I’m a 75 year old retired widower living in a retirement village and having the time of my life with friends (especially with some of the women). What goes on is not what you would expect your grandfather or grandmother to get up to. Here are [previous stories](https://www.reddit.com/user/rayvoit/posts/) if you want, but they aren’t really necessary to read.
I haven’t written anything for a long time. Just haven’t felt like it.
Last year we were stuck in the retirement village for months because of COVID-19. Basically we didn’t leave the village. Our shopping was done for us. They asked that we don’t have family or friends visit. All because the village is full of elderly. We have even been asked to keep our social interaction to outside and practicing “social distancing”. No new news there for anyone.
I haven’t written anything for a long time. Just haven’t felt like it.
Last year we were stuck in the retirement village for months because of COVID-19. Basically we didn’t leave the village. Our shopping was done for us. They asked that we don’t have family or friends visit. All because the village is full of elderly. We have even been asked to keep our social interaction to outside and practicing “social distancing”. No new news there for anyone.
To try and give us something to do and occupy our time, the management at the retirement village organised a few large rubbish skips and said we should all do a “Spring Clean” of our units; in autumn. They said we should throw anything out that we hadn’t been using or wasn’t of any sentimental value.
I was talking to my neighbour Di. She also lives alone in her unit and is somewhere in her late 70’s. She’s got the obligatory white hair and carrying a few extra pounds that make her somewhat cuddly. We have a “friends with benefits” relationship that has been ongoing for around two years. If you want to read more about us, check out my previous posts.
We got onto the “Spring Clean”. I was saying how I had a bit of a ruthless cull of junk in my spare room. There had been things I had never used since I moved into the village. Cooking things, especially appliances (like the yogurt maker I had never used since someone gave it to me), all got thrown out.
Di said she had nothing to throw out. She used it all or it meant something to her.
“There must be something?” I followed up.
“No. Nothing.” She answered.
“Really? Nothing at all?” I responded.
“Nothing. Come in and have a look.” she said.
We went into her unit and I headed for her second bedroom. I hadn’t been in there before, but had seen in through door and knew there was a treasure trove of “stuff” in there. And stuff there was. Sewing, cross stitching and tapestries. Many still not started. I had never seen Di do any of these crafts. Later she told me her eyes get tired quickly if she tries and has given up.
With a little encouragement I started to pick up things and asked her if she was ever going to use it.
“Keep.” was the answer to everything. I had nearly given up.
Looking up on top if the book case I saw a box like I hadn’t seen in many, many years. I used to have one. Don’t know what happened to mine, but Di also had one. It was a distinctive dull orange/brown box, a typical colour from the 70s. On its side was what it was, “[Pifco Vibratory Massager](https://imgur.com/a/SJxagby)”. This was a popular vibrator from the 70’s that was sold to be used on sore muscles. I imagine they did a lot more than that all throughout the 70s. They were available at department stores and places where you would buy electrical appliances.
I pulled it down and opened it. It was like new inside. Memories flooded back of mine and the fun I had with it with my late wife…
“What’s this then?” I asked Di.
“We brought that for my back when I hurt it.” She answered. “I hurt it at work when I went to sit down and someone thought it would be fun to pull the chair out from under me. I hit the floor hard on my bottom.”
Apparently she took about a week off work after that little practical joke went bad. The doctor recommended the vibrator for her. And the little hoarder Di has kept it ever since.
“We’ll have to play with this if it still works.” I said.
I removed it from the box and plugged it in. It still worked. The on/off button worked and the intensity knob also worked perfectly. It’s funny how sounds can bring back flooding memories.
I had a plan…
I asked if she would like to come over tonight after dinner and bring along her Pifco box of tricks. We should massage each other. She said that sounded nice. She sounded so innocent.
After I’d had dinner I heard the knock on my back door. Di had come along with her new (old) toy. As we had these regular nightly FWB evenings, she came dressed for the part. That is she was in her dressing gown and slippers and noting else. I was similarly attired.
After some light chit-chat it came time to break out the Pifco. It has some horrendous looking attachments for your scalp, but one is a very basic flat plastic cap. This one we agreed was what we would use.
Di was to be first to receive some of the Pifco magic. She sat on a dining room chair and lowered her dressing gown off her shoulders. I started it up on a light vibration and let it run across her shoulders and upper back.
“Nice.” Followed by a sigh was her response.
“Lower?” I asked.
“Please.” she said as she pulled her dressing down and let it drop down between the chair and her lower back her as she lent forward to rest against the table. Her large boobs were hanging off the edge of the table. Different seeing them from this angle; how white and smooth they are from underneath.
I moved the vibrator around her back. Up to her shoulders and down to her lower back. She just said “Nice.” again. I kept this up for I guess around 5 minutes. She was just so relaxed with her arms crossed on the table with her head lying in her arms.
Her boobs were just too inviting. I had to help myself to them with my spare hand. She didn’t move, just said “Cheeky.”.
Her dressing gown was bunched up down over her very lower back and I couldn’t the vibrator down any lower, so I asked her if she wanted to move so I could. She said “Yes” and stood up. All she was wearing now were her slippers. I led her by her hand to my bedroom where she lay down on my bed face down for more vibrator pleasure. Her legs were closed together.
I sat on the bed beside her and started again on her lower back. There were no intentions to go back up to her shoulders, but to work down even lower. Working from the small of her back I gradually progressed across her bum and hips and started on her outer thighs. No complaints. As I was swapping thighs, each time I got more to the back of them, and finally was at the point where I had the vibrator running up and down the inner-back length of her thighs that were still together.
I asked her how it felt. All I got was “Good.”
“Can you spread you legs a little.” I asked.
Di didn’t just spread them a little, she spread them wide. Wide enough that I could easily get the Pifco right onto her pussy.
Di breathed out with a big “OOOOOOOOoooooooooo.” and a “Don’t stop.” followed.
I had no plans on stopping. There was no thigh massing any more. Just pussy massage. Gently round and round; up and down.
“Good?” I asked.
“Yeeeeaaaahhh.” was Di’s exhaled answer which was somewhat muffled as she was face down into the pillow. Her hips were rocking. She was very much enjoying this. She continued rocking; I kept on with the vibrator.
After quite some time I wanted to change things around a little; just so I would get a better look at Di’s body so I slowly pulled the vibrator away and turned it off. I asked her to“Roll over please.” It took her a while to come back to reality enough to work out what I had said. I actually said it a second time. Eventually she did and lay on her back with her head on the pillow with her legs straight and together.
“That was wonderful. Thank-you.” she said.
“We haven’t stopped, there’s still plenty to do.” I answered. “Here. You take it.” as I handed her the vibrator.
“Me?” she asked.
“Yes.” as I handed it to her.
She look at it. I could see she was hesitant. I touched the on-off button telling her to press it to start, and pointed to the square knob on the back saying this was for how hard it vibrated.
With a press she started it up again. Then she rotated the intensity knob. First down to the minimum where you could barely hear or feel it, then right up to maximum (very briefly) and turned it back down fairly low. Maximum is very loud and I’m not sure you would really want that pressed anywhere on your body. Maybe on the back of a thigh when your trying to massage out some muscle stiffness.
Tentatively she placed it onto her pubic triangle and slowly started to move it around. As her confidence grew she then had a play with the intensity until she found a setting that she liked.
While she was doing this I was sitting on the side of the bed down near the foot with my dressing gown open and my now hard member out on display. Di wasn’t looking, she was doing her own exploring. It wasn’t long before she lifted up her knees and spread her legs for better access. From where I was sitting it was a great view. I was watching her slowly doing little circles with the vibrator over and around her clit. Her eyes were closed. She didn’t need any of my help so I sat quietly and watched and stroked myself.
I noticed that the sound of the vibrator was changing. Di was slowly turning it up. Her movements had also changed. Instead of the circular pattern she had changed to an up and down stroking. Her hips were again starting to rock and I could see and hear her breathing getting deeper too.
She started to make sounds. Not screaming like in every contrived porn movie, but a deeper “EEEERRRR” on her outgoing breaths. She was really getting into “The Zone”. Again she increased the intensity. (No, it was no near the maximum, that would have rattled her fillings loose.)
By now the gap between her knees was opening and closing in time with the strokes of the Pifco. She was going somewhere, but I wasn’t sure if she was going to go all the way there. I don’t know if she knew where she was heading.
A short time later I was sure we both knew where she was going. Her knees were now pressed together as she worked the vibrator on herself. There was no need to increase its intensity, things were falling into place for her. She was heading there. It was only a matter of time.
She stopped moving the vibrator and held it still on her clit. Her knees dropped and her legs straightened flat on the bed. Breathing was shallow, just small gasps. Her body was rigid. She was hardly moving. Her back arched, her mouth was clenched, her eyes were very tightly closed. Breathing stopped…
I was starting to get worried. What if she was having a heart attack? How would I explain that? What do I do? How long do I wait before I call the ambulance? Is she alright? The questions were mounting. Was I going to be the last person she was with? What do I tell her children?
Then she started to breathe out one long restricted breath with a little primal groan. Her body relaxed and she moved the vibrator away from herself, turned it off and lay it beside her still in her hand. Her head rolled to the side and she started breathing, although sounding a little short of breath.
I relaxed. She had cum, not gone. The feeling of adrenaline was overwhelming me. I had been so worried. As I calmed down I still had the needed to check her. I held her hand, lifted it a little and gave it two gentle squeezes. She gave two back. Oh the relief that surged over me.
Eventually her eyes opened. She looked at me and gently shook her head and said “Wow.”. Followed by another “Wow.”. And another.
“Don’t move.” I said to her. “Relax.”
As she lay there I noticed that she was still wearing her slippers. Strange how you notice these sort of things and they stay in your memory.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/mzgp83/fun_in_retirement_di_found_a_vibrator_mf
Lucky old guy for sure