the crotch of my panties pulled to one side so he could lick and finger my pussy also. He couldn’t get a hard-on, however, so he couldn’t have gotten any further, even if I had wanted him to. At that point I wasn’t sure whether I did or not.
Ned had tears in his eyes again as I got my clothes realigned, and he thanked me over and over. I let him give me another quick feel before I left.
Ned died two weeks later, and not long after that I got another assignment. The patient was a married man named Al. I soon found out that Al had asked the assignment office for me specifically, which puzzled me until I later found out that he and Ned had been friends.
When I first arrived at Al’s house I met him and his wife, Ava, both of whom seemed like lovely people. After a couple of visits, Ava took me aside and explained to me that Ned had told Al about my granting his dying wish, and that Al was hoping I would do the same for him—which, Ava said, was quite all right with her.
My first reaction was shock and embarrassment, but then I thought what the hell—Al was such a nice man, and as I said, I am a bit of an exhibitionist anyway. And I knew there was no way my fiancé would ever find out. So finally I told her I would do it.
We both went into Al’s room, where he was lying in bed. When Ava told him that I had said yes, his face brightened up immediately, and he smiled at me as he told me how grateful he was. Ava then said she would leave us alone, and as she walked out of the room I began unbuttoning my blouse.
Al sat up in bed and eagerly watched as I undid each button. His face lit up again as I removed my top, followed by my lace bra. When my tits were free, I dropped my arms to my sides and let him admire me for a while. He told me I had the most beautiful tits he’d ever seen, and then he motioned me closer, saying he wanted to touch them.
I sat on the bed and he spent nearly half an hour playing with my tits. I was all tingly and turned on by the time Ava came in to check on us. She made some brief small talk as I sat topless on the bed, with her husband still fondling me. As she talked her eyes kept going to my tits, with her husband’s hands on them. I got the impression that she wanted to touch them also, so I told her to go ahead. She gave each breast a quick feel and a pull at the nipple, then thanked me and left the room again.
Al then asked me to take off my jeans and panties, and I made a little show of it as I did so. I then got back on the bed beside him while he played with my breasts and pussy, which excited me some more. I let him go on until he actually brought me to a rather mild climax.
Shortly after that Ava came back in, and we went through the whole routine again as she sat on the bed and stared at my swollen pussy. At one point I felt her hand rest on my upper thigh, and then slide up to caress my pussy for a few seconds. I felt a little strange about that; I’d never been intimate with another woman, let alone one in her late 50s. But then she just got up and left again.
After she was gone that time, Al begged me to let him fuck me. At first I said I couldn’t, telling him that I was engaged, but he continued to plead with me. This was something I hadn’t planned on, since Ned had not been able to get it up. Al, however, evidently had no such problem. After much begging, I told him that if he could get a sufficient hard-on I would let him inside me.
Well, he did. As a matter of fact, I ended up helping him along by stroking his cock until it was fully erect, and I was surprised to see that it was at least six or seven inches long. I forgot all about my fiancé at that moment, and soon I was climbing on his lap and bobbing up and down on his shaft. He managed to fuck me to a very strong climax, but when he came he just spasmed weakly, and I didn’t even feel a trickle as I climbed off him. So I figured I had nothing to worry about, even though he wasn’t wearing a condom.
I was headed for the bathroom when I ran into Ava in the hallway. I asked her if she was okay with what had just happened, and she said she was. I leaned over to kiss her cheek affectionately, and as we shared a light hug her hand moved across my breasts, then fondled them while she slid her other hand down my back to squeeze my butt. I got so excited by this that I led her back to the bedroom, where we lay on our sides beside Al and explored each other’s body. Ava even worked her way down between my legs to lick and finger me to yet another strong climax.
Al watched and rubbed his cock, then pushed it into my mouth, and I sucked it until the old bugger came again.
I finally left the house, happy and content in the knowledge that I’d done a good deed. In fact I did that good deed several more times before Al died a couple of months later.
Then, almost a month before my wedding, I found out I was pregnant. I got married last week, but don’t know who the father of my baby is. But my husband thinks it’s his, so I’ll let it go at that.—J.C., Austin, Texas