Revelations of an old fucker

Epigraph — Einstein said — a man can create as long as he can love, and after that he can only teach. . . This story will not contain mind-blowing fucking scenes; here will be the memories of an 85-year-old honored veteran of the sexual front. Another wise saying from a philosopher, whose name I forgot, dementia — The lives of old people proceed differently in two different groups: in the first group, old people live for themselves, calmly and contentedly, they can no longer do anything and don't want to; the second group, they also can no longer do anything, but they want to, and this contradiction does not allow them to live peacefully. . I belong to the second group, I can no longer, but I constantly

want to. I want to FUCK women, I want to spread their legs, lick their pussy and ass, and fuck them so hard that they squeal with pleasure. But God doesn't give horns to a butting cow; an 18-centimeter dick, 6 cm thick, has turned into a string bean, which I can only see in the mirror because of my thick belly. . And how well it all began. I grew up as a lively, precocious boy, with my parents and younger sister. My parents were interesting people in their general attitude toward life, including sex. For them, sex was not something intimate and shameful, but an expression of the need for bodily pleasure. And this belief, combined with their heightened sexuality, affected both their behavior and the upbringing of me and my sister. They practically made no effort to hide their sexual life from us, especially since we lived in one room, a large one, but still one room, in a communal apartment. A screen hid little, and there was something to hide, given their temperament. And my mother was very beautiful; her figure wasn't model-like, but very sexy, with a barely noticeable plumpness, breasts probably a size 4 or maybe even larger, a preserved waist that emphasized her lush ass, and curvy hips. So it's understandable that my father's dick was always hard for her, and not just his. And there was something to be hard about, thanks to my parents, and I inherited such a thing, and not just the dick, but the temperament too. Living under such conditions, my sister's and my sexuality manifested early. We studied our bodies early; she showed me her little pussy, I showed her my little dick, we masturbated together, I licked her, and she sucked me. Until my mother noticed our games and asked me not to do it anymore, saying things could go too far, and it wouldn't take long to get pregnant. I started objecting, saying I already