The Singing Of The Cicadas III free porn video

Old man Eric was sitting in his favorite rocking chair on the patio of his deceased brother's holiday mansion. It was after lunchtime, but since he had slept in that day, keeping everyone – his granddaughter and her husband, mainly – worried whether they should check on him, he renounced to his daily nap. This way, he could, for once, read the newspaper without being bothered by his great-grandchildren who were a very lively handful. As much as he loved playing with them, he enjoyed the quiet and his lecture just as much from time to time.

The cicadas were chirping as it was a typically hot summer day in Provence which made Eric unable to concentrate on the latest local news. He folded the paper, contemplated the garden in which the olive trees were in full blossom, promising a rich harvest that year – a harvest great enough to give a few bottles of the oil he and his brother Christian had been so proud of. This and quite a few jars of pickled olives. It looked as though the trees would yield even more than in the year Christian fell from the ladder and broke his neck.

Eric sighed when he remembered the tragedy. He and his son had just returned home from his vacation with Christian and his family a few days prior when he received the phone call from his brother's wife who was hardly comprehensible between her sobs when she told him what had happened.

He booked a last-minute flight back to Marseille airport the next day and helped Andrea arrange the funeral which was held at the cemetery of Aubagne on a cloudy day. Both Eric's and Christian's family had joined, Eric's granddaughter pregnant with her first child. The mansion was big enough to host everyone.

During the procession as well as after, Eric and Andrea hardly exchanged words. They only hugged briefly, knowing too much verbal or physical contact would add decades of repressed desire for each other on top of the mourning. In consequence, with a heart not only grieved by loss but more even by unfulfilled love and guilt, Eric returned home, regretting not having been able to comfort Andrea out of cowardice and cursing himself for his acts over thirty-five years prior.

Eric was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was still looking at the olive trees, holding the newspaper in his hands. Without him noticing in his mental absence, the Mistral had blown away the sheets he had put on his lap after reading them.

“Here's your newspaper, Eric,” his grandson-in-law said with his pronounced French accent when he handed him an unorderly pile of paper. With a hint of concern in his voice, he added, “You okay? You were staring into blank space for some good ten minutes. For a moment there, I was afraid you had fallen unconscious.”

“Just remembered Christian's funeral, is all. Don't worry. I'm alright.” Eric paused and sighed heavily, his gaze still on the olive trees. He resumed speaking, “Looks like we're gonna have quite a yield this year. I'm afraid I'm getting too old to climb the ladder, though. Wanna give me a hand like last year?”

They were discussing harvest plans when Eric's three great-grandchildren came out running towards them to ask them to play with them.

“Venez avec nous! Come with us,” the eldest – the eight-year-old – demanded. “On joue à cache-cache. We're playing hide 'n' seek.”

Eric chuckled his soft great-grandfather laughter and said, “Mon thé, les enfants. I have to drink my tea while it's hot. Mais votre père...” he pointed at their father. “...he is free to play with you.”

Cheering and laughing, the kids skipped through the garden with their dad walking behind them.

Eric looked at them while taking a sip of his tea. Before he had swallowed the scorching hot liquid, his mind had already raced back to the escapades he and his sister-in-law had indulged in the first time he had followed his brother's invite to the mansion.

*

Forty-two years earlier:

Eric awoke by the smell of bacon. Still somnolent, he checked his watch to realize it was past eleven. He tried to get up but felt his heartbeat pulsate in his head which was heavy from too much sleep. His thoughts were still cloudy from the intense dreams he had been haunted by that night. They had not been nightmares, yet they had been vivid and realistic enough to make him question the very fabric of reality for a brief instant.

He paced downstairs to find an almost prepared brunch. Andrea was standing in the kitchen, frying thick slices of freshly cut bacon. She turned around to greet her guest.

“Can I ask you to take the apricot juice from the fridge? Got it from the market this morning,” Andrea explained.

“You've already been to the market?” inquired Eric with a slightly irritated tone. “When did you get up?”

“I've been awake since half-past five. Couldn't sleep so I read lying in bed until I felt it was no use. I got up at around seven. That's plenty of time to go to the market. Where do you think I got the croissants from, dummy,” she chaffed him, smiling and pointing at the table where, indeed, there were a few samples of typical French puff pastry.

The croissants were still warm and the fig jam from the mansion's garden paired well with their heavy butter taste. The coffee from the moka pot completed the brunch and the pains au chocolat gave the perfect dessert, so to say.

Eric, after having regaled on the copious meal, rubbed his belly and tried to issue a few words, “Woah, you're really gonna stuff me during this vacation, Andrea. I'm so full I could just roll back to bed and take another nap – or better: another few hours of sleep.”

“Not so fast, buster! You're gonna at least help me do the dishes,” Andrea shot back, happy to see her brother-in-law satisfied with her efforts to serve a decent brunch.

Eric reluctantly agreed. Not that he hadn't been willing to do his share of the work, yet he was anxious to engage in a discussion about the events of the past days. In his mind, he was insisting to do it alone and have Andrea sit down in the adjacent living room to avoid any conversation. Still, his manners forbade him to drive her away on some flimsy pretext.

This inner struggle added to his emotional turmoil, loosened his tongue in a most unfavorable manner before he realized what he was saying: “About yesterday and uh...”

He stopped halfway to the sink with two dirty plates in his hands, looked at Andrea, and – avoiding her gaze once she looked back at him – sighed, “Well, shit. That's just what I was trying to prevent. To... uh... hint at this, you know, elephant in the room. I'm just gonna do the dishes and leave you alone if you want. What the hell? Look at me going like an idiot. And I was the one who said we were adults who are perfectly capable of dealing with such things.”

Andrea stepped to him and reached out to pat his shoulder. Her tone was awkward, uncomfortable even: “Don't say this, Eric. I'm glad you mentioned it. We really need to talk about it and I sure as hell wouldn't have had the courage to take the initiative. So, uh, thank you, I guess.”

Eric stepped to the sink, put the dishes he was carrying in it, and opened the hot water tap. While he waited for the water to get warm, he felt Andrea's presence right behind him. He chose to act as if he hadn't noticed and reached for the detergent. First, he felt her arms wrapping around his belly and then her body gently pressing against his back. He put the detergent bottle on the counter and turned around to return the warm embrace.

Their hands slowly ran over each other's backs as they held each other close and exchanged heavy sighs that spoke volumes about forbidden love. Eric felt her desire for him through her breath that tickled his neck. He fought the urge to bite into the flesh of hers and hoped – while unwilling to let go of her himself – she would break their affectionate embrace before she could feel his rising erection pushing into her belly.

When they finally parted, they looked each other in the eyes. Like he saw her doing, Eric tried to move his lips which, alas, wouldn't make a sound. Hesitantly, their faces approached until he felt her breath blow over his face. They halted, faltered for a brief instant, and finally exchanged a first, shy, almost impalpable kiss. It was soon followed by a second, more daring one and a third and last slow and hungry one.

“We shouldn't be doing this,” Andrea whispered, her tone abashed when they broke contact. Her cheeks were blushed and she was avoiding Eric's glance.

He nibbled on his bottom lip for a moment before he replied, “You're right. Just sit down in the living room and let me finish this first.”

Eric sighed when he watched Andrea walk out of the kitchen. Before being out of his sight, she turned around and smiled. He gave away what part of her he had been ogling when he, caught red-handed, quickly let his eyes travel to the floor as if trying to act innocent. She giggled at his coy, apologetic look when his eyes fell on hers again.

“Don't make me wait,” she whispered and blew him a kiss, winking.

Once she was out of sight, Eric shook his head and clicked his tongue, irritated by his own behavior. Lost in his thoughts, he forgot that he had left the hot water running. He scalded his fingertips when wetting the sponge and a course slipped over his lips.

“You alright?” he heard Andrea ask from the living room.

“Yeah,” he snuffled lowly, and added more loudly, “I'm fine. Just forgot how hot the water came out of these pipes!”

He didn't hear her answer and figured she believed him. While his hands were working on the dishes, his head had a plan of its own. His mind revolved around the words he had in vain tried to prepare, struggling to fall asleep the night before. His feelings were torn between giving in to his lust for his sister-in-law and the damage it would cause to his brother's family.

He was about to make up his mind, stand up to against his deepest craving and rip out his own heart for the well-being of his kin as he heard the first notes of Funkadelic's Standing on the Verge of Getting it on – the album he had lost his virginity to all these years ago. Unsure of how Andrea knew it was his all-time favorite record and bore a cherished memory of his, he tried to focus on washing the last few spoons. Had Annie, his ex-wife, told her when they were still married? Or was it just an insignificant coincidence? Whatever it was, it threw Eric right back into his dilemma.

Eddie Hazel's, Bernie Vorell's and Calvin Simon's suave voices were singing the first lines of I'll Stay when Eric entered the living room where Andrea was waiting for him, sitting on the couch. She had her legs bent to the side of her body and her skirt had slid high enough to grant Eric a generous view of her thighs. He swallowed hard and awkwardly as he hesitantly sat next to her like a Sunday schoolboy, his legs glued together, his hands on his lap, his eyes fixed to the record player where the black twelve-inch was spinning.

She slowly approached him and put her hand on his cheek, making him turn his head. Reluctantly, he allowed her eyes to catch his. Her face was already close enough for him not to be able to focus on it anymore. She moved even closer until their noses touched. They started to gently and slowly rub the tips of their noses over each other's faces, roaming, searching, caressing. Suddenly, when they felt their lips were just about to touch, they halted. Slowly, they parted, their eyes seeking for something to hold on to until they could see each other's faces clearly again.

“You wanted to talk?” inquired Andrea, her voice breaking.

“Yeah, uh, there's some-” Eric began, his voice unsteady as well. He cleared his throat and, with a decisive timbre in his voice, he mustered the courage to rattle off his prepared discourse, “Look, Andrea, we can't keep doing this. I mean it. Really. You're my brother's wife and as much as I want to sate my almost irresistible desire for you, I don't want to risk your family, my relation to my brother, or to you, or the relation between our kids.”

While he was talking, Andrea's facial expression turned more and more ashamed until she wasn't able to keep her eyes on his anymore. She shrugged as if trying to bury her face between her shoulders and bit her bottom lip. An almost inaudible 'I know' crept over her lips. She nodded slowly, trying to show her unwilling approval.

Eric went on, rather mechanically reciting his text, “Andrea, really, we must understand what is at stake here – both of us. And, you know, I... I... don't mind... like...” He hesitated with the corners of his mouth twitching, but then went on, “I don't mind backing off a bit. I mean, the flirting is great and all, but it's not worth it, you know. Besides – I know I shouldn't be saying that – I kinda got used to the idea of not being able to... you know... uh... like... get you? You know what I-”

She cut him off, “What do you mean? Eric, what are you saying?”

He pressed his lips together and sighed heavily, “I shouldn't have said that. Please forget I said that.”

Andrea moved closer to him again and took his face in both her hands. Her eyes were glistening with tears. Eric read anxiety and dreadful anticipation.

When she insisted, her voice was filled with fear of the truth as she pressed on, “Please, Eric. I'm not able to make head or tail from what you're saying. Please let me hear it.”

He swallowed audibly and pressed his eyes shut.

He nervously nibbled on his lips, shook his head in a vain attempt to have her backing down, but finally gave in anyway. “Andrea, after our little argument in the swimming pool two days ago, I think you should know the truth. I owe you this, I guess. Truth is, I played hard to get and tried to avoid the topic of my love life on purpose. The real reason why is simply because I–”

To Andrea's displeasure, his voice failed. Eric read anxiety of his final words all over her face. She was afraid of hearing his full confession. Still, she pressed on and urged him to issue the words that would change their relationship forever.

“I love you, Andrea,” and the L-bomb had been dropped.

Andrea covered her mouth with her hands and her eyes widened in shock. Eric's lips trembled. He tried to reach out to take her wrists but failed to muster the strength.

With a shaking voice, Andrea tried to form her words, “Please, tell me... tell me this isn't–” Her voice got stuck in her throat and a first outburst of sorrow left her throat when she covered her tear-filled eyes and yelled, “That's so unfair! Why? Why? Why?”

Eric looked at her, genuine concern in his eyes as she thrashed about with her arms as if they were searching for their target. When she found his torso, she bumped her fists against it until she collapsed into his arms when she fell into uncontrollable crying.

“Why, Eric? That's so unfair,” she sobbed, her eyes reddened and her cheeks flushed. “I was hoping you'd be the reasonable one. I was too weak to reject you but... That's so unfair! To Christian. To the kids.”

He held her close and snuggled his nose into her hair, whispering soothing words.

Only after a while of irregular sniffs from her, he realized the stereo was playing the periodic white noise of the needle on the idling circle of the record's side A. He decided to leave it be as he felt white noise was still better than uncomfortable silence.

Him too close to his tears, Eric said, “I know I shouldn't have said that, Andrea, but you deserve me to be honest with you. It's not what you wanted to hear but at least, now you know.”

Andrea tried to contain her grief and breathed deeply a few times before replying, “So let me be honest with you too, Eric. How shall I put it. I've... uh... I've had a thing for you for a while now too. I'm not sure if I was just seeking compensation for my lack of sex. It was a genuine little crush, I guess. All I know for sure is that now that I'm spending some more intimate time with you–” she paused, struggling against a renewed surge of tears. Her voice cracked when she uttered the first few words when she resumed, “I'm falling for you – and I'm falling hard, Eric.”

Her eyes were glistening when she looked at him. Blinking liberated small silvery drops that traced the same path as the ones before down to her chin. She let her gaze trail off to the wall and she sniffed again on the verge of another wave of uncontrolled sobbing.

Before she started crying anew, Eric took her chin and turned her head towards him again. Taken by surprise, she didn't struggle and let him plant a soft kiss onto her lips. The kiss lingered. She closed her eyes. She gave in to her most acute urge. All from alone, her arms wrapped around his neck and he felt her pulling him closer.

When they parted, he read desire in her eyes, ardor even, yet still, some regret as well. Nervously, they took their hands off each other and sat upright side by side like a teenage couple nervous to share their first experience.

“Andrea–” he started, but she cut him short, “Eric, I know what you... Please, we should forget... Ugh...” She rubbed the root of her nose between her thumb and index before she continued, “We can't do this, Eric. I'm sorry, but we simply can't.”

“I was afraid you were gonna say that,” Eric answered. “It's just, we know of our feelings for each other and we still have a little over a week ahead of us. Let's be honest. Will we be able to keep our hands from each other? I, for my part, know that I'll have a really hard time doing that.”

Andrea nibbled on her bottom lip. Her voice bore a distinct tone of shame when she talked, “You're right. We've already fooled around with each other enough to know where this is headed.”

She used the bottom seam of her top to wipe the remaining tears from her eyes. She snuffled and looked at Eric again, waiting for his reply.

With a low voice as if to prevent anyone from eavesdropping, he said, “Andrea, it's just the two of us. What happens here remains here just between you and me.”

She nodded wordlessly, staring blankly on the floor as if weighing out the possibilities and the risks.

“I, uh, have a suggestion, Andrea,” Eric began after a while. He frowned, waited for her to look at him again and cleared his throat. “How about we retire to our rooms, make up our minds, and meet at the pool in, say, about an hour. Day's splendid. You said yourself you liked the singing of the cicadas.”

She nodded, her eyes glued back to the floor.

*

“Grampa, we're leaving,” Eric heard his granddaughter say.

“Where are you going? And who's 'we'?” he replied, slightly enervated from having been disturbed in his daydreaming.

Her words were carrying a pissed undertone: “Jacques and I are going out? You agreed to watch the kids, remember? Do you ever listen, Grampa?”

Confused and his mind not able to focus on the subject, he looked at her until she added, “We'll be back in about three hours. A little romantic getaway. Just the two of us. The kids are taking their naps but they'll come down anytime. You know where the board games are should they be too much of a handful.”

After wishing his granddaughter a great afternoon, Eric refilled his teacup. He sighed when he realized the tea had turned cold and contemplated dipping into the pool. He decided he was too lazy and chose to listen to the restless chirring of the cicadas instead and allowing it to throw him back to his memories.

*

An hour later, Andrea and Eric met again at the patio door, dressed in their swimwear. Slightly insecure, Andrea slid a strand of hair behind her ear before she took Eric's hand, and shyly smiled at him. He too slightly lifted the corners of his mouth as he looked into her eyes. They slowly approached and exchanged a single subtle, yet hungry kiss. He saw her eyes glisten with fiery craving when she looked back at him.

Not daring to ask the question, Eric looked for the answer in her eyes. She understood and nodded slightly. He smiled shyly in response. She gently tugged at his hand, slid the patio door open and led him outside. Holding hands, they walked to the pool as if in a haze of their desire for each other.

At the stairs that led into the water, Andrea turned around and waded down the steps backwards. Eric followed her, still letting her lead him by the hand. Once in the water, Eric lifted her arm and made her do a slow pirouette and – like a dancer – caught her as her body fell, slowed and lightened by the water.

She giggled with a slightly girlish undertone has he held her close. He helped her back on her feet. As soon as she had found her balance again, she wrapped her arms around his nape and planted a peck on his lips.

“Do you hear this?” she asked.

Only at this moment, Eric realized the garden was absolutely quiet as if the cicadas were themselves busy with their own courtship behavior.

“The cicadas... They went completely silent,” he replied in his amazement.

He had hardly spoken his words as Andrea kissed him on his lips and pressed her body to his. The feeling of her breasts against his chest made him gasp. His hands found her hips and with slight pressure on the small of her back, he pushed her pelvis against his growing erection. Their lips parted and their tongues started exploring each other.

Long forgotten and suppressed sensations transformed Eric's cock into solid steel ready to explode. Andrea broke the kiss and freed herself from Eric's hold by pushing him towards the stairs of the pool. He let himself fall down on the more shallow steps, grabbed one of her wrists and used the weight of his falling body to pull her onto him. She gave a surprised shriek but willingly followed and landed on his chest. She kissed him and moved her body to his right side.

Her hand found the waistband of his swimming trunks and slowly, she let the tip of her middle finger disappear into them. She teased him by slowly running her hand under the waistband from side to side, up and down, making sure more fingertips and finally, her hand slid under the fabric. She purposely missed his manhood that was begging for attention and came to land on the very top of his thigh.

He moaned as her hand slowly inched to his erection. She moaned in response as his right hand slowly traced the outlines of her crotch through the fabric of her bikini bottoms. With each caress, he applied slightly more pressure to her soft folds he felt under the polyamide.

She removed her hand from his trunks to untie the knot and the Velcro fly to free his cock from its confinement. She gasped as her eyes fell on the swollen member and threw a wanton look at him before she sat on his lap in a reversed cowgirl position and started sliding his naked shaft up and down and pressing it into her still covered crotch.

She turned her head so he could kiss her while his hands roamed her belly, one was slowly inching its way down towards her pussy and the other up to her breasts. Her hips squirmed when his fingers circled her clit through the fabric of her skimpy garment. She moaned into his mouth and kept rubbing her pubic area against his swollen member.

Eric moved the crotch of her panties aside to let her slippery labia hug his cock. Slowly, she bucked her hips back and forth while kissing him again and every time his head brushed her nub, she broke their kiss to issue gasps and hisses which testified of her lust for him. With his other hand, he slid her bikini top off her breasts, softly kneaded them and gently pinched her nipples by turns, causing her body to thrash even more.

With every renewed slow thrust of her pelvis, Eric felt his purple mushroom brush closer and closer to her dripping cave until it got stuck at the entrance. Both of them halted their movements. Andrea turned her head again to find his nod of approval.

Before she allowed him to slide in, she looked at him questioningly two which he commented, “I got a vasectomy.”

That was all it took her to let him penetrate her. His cock slid in with ease. As soon as he sensed her velvety cave clench around his shaft, years of pent-up desire ran through Eric's body. Only with great effort, he managed not to take Andrea forcefully to relieve his pressure. Desperately, he wanted to ejaculate into her womb and thus claim her as his, yet his mind knew better than to leave a bad first impression of his sexual prowess. Too afraid was he of disappointing her and, consequently, falling back into his life of celibate abstinence.

Andrea, however, seemed to have another plan as she took Eric's cock to the hilt and gyrated her hips on it, giving in to her most immediate urges.

“If you... don't... stop this, Andrea,” Eric said between his surprise moans, “I'm gonna... gonna cum any... any moment.”

“Do it, Eric,” she panted. “Do it and take me with you. Cum inside me and make me cum with you. We need that now. We can still make proper love later.”

Encouraged by her words and the prospect of being able to demonstrate his virility later, Eric brushed his fingers over her clit while she was still moving on his lap. Soon, he couldn't hold his orgasm anymore and with a battle cry, he pumped his semen into her hot cave as years of suppressed hormones boiled up in his loins. His vocal outburst was joined by her scream of ecstasy as her body shuddered through her own climax.

Both of them let their bodies fall into a heap of exhausted flesh as their orgasms subsided. Gasping for air, Andrea got off Eric's body and snuggled up to his side. They kept lying in that position for several minutes although the edge of the pool stair steps pressing against their bones were far from comfortable.

When they finally got back to their feet again, Eric held the small of his back in pain.

“We should have done this twenty years earlier,” he commented, his voice distorted by his pain. “I'm too old for this.”

Andrea, herself hobbling and holding her leg, giggled and shot back, “God, you're right. These steps to my thigh are killing me right now.”

They straightened their swimwear. Supporting each other, they limped back to the house. After a few steps, they were halfway able to walk by themselves again.

In the house, at the bottom of the stairs, Eric looked at the stairs and gasped, “Fuck, my back hurts just thinking about going up there! And don't get me started on my legs. I'm never gonna make these stairs. I'm just not twenty-something anymore.” He turned to Andrea who was standing right behind him. He tried to give her his best puppy eyes. “Can't we just resume our adventure on the couch?”

She bit her bottom lip and, reaching behind him, firmly groped his ass cheek. “No way, José. We gotta take a shower first. Also, you just hinted at it yourself: you're just not as young as to get your weenie back up that quickly anymore.”

Unable to think of a sly comeback, Eric frowned and replied, “Damnit! Got a point there. Guess I'll have to earn this one.”

He started stepping up the flight of stairs, giving his best shot at obviously exaggerating the effort and pain it caused him. As he glanced back over his shoulder, Andrea – rolled her eyes and landed a playful, yet heavy slap on his buttocks.

“Get your ass up there now, bozo!”

Eric ran up the stairs as fast as he could with his half-paralyzed legs, laughing. Andrea was following him, running up the stairs with a lot more trouble than him. Once inside the bathroom, she halted to look around, for she couldn't spot Eric. Before she noticed, the door behind her slammed shut and a pair of cold, wet swimming trunks landed on her back. She shrieked and turned around to find Eric standing there with the meanest smirk in his face.

“Oh, just you wait, you little prick,” she playfully hissed and quickly turned on the tap over the sink, holding two fingers over the opening to guide the cold water jet towards Eric.

Despite his efforts to jump out of the stream, he was splashed with the cold tap water. Andrea didn't seem to care that her body as well received her share of it. Eric stepped towards her and closed the tap before he took her in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips. She returned the favor by pressing her body against his and allowing his tongue to probe her lips. Soon, their swimwear was lying on the ground and they were holding each other, rocking their bodies against each other, roaming their hands over each other's backs.

Eric broke the ardent endearments to catch his breath and slide his hand between Andrea's thighs. He looked her in the eyes which she closed when she felt two of his fingers seek her entrance that was still stained with his seed. He scooped as much of the creamy liquid as his fingers could take and gently slid them between her lips. Immediately, he cupped her face and locked his lips to hers, darting his tongue into her mouth again to taste the mixture of their juices.

He felt her moans reverberate in his mouth; she was aching for more of him. His hands wandered down her back to her buttocks. He grabbed them by the very bottom and squeezed them tenderly, yet decisively. As a reaction, she pressed her pelvis against his upper thighs, slightly parting her legs to welcome his flaccid cock which was showing first signs of recovery.

He let his right hand wander to her crack where he allowed his middle finger to slide back and forth between her dripping pussy and her rosebud. He felt her helping his touch by rocking her crotch against his hand and his semi-erect cock.

Once he felt her rear entrance was slippery enough, he gently circled it with his finger, gently applying pressure to its ripples. She moaned and rocked her hips harder against his swelling cock and finger, broke the kiss and looked at him, her cheeks flushed in girlish shame about her arousal from his anal play. In her shy expression, Eric found an unspoken and unmet desire that craved fulfillment.

Her eyes spoke approval and apology at the same time as his finger rested at the opening to her rosebud. As he finally pressed just the tip into her puckered hole right to where he felt her sphincter contract to his touch, thankful bliss overcame her face.

“Lookie there who's a dirty girl,” he sneered at her.

Coming down from her initial shudder, she replied, “I hope you don't find this revolting but I told you I was a frustrated wife.”

Thinking he had heard genuine concern in her voice, he hugged her close and whispered to her ear, “Why would I find this revolting? All I want is to make you happy.”

“It's because...” she began, struggling for words and hesitating to speak out her mind, “Christian thought it was... disgusting. And oral too.”

Eric chuckled shook his head and said, “Oh, silly. I know you can take care of yourself and we can get ourselves squeaky-clean, right?”

Andrea nibbled on her bottom lip and put up an act as an innocent girl, winding a strand of hair around her index finger, looking at Eric with big eyes, bending her knees and rubbing them together. Taken aback, Eric gasped and took two small steps away from her.

Giggling, Andrea teased, “I knew you'd be taken off guard by the little girl act.” With renewed self-confidence, she grabbed his wrist and marched to the shower, pulling him with her, before adding, “And now let's take a nice shower and get us all cleaned up. I wanna feel your spunk in all my holes, baby.”

Eric laughed at her recovered courage and followed her more than willingly. The water from the rainfall shower head was still slowly warming up when they resumed making out wildly like a teenage couple.

They separated to stop the water and squirt some shower gel from the wall-mounted bottle into their palms and immediately resumed thereafter, soaping each other up.

Eric let go of her and knelt down in order to spread the gel on her legs and feet. Once he was all the way down, Andrea cleared her throat demonstratively to have him raise his face and look at her.

Parting her pussy lips with the index and middle finger of her left hand, she promptingly hinted, “Haven't you forgotten somethi–”

Her demand was interrupted by a surprised pant when Eric – with no deviation – guided his face to her crotch and planted his tongue between her fingers. She removed them so he could suck her labia into his mouth while licking her clit. Grinding her teeth, she hissed and started bucking her hips back and forth, riding his tongue. He sensed the combined aromas of his earlier ejaculation and her freely flowing natural lubrication, encouraging him to keep lapping her honey pot.

When he felt her legs weaken, he stopped to look up at her. Surprised to be deprived of her impending orgasm, she looked down puzzled.

“You might want to lean against the wall so you can let go better,” came his answer.

She followed his suggestion and leaned her shoulders against the wall tiles and bent her hips forward invitingly. She gave an approving hum when, once his face was buried in her vulva again, his right hand reached around her legs to her ass crack. Using the soap as a lubricant, he gently pushed his index into her rear entrance – a little more than the tip at first – causing her to moan approvingly. He buried his face into the patch of trimmed pubic hair and renewed his oral assault on her clit while softly wiggling his finger in her butt from side to side.

“Yes, Eric,” she yelped, “stretch my ass with another finger!”

While lowly humming against her vulva, he lubricated his ring finger with the shower gel remains and, together with his index, slowly guided it through her backdoor past her sphincter, making sure she could adapt to the larger intrusion. She was rocking her hips to ride his fingers until he had inserted them knuckle deep. Before long, he felt her body shake.

“If you keep this up,” she started, stopped for breath and added, almost screaming, “I'm gonna... I'm gonna...”

Happily anticipating what was to come, Eric moved his fingers in and out of her butt and sucked her clit between his teeth to bite it.

“Fuuuuuck!” and a stream of hot liquid hit his chest and chin as he kept licking her.

“Goooood!” and another stream squirted on his body, as he kept sliding his fingers in and out of her.

“Ugh!” and he allowed her to sit on the shower floor, relax and set free all the liquid she could spend in her post-orgasmic bliss.

The occasional spasm still jolted through her body when Eric took her hand and kissed it.

“How was that for starters?” he inquired.

“Get that dirty smirk out of your face and let me return the favor – well, some of it for the moment. You know full well this was the strongest orgasm I have ever been given.”

Smiling boyishly, he lent her a hand to get back up.

She looked at him and chuckled, “Now look at you: you're all covered in my juices let's rinse that off you before we go to the pleasant part.”

She turned the water on again and ran her hands over his chest. She kissed him on his lips and then trailed a way of pecks and playful bites along his jawline, his neck, down his chest towards his meat that was now standing in all its glory again.

Stroking it, she commented, “I'm surprised by how quickly you recovered. Not so old after all.”

“Getting squirted on by the girl of my dreams while fingering her ass? Are you kidding me?”

She stood up again to turn off the water and take some more shower gel.

“Let's see if that tube steak is as yummy as it looks,” she said, kneeling down and licking her lips.

He was laughing from the name she gave his cock before his laughter switched to joyful hums when he felt her soapy right hand fondle his balls while her lips formed a ring around his tip.

He watched as she withdrew her lips to gather some saliva in her mouth and let it dribble over his head. She spread her saliva using her lips and looked him in the eyes when she took half of his length into her mouth. He swallowed in anticipation as he felt her left hand reach around his thigh to return the favor of anal fingering. He had never received this before and was bracing himself for the worst before the light touch of her slippery finger on his brown star sent pure pleasure through his pelvis.

Andrea let go of his cock with a 'pop' and grinned at him knowingly. She removed her right hand from his balls and placed it on the base of his rod. While pushing her left index into his butthole, she started slowly bobbing her head up and down his shaft. In reaction, Eric felt his knees weaken and give away to the pleasure. Determined not to fall, he resisted the urge to let go and indulge in the sensations he had never felt before.

Noticing his waning balance, Andrea removed her finger from his ass and retracted his shaft, save for his mushroom, from between her lips. She kept licking the little slit at the tip while with both hands, she soaped up the length of his meat, pumping it.

When she released the tip too to get it covered in soap as well, she licked her lips and aspirated, “I won't allow you to cum just now. You still need that weapon to clean my ass inside out real good before I take you to bed. The soap should do the trick. And don't be afraid of shoving that thing up there. It will fit just fine, just go slow.”

Andrea bent over, resting her weight on one hand on the shower wall. She wiggled her buttocks invitingly and spread her cheeks to display her puckered hole with her free hand. As Eric stepped behind her and adjusted his tip to her backdoor, he felt it disappear with just a little pressure. Incredulous, Eric watched the better part of his shaft getting engulfed by her tight cave with a single backward motion of her hips.

“Oh yes, Eric!” she moaned. “That's my first real dick up my ass! Finally...”

Her voice was dripping with lust and only encouraged him to start driving his cock back and forth her asshole. She supported her weight with both hands and enjoyed the taboo sensation of getting her rear entrance stretched by her brother-in-law.

Her verbal outbursts matched Eric's slow pace: “Fuck, Eriiic! Clean me out goooood! Shove that thing deeeeeper!”

He didn't need to be asked twice to push his cock into her until his balls halted any deeper penetration. He first grabbed her right arm and held it at her wrist to allow her to find her balance and then did the same with her left arm. Holding both her wrists, he pulled her closer to maximize his intrusion into her.

“God, I feel so full, Eric,” she rhapsodized with the lewdest voice he had ever heard.

He held her in that position for a short instant until he slowly loosened his grip on her wrists and let his steel-hard cock slide out of her again.

“As much as I'd love to scratch your itch some more, I have to stop now. Otherwise, I might cum any moment and ruin the promised bed fun. I'm afraid I wouldn't get that dick up once more tonight,” he explained to which he earned a playful giggle as a reply.

“Guess we'll rinse your tool off cold, then?” she suggested, grabbing the secondary shower head and implementing her proposal before he had any chance to protest.

He yelped and almost jumped from the cold water against his testes and instantly, his cock lost most of its virile grace. Andrea laughed childishly seeing the projection of her deepest desires fall and gradually lose its bulk until its skin started to shrivel.

“Hard to believe this little thing filled me up to the brim just half a minute ago,” she commented in her fascination. “But now its ready for the real deal. Just let me get rid of all that soap too. You can go ahead. Wait on my bed. I won't be long. I promise.”

Still shocked from the sudden cold sensation to his scrotum, Eric stepped out of the shower and dried himself up. He reckoned he'd had it coming as a revenge for the little swimming trunk prank he had pulled off earlier.

Eric was lying naked under the sheets in Andrea's bed, waiting for her when he noticed the cicadas had taken up their mating call again. Wondering how many of these insects might have gotten as lucky as him that night, he smiled to himself about the irony of the situation.

When Andrea entered the room, naked, Eric drank in the sight of her body he found, despite in her early forties, flawless.

“Like what you see?” she inquired, pleased by his delighted expression. “Wait until you feel me.”

As a reply, he removed the blanket to reveal his newly rising erection. Charmed to see the effect of the cold water had subsided, she joined him in bed and straddled above his now fully awaken manhood. Looking hungrily at him, she guided his cock to the entrance of her still watering pussy to impale herself with a slow, savoring downward motion of her hips only to halt once her buttocks touched his thigh.

She spread her pussy lips to show Eric her clitoris and, between her labored breaths, said, “Look at how deep you're buried in me, Eric. Look how hungrily my depraved cunt is devouring your cock.”

Eric closed his eyes as he issued an enraptured moan when he felt her Kegels contract. As he opened his eyes again, he couldn't help licking his lips by the sight of his beloved displaying her vulva like this. He moistened his thumb with the juices from her drenched entrance and softly flicked it over her button. Her hips convulsed with his every touch and she hummed, looking at him through half-closed eyes.

“You're beautiful, Andrea, when my cock is inside you,” he whispered, making her smile and blush.

Soon, she started moving her hips back and forth as if lap dancing on his cock. She ran her hands through her face and hair like a stripper, displaying her body. Eric understood this as an invitation to place his hands on her breasts. She ground and rocked her pelvis against his to a rhythm only she seemed to perceive. Her hands took turns supporting Eric's fondling of her breasts while her facial features distorted every time he pinched one of her nipples.

When Andrea stopped moving and retracted Eric's cock from her pussy, he gave her an inquiring look.

Leaning toward her nightstand, she answered his unspoken question, “Not just yet, big guy. First, we'll have to get my ass nice and slippery. That's gonna be your job while you enjoy the show.”

She handed him a small bottle of lubricant before turning around and wiggling with her butt. She slowly lowered it to where Eric's cock was pointing and guided it back into her pussy in a reversed cowgirl position. Her hands spread her ass cheeks to exhibit her puckered hole which pulsated in sync with the contractions he felt in her pussy.

Eric applied some lube on his fingers and let a thin stream of it trickle down her crack. He caught the stream with his oily fingers and gently pushed the fluid into her rear hole in small portions using his index and middle finger.

Once she felt his finger probe her anus, Andrea removed her hands from her buttocks and placed one on Eric's thigh. With the other hand, she spread her pussy juices over his testicles. She circled his fingers over the slippery skin and applied her natural lubricant on his perineum, closing in on his anus with her every stroke.

Eric gasped in surprised delight as he felt her returning the favor of fingering her back door.

“If you wanna get your ass fucked right, you'll have to stop,” he warned her challengingly.

“Oh, I got this covered, don't you worry,” she shot back, clenching her free hand around his testicles to delay his orgasm.

Eric stiffened and whimpered painfully.

With an almost venomous tone, she soothed him, “Don't worry. I won't do this again – given you don't come too close to jizz prematurely.”

“Fuck! Time to pummel that tight ass of yours, then,” came his unhesitant, yet spiteful reply.

Andrea was laughing girlishly as she lay down flat on her stomach and used both her hands to spread her buttocks.

“Yes, Eric, pile-drive that rod home. Fuck me inside out.”

Like a bull in rut, Eric exhaled a deep breath through his nose as he leaned over Andrea's back and placed the tip of his cock at her lubricated hole. As commanded, he drove his entire length into her and, without giving her the chance to get used to the intruder, started pistoning in and out of her, getting rewarded with unintelligible guttural noises with every downward motion.

Andrea's body writhed uncontrollably in the sensations Eric's cock gave her. Her curses only encouraged him to keep pounding her. When she bucked her hips, Eric seized his chance to take them in his hands on either side and support his relentless thrusting.

He slipped one hand between her thighs and found her pussy wide open, begging to be stuffed as well. He inserted two fingers and started searching for her g-spot while feeling the movements of his cock through the thin wall separating her cervix and rectum.

Once his fingers started stroking her soft spot in sync with his thrusts, Andrea's body started shuddering. Soon, her moans turned into grunts and finally into deep gurgling as her climax took hold of her mind. Her pelvic muscles convulsed and cramped so tightly around his erection that Eric as well came to the very verge of his orgasm. Clenching his buttocks as if to prevent an unwanted rectal penetration, he succeeded in holding back his impending finish.

He retracted his manhood from its confinement and let Andrea catch her breath.

“Wow! Good thing I let it all out in the shower,” she panted, referring to her earlier squirting orgasm, then added, “You didn't come, did you? Good boy. 'cause I wanna look into that face of yours when you shot that delicious spunk up my ass. Cream me missionary.”

“I'm not gonna last any longer, just so you know,” Eric chuckled.

“All the better,” she replied, lying on her back again and spreading her legs. “You were already getting me pretty sore fucking me like that.”

Eric didn't waste a second to insert his cock back into her and just as he had announced, after only a few thrusts, he picked an arrhythmic pace and his cock started throbbing against its tight fleshy cage. Long growls accompanied every pulsation which shot splash after splash of his semen into her rectum.

Andrea welcomed him in her arms as he fell onto her, exhausted from his climax.

“I love you too, Eric,” she whispered, running her hand through his short hair.

*

“Papi, pourquoi tu pleures?”

His great-granddaughter's voice shook old man Eric out of his daydreams.

She was tugging on his shirt and repeated her question, “Are you crying, Grampa?”

He demonstratively opened his mouth, covered it with his hands, and lied, “No, dear. I'm tired, is all. Je devais juste bâiller, ma petite. That's why I have tears in my eyes.”

His granddaughter had left him alone with the three little girls at the most unusual time of the afternoon, using a flimsy pretense he failed to remember. To spend some quality couple time with her husband, Eric guessed.

As sweet as the kids were, all the playing with them couldn't distract his mind from racing back to all the times he had bent his beloved Andrea over the kitchen counter, the living room couch, the dinner table, the pool edge or simply, the bed during the few days left of their vacation forty-two years earlier.

The memories were not as deeply carved in his mind as that first time they had coupled but vivid enough to remind him of their debauched adultery every step he took in his sister-in-law's vacation home. His heart wrung every time his surroundings threw him back all these decades. All these years of unfulfilled desire despite their mutually shared love had taken a heavy toll on his mind and heart.

He thought of long, wordless phone calls where all that was exchanged were longing sighs, awkward visits where they would steal secret kisses here and there when no one was looking, family gatherings filled with wordless glances that spoke volumes about true intentions. His mind also traveled to his brother's funeral again – the day he had felt better not to support Andrea in her grief over her lost husband. He was still blaming himself for his decision to ignore her ever since that day out of respect for his brother – or rather: out of simple recreance.

As he was running as well as he could, being in his mid-eighties, yet fast enough to keep up with his four-, six- and eight-year-old great-granddaughters, he thought he was hearing the chirping of the cicadas gradually subside although it was still broad daylight. Eric saw the Mistral starting to rise above the treetops and got the children inside the house before the wind reached its notorious strength.

They were playing board games when he went to the kitchen to fetch some glasses of water. The wind was bending the trees in the garden and, for the second time in Eric's life, he noticed the cicadas were completely silent.

The gate to the estate opened and in rolled his granddaughter's family car. Unexpectedly, three figures stepped out of the car instead of only two. His granddaughter and her husband were supporting a seemingly elderly third person who was wearing a scarf around her head as a protection from the Mistral.

Regardless of what the kids were up to, Eric ran to the front door, his heart pounding in anxious anticipation. As he pulled the door open, his eyes fell on the face of his beloved Andrea. His mouth fell open and tears welled in his eyes. His jaw was trembling as he reached out to cup her face.

“Surprise, Grampa,” his grandson-in-law exclaimed. “We just got her from the air–“

His wife cut him off, “Shut up, Jacques, give them a break. Can't you see they need a moment alone?”

With a grunt, Jacques took his wife by her hand and left the reunited elderly couple alone.

Andrea beamed as tears ran down her wrinkled face. Eric too could not resist the urge to cry out of happiness to be reunited with his forbidden love.

The wind slowly abated.

The cicadas were silent.