PG13's Blogs

The end began with Hag Maggie. That’s what the local community seemed to call her, a quite ancient woman – the description ‘wizened crone’ would probably understate her actual age. She wandered the neighbourhood, troubling no one but sometimes seeming to have a conversation with an invisible other – not unlike younger people on their phones, except she had no phone. I started to notice her on my walks. Most people avoided her or averted her eyes, but for some reason I was not repelled. We started with eye contact and a nod, then a ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’. One day, outside my favorite coffee shop, I saw her outside looking in. On a whim I asked her if I could buy her a coffee. She said “Certainly, young man” and in we went. The baristas looked askance, but I stared them down. In any case they shut up entirely when Maggie – that was in fact her name – ordered a multi-adjective drink which might or might not have contained coffee. My double espresso seemed plain by comparison. Our conversation was quite extraordinary: not only did she know the area much better than I did, but she knew a heck of a lot about me – where I lived, when I retired, that I was widowed, that I went to concerts. I could have been spooked by all that, but it didn’t seem at all threatening. When we parted a half hour later, she gripped my arm, looked into my eye, pronounced as if it were a prophecy: “Warm hearts are rewarded.” We met for coffee for couple of times after and then one evening I saw her outside the local Korean restaurant and asked if I could buy her dinner. The patrons of the restaurant were clearly dubious but the Korean staff seemed to know her well. Once again, Maggie surprised me with her knowledge of Korean cuisine and customs. She was warm, witty and a little weird, but in a nice way. It was a little unsettling at times: she looked at me as if she could see right through my heart and soul. But it was a delightful meal, which I otherwise would have eaten alone.

Maggie knew of my terminal illness before I did, indeed before the doctors did. After one of our coffees she said: “Treasure your days here, my friend, they will not last forever”. At the time I just took it as a ‘live for today’ admonition, but a few weeks later I realized that my life would end sooner than expected – although when do we expect that?

As I weakened, I was worried about my ability to sustain myself in the apartment. Life was becoming more difficult. I went walking less, but one day I met Maggie on the street and she said “I know someone to help you; she is one of my brood”. I gave my address – she already knew it – and said that a sylph would come soon. I wasn’t sure what to make of that, as I thought a sylph was a sort of spirit.

Anyway, a day or two later, after lunch just before my nap, there was a knock on my apartment door – I hadn’t buzzed anyone in – but I answered and there was the most lovely and angelic face, framed in messy blond strands. The eyes were clear, kind and utterly piercing – just like Maggie. The face was above what I guessed was a fit body, but it was hard to tell as it was wearing many layers of clothing. She said: “Hi, I’m Sylph, Maggie sent me; I can help you.” I had no reason to trust her, but it just seemed right. I invited her in, gave her a glass of water – all that she wanted – and started to explain my needs. She raised her hand to stop me; the gesture was courteous, but commanding. She said: “I know your situation, I know your needs. You needn’t hide anything from me; I know about your gay movies and about your dildo.” My jaw dropped and I blushed and stammered. No one knew that, but somehow she did. “You are a kind man, with a warm heart; that’s all that matters. You can trust me.” I asked how would I pay her; she said if she could stay here in the other bedroom and if I would provide food, then there was no need to pay. I just nodded, baffled but with an overwhelming sense of safety and caring.

“You need your nap now, don’t you? I’ll tuck you in, and I can start work right after.” I got undressed in the bathroom, slipped into bed, and laid back when she came in. She held my hand, kissed my forehead, and whispered “Rest.” It was a lovely nap, I awoke refreshed. When I emerged, the apartment was already transformed. Things were clean and tidy; it even looked like she had started working on dinner. “We’ll walk after you have your espresso.” How did she know so much of my life and habits? Anyway, that’s what we did. It was a happy walk; she was a good companion, and it felt very nice to hold her hand in mine.

Our early days together were relaxed and easy. We had much fun cooking together, although she was a better chef than I. She seemed to know what I wanted before I did, she made life so much easier. My health and disposition improved from the reduced stress and workload. I couldn’t figure out where she got all her clothes, but every day the outfit seemed to be different. But everything was always loose fitting so I did not have any real sense of her body.

So one day, when she was busy cooking, I overcame my shyness and went to look at my gay films. I got lost in one of my favorites: a beautiful kissing, licking and sucking of a lovely penis; the expressions and noises from both the giver and the recipient were part of its power; they seemed were totally into it, oblivious of the camera; at the climax, the beneficiary’s eyes rolled backward, his mouth opened and a deep moan filled the scene; the giver was locked onto his lover’s member, you could see his throat swallowing what were obviously loads of sperm; when he separated from his lover’s groin, he showed his mouth was still full of cum, then he took a big swallow and gave the biggest stupid grin.

Suddenly I was aware of Sylph’s hands on my shoulders, massaging me gently. My shoulders stiffened, my cock softened, I blushed and made some sounds of embarrassment. But Sylph leaned down and whispered in my ear: “You like cock, don’t you?” While I was trying to burble an answer, she stood up behind me and pressed her groin against the back of my head.

But it wasn’t her groin. Or rather, it was a groin, but it wasn’t the groin of a ‘her’. I could feel an erect penis against the back of my head, moving in slow soft thrusting movements. Once again, she or he leaned down to my ear, just touching it with her/his tongue and said “Want some?” That was followed by the sound of a zipper and then the sight and smell of a rapidly growing penis lying against my shoulder.

I watched the penis grow in wonderment. What the hell was going on? Did I care? Why question the magic?

I have to slow the narrative in appreciation and awe of this member offered to me. It was not a monster cock, but it was long, very long. Chiselled like a sculpture: flared head, prominent veins. And hot! I could feel it through my shirt. And the smell! Deep musk, savoury, edible.

I swivelled my chair to face this lovely object. First I looked up at him – I conceded the ‘him’ - an impish face wreathed in smiles. Then down again, at the flared head bobbing before me. I just kissed the tip, then dry mouthed the head, holding it there, savouring the moment. And then I put to use the best techniques I had learned from gay porn and my own comparatively limited experience. I wanted to start at the base, which allowed me to place my face and mouth right into his groin. With his cock pressed against my face I licked and tasted pubic hair, mouthing as if to eat and swallow. He had been silent, but now he sighed. “You’re going to be good to me, aren’t you?” I began a slow progress up the shaft, mouthing, kissing licking and just a little sucking. I could feel him trembling slightly, his hips giving small involuntary heaves. I spent a long time on the glans, only escalating when his little whimpers became moans of need. The head was already wet with pre-cum as my mouth embraced it once again. I was loving with my tongue as I flicked his slit, then sucked at a little. His hands were on my head now, slightly insistent; he wanted in. And it was time, although I did it slowly in small strokes. I could hear his breath now; he was pretty far gone. So as I moved to deep throat him, his moans were constant. I wasn’t sure how much of him I could take, but somehow all of his length seemed to slide in – and slide in some more – and more. I seemed to have an impossible length of cock down my throat, hot and pulsating. I was swallowing like mad, and I didn’t seem to choke, somehow I was still breathing, although almost passing out from the amazing sensation. My hands wrapped around his ass – tight firm globes – and pulled him to me. Once again I felt and smelled his groin. His orgasm came without warning; his whole body started to vibrate, his cock pulsating and thrusting. Far, far down my throat I could feel sum pulsing down my throat. It was hot, like a shot of coffee. And it went on and on and on. I’ve chugged beers that made me feel less full. As he subsided, I could feel his cock contract up my throat. There was still copious cum leaking from his cock as once again it was in my mouth. O the taste and texture! Sweet, salty, smooth. I could take this as a regular drink. Finally the head popped free, and his loose length dangled and swayed before me. I also got a look at his low hanging balls: clearly large enough to produce the enormous flow they had.

In all of that, I barely noticed that I had ejaculated. The pleasure had been so complete. But my pants were wet from cum. I didn’t care.

I looked up at him again. His face was still a picture of ecstasy, head thrown back, mouth open, eyes closed. But he came into consciousness, focussed and gave a wide, not at all angelic, grin. I was still slack jawed in awe at what had just happened, so my mouth was loose and open as he bent down to kiss me, his tongue probing, seeking his seed. I gave him my saliva and he drank it.

I barely made it to bed that night, I was so spent. But one more experience. We showered together, and I had a chance to appreciate his body. It was compact and taut, all muscle and sinew. His ass was stunning, firm but not large, blending beautifully with his muscled thighs. And that dangling cock and those pendulous balls. His kiss goodnight was tender, just a little erotic at the end when he licked my face.

Despite the spectacular outcome and out cum, Sylphs’ gender reveal wasn’t an issue for either of us. He had presented himself as a woman, but with all those layers of clothing you couldn’t tell and in any case his mannerisms were feminine, and continued to be. He told me he had waited to see what kind of man I was, and to decide whether he wanted to have sex with me.

But once ‘out’, he was no longer shy when we were alone in the apartment. He loved my reactions when he wore a tight tank top and hot pants; sure his muscles were nicely outlined, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off the bulge of his beautiful junk. One day he drove me crazy with lust by wearing a red full body spandex leotard while he was cleaning the apartment.

Our sex evolved, but slowly. I was insatiable for his cock; I almost worshipped it. One day we slept together but with my face pressed against his cock and balls: hours in waking dreamland feeling his member against my face, smelling his male musk. He did enjoy taking my cock in his mouth, and seemed especially fond of swallowing my cum.

Another day, resting in a 69 position with his cock pressed against my face, he rolled over and presented his ass to my face. It hadn’t seemed right before, but it sure did now. Although I wanted the hole, I also wanted to have a full experience with his beautiful buns. I started kissing and licking them, so hard, so powerful, so nubile, so chewable. I let myself go a bit and put my teeth on one of them, a bite firm but not hard. Sylph called out, as a command, “Harder!” I gave a good bite; it would leave a mark. “Harder!!!”. I gave all my jaws could muster; I broke flesh and tasted his blood. I pulled away, worried I’d done too much. “Now the other one”. I was blown away, transported into bliss. He had given me his ass. A good reward was to love his flower, his treasure. So my mouth made its way down his crack, kissing and licking, till I found his opening. I did spend a little time teasing the edges, but my tongue wanted inside him. So basically I moved in for the duration, my head resting on one cheek, the other almost trapping me in place. That feeling of being held was augmented by his hand pressing me into him. My tongue was thrusting, pushing in my spit, sucking it back out. The tastes and smells were strong, acrid, but compelling. I had to come up for air at first, but then I found a position where I could breathe. I was lost in this union; I have no idea how long we went. Sylph was quiet at first, but after a while he began to moan, and writhe. And his hole almost became a living creature; it was pulsing and flexing and almost seemed to be sucking in my tongue. As he heated up he began to sound like a cat in heat. I realized that my beautiful Slyph wanted to be fucked.

Old and ill as I was, I was as hard as a teen. I moved to spoon with him. His hand guided me to his hole, and I began to push in. He was so very ready for it. His hole was still pulsing, almost seeming to suck me in. I just glided all the way in, waves of pleasure radiating through my body. As my groin pressed against his hard buns, Sylph grunted and heaved, then cried out. He was cumming right then: hips heaving, cock spurting and ass pulsing. I came instantly myself, and practically passed out in bliss.

Both of us were well spent, but the passion of the moment still lingered. I spooned hard against him, as I didn’t want to lose the sensation of one-ness, and of possession. But after a while his muscled contracted in a way that pushed out my flaccid cock. There was a slight ‘phht’. We giggled. That was the start of the next adventure. In a gentle but commanding tone, he softly spoke: “Bring your cum to me; I want to taste it”. I knew what he wanted. And I wanted it too. Spent and weak as I was, it was easy to scoot down the bed and bury my mouth and tongue in his treasure. I didn’t need to excavate; he had such control of the muscles of his love tunnel that he pumped my sperm back into my mouth.

When he was done, he pulled me by the hair up to his mouth – not that I resisted – opening wide. I was surprised by the amount of cum I produced, but joyful to share it with him. We both swirled and swallowed. And then he was hard again! And I knew his destination.

Though I did want to be taken by him doggy style – hard, fast and sweaty – I needed to watch his face as he took me for the first time. He moved my ass to the edge to the bed, so that he could enter me standing up. Looking at his cock – he’d told me it was just under nine inches – I had no idea how I could fit him in. I had enjoyed largish dildoes before, but nothing close to that length. But I was sure going to try.

My sylph was a master cocksman. First he got me to beg for it. I was already close to that, just watching him get into position. But then he teased me, the head just flexing my opening. If I tried to push against him, he moved away. I could moan “please, please” all I wanted but this was his show and he was the master. Finally he popped my cherry, which was open and flexing in anticipation. My eyes were wide in wonder; his face was serene. His cock moved so very slowly inside me. The pleasure was so intense I had to control my greed for more. But I could not stop my body from trembling. Finally I felt his pressing against a turn of me inside, just to the point of pain. But I could see he was far from all the way in. The master had a plan. For a while he just waited. Once again he was waiting for me to beg, not just in words but with my whole body. I could feel the waves of lust and need rising in me, both a physical need and an emotional one, a need to be utterly and completely and totally possessed. What broke the dam was the look in his face, a warm and gentle so very confident smile. It was like the first time a cock popped my virgin cherry, suddenly something inside gave way. As his cock moved, I was utterly overwhelmed. I may have passed out in the wave of intense pleasure. When I regained my bearings, his cock was all the way in, his groin pressed against me. The feel of his pubes against me, the pressure of his groin, the powerful penetration of his penis.

There was a living thing inside me, and it was his cock. It was probably just the heat of the moment, but I swear I could feel the heat of his love muscle and its pulsing inside me, though his body was still.  I could actually feel his hardness in my innards.  I don’t know how long we stayed in that position; I didn’t want it to end, until I did. I felt a fresh wave of lust wash through my body; wanted to be fucked. But instead, he began a slow withdrawal from my insides. I whimpered, not in pain, but in the enormous sense of loss, of emptiness. My eyes were leading, and he responded: “Let’s lie together”. So at first, almost effortlessly he moved me across the bed so that he could lie within my legs. He re-entered me on his knees, upright, my ass held in presentation before him. It was a triumphal re-entry, not fast but firm. My new position allowed a little more of his cock inside, which caused another whimper, and another response: “You”ll be fine.”

Any penetration pain I felt was overwhelmed by love and lust as he shifted position and moved to lie against me, our stomachs and chests touching, his angelic face beaming a smile of great care. At first he kissed me very softly, gentle, on the lips, then on my forehead, my eyelids, my nose. My lips opened as he licked them, and then his tongue began an invasion of my mouth: relentlessly exploring: my tongue, gums, cheeks. I felt that I was being taken again, and another swell of lust washed through me.  I nearly ejaculated when he pushed a copious load of spit into my mouth – eagerly gobbled. His tongue left my mouth and began to explore my face; I became wet with his spit. The apex of that phase was when his mouth sucked in my nose, the tongue excavating my snot.

I was so lost in lust that at first I didn’t realize that my body was responding in its own way by thrusting against his cock. I was not being a power bottom; I had no conscious control over my body which was so clearly saying “I want to be fucked”. So that was the invitation for him to take me. Once again, he made me want him, crazed with desire. He started to pull out again, most of the way, once again prompting pleading whines from me. His face was still beautiful, but no with a harness and resolve. This time the entry thrust was harder and farther. My whole body convulsed, I gave a little scream. He deep thrusted me for a while; I went to higher and higher planes of ecstasy, my whole body an instrument of his domination. Once again he came close, kissing me, licking me. I wrapped my hands around the tight globes of his ass; I did not want to cock to leave – ever. We moved toward climax so very gently. The gentle undulations of his ass as he moved against me creating a swelling rapture. Suddenly I found myself thrust back against him. We moved harder and faster. It was my orgasm which started his. I hardly noticed it specifically, as I was lost in lust. But I did notice a slippery wetness between us.

His orgasm was a separate study. His thrusts slowed down, and then he started vibrating: not just his penis, though it started there. It wasn’t like a fit or a convulsion; it was an undulating rhythm involving every muscle and joint in his body. But O his face! There was pleasure there, and joy, but the most enchanting thing was its spirituality: his eyes were focussed to be sure, but they were focussed on infinity. Little cries and moans filled the air, almost like he was speaking. Saliva drooled from his mouth, snot from his nose. I was catching what I could, seeking the essences from his mouth and his balls. Suddenly he gave two sharp thrusts, causing me to yelp, and then collapsed on top of me, licking my face seeking my snot, cramming his tongue into my mouth. He was heaving for breath on top of me. I was a limp rag, but felt very, very filled and fulfilled.

Withdrawal was ceremoniously slow. The sylph was leaning my body. Just before his head was going to pop out, he told me to hold it in. I knew he meant his cum, was pretty sure he had ideas. I almost passed out from the emptiness of my body once he was gone. I was actually whimpering. He licked my face once more, said: “More to come”, where come was understood as cum. Quickly he rolled me over, spread my cheeks and dove in with a tongue that was part excavator, part vacuum. I thought I was spent, but I could feel my hardness returning.

Rolled back over, he lies between my open legs, his torso against mine, and he brings his mouth to me, my lips open, as do his, and then my mouth is full of cum. I must swallow, but more cum comes. How is it possible that one person can produce so much semen? Nicely filled, absolutely sated, exhausted to the edge of consciousness. I have no further memories as I sailed off into a sea of bliss.

Later in the night, I heard him crying softly. As I moved to comfort him, I heard him say “I don’t want to lose you”. I responded: “I’m here, I’m staying” but thought no more about it as we drifted off again.

I realized soon after that his words meant that I was now near death. For I now feel the end coming quickly. Thanks mostly to the sylph, I lived longer and stronger than the diagnosis. But terminal is terminal.

So I managed to get this down, but now I must depart. But a final thought. Last night – leaving for the hospice the next day – I awoke to hear the voice of the hag, chanting what I guess was a spell. But only the sylph and I were here. So does that mean … ?