I have a bad and unending, incessant headache which is the inspiration for this story. It was written during the headache, too.



After the surgery on my sinuses I had a side effect of a bad headache. It lasted 24/7, and I was in day nine of the continual headaches. I was beginning to lose it. Tylenol was like taking M&Ms, and the other over the counter meds were not any better. I was taking Motrin for its anti-inflammatory properties (via a recommendation of the surgeon), and of course I hoped it would help with the headache, but it didn’t.

My friends felt bad for me, especially my closest friends, and even more especially, my friend Sue. Sue called me each day to see if there was something I needed or wanted. She was really sweet. Finally, I broke down and told her what I’d love is a head massage like the ones one gets at a fancy hairdressing salon. I knew she had once worked as a hair washer at a salon while in college, a long time ago. I do indeed mean long ago, since Sue is in her mid 40s and I myself am in my early 60s.

There was a long silence. “Are you still there?” I asked into the phone. I assumed Sue was considering such an unusual request.

“Yes. I’m at work now, but I’ll pass by your place after work,” Sue said.

“Why?” I asked.

“To give you a head massage, you idiot!” Sue said. “It’s been a while, but it’s not rocket science, you know. I still give them occasionally to Mike, anyway.” Mike was her on again, off again partner. This was an off again period, and it had been a fairly long one. I wondered if they had broken up definitively?

I told her she did not need to do that. She affirmed she was going to anyway, and I then told her she was a doll. She replied to that saying, “I know.” Sue has long blonde hair and a pretty face. I suspect she is anorexic or something, because she is painfully thin. She works out at the gym daily, though, and her arms have some nice muscle tone. Her legs however resemble toothpicks and I always worried they were going to snap or something. She does have nice breasts, and she always, and I do mean always, tries to show off a little cleavage. No complaints here.

I got some care packages in the mail. One was a lovely package of goodies from my sister in Indiana. If there is one thing I hate it is packing peanuts. I admit they do a good job of protecting breakables one ships, but when you go to open the box, especially if your brain is muddled by an incessant headache, the peanuts go everywhere! They go all over the floor, and zip underneath furniture, too. If it hurts your head to bend over, as it did mine, cleaning up the peanuts is a great way to poison one’s mood.

After cleaning up the peanuts, I was indeed in a bad mood. I was trying to get some work done despite my addled brain and stumbling around and generally quite grumpy when the doorman called to tell me Sue was here, and should he send her up? I said yes, and Sue, equipped as always with some nice cleavage, was up at my door a few minutes later. She had brought me flowers.

As was our custom, Sue gave me a kiss on the cheek, and we sat and talked for a bit, catching up on the latest politics, both local and national. My exciting news was that our building had just hired a new doorman to replace one who had quit and moved to Florida. In other words, I had no news. Sue is a chatterbox, so I did not have to contribute much to the conversation. This was a good thing, given my miserable state.

At one point she took my hand, pulled me up, and led me to the bedroom, her boobs bouncing before her, pointing the way. “Lie down on the bed, on your stomach, Mark,” she said. I complied.

She began to message my head. She was sitting on my ass, a leg on either side of my torso. She must have hiked up her skirt to be able to do that. Pity all I could see was my bedspread. Oh my, she was good. The way she worked my scalp, rubbing it just the way they do at those fancy beauty parlors, pressing hard at all the right places, was heaven incarnate. She put her fingers at my temples and applied pressure, moving them around in little circles. She was beginning to make me feel grateful I had a headache, since it begat this amazing massage.

The massage was sensuous and having a sexy, good friend sitting on my ass giving me one made it so much better! She must have given me a massage for at least twenty minutes, and I have to say it worked wonders both on my mood and my head. She got off me, and I Gaziantep Yabancı Escort just lay there, enjoying my bliss. I guess I missed the sight of her pulling her skirt down and straightening it out. At that point I did not care.

“Sue, that was wonderful. I already feel so much better! You are an angel,” I said.

“I’m glad you liked it. I also give full body massages. If you’d like one, let me know,” Sue said.

“No need to think about it, I’d love one! What can I do for you in exchange?” I said.

“I’ll think of something. I may call you if a spider shows up in my bathroom, or for another emergency in the future. Men can be so handy, you know?” Sue said. She added, which I took suggestively given her tone, “For all sorts of things.”

“Tomorrow then for the full body massage? I’ll come by again after work. Wear a towel,” Sue said.

“What do you mean, ‘wear a towel?’ I asked.

“You need to be naked for a full body massage, and I don’t want to be staring at your privates while I give you one,” Sue said. She smiled. “I’ll bring some baby oil, for my big baby,” Sue said. It was my turn to smile.

“Oh. Of course,” I said.

“You know, in college, I used to give men massages while I was naked. I charged a lot for those,” Sue said.

I just looked at her. Why was she telling me this?

“Are you judging me?” she asked, seeing my expression which must have been unusual. “I needed the money. No sex was involved. But men will pay a lot if the woman massaging them is naked, even if there’s no sex,” she said.

“Weren’t you worried about being raped, or something?” I stupidly asked.

“Of course, I was. I’m not an idiot. The massage parlor had a big bruiser standing by and I never had to call upon his services, thank goodness. Some of my friends did, though. Men can get carried away, as I’m sure you know,” Sue said.

“Alana actually was raped. The client, as we called the men who availed themselves of our services, had a gun. A gun trumps muscle. Luckily Alana was a bit of a tramp, and she took it well. We used to call her ‘No drama Alana.’ She was an impressive girl,” Sue said thoughtfully. “The fool paid with a visa card, so Alana was able to press charges, and the client went to jail. Guns are serious business in New York City.”

“Wow. I had no idea about any of this,” I said.

“Well, I was in constant need of money in college,” Sue said. “I also waitressed and walked people’s dogs.”

“Your parents are rich,” I said. “This does not compute.”

“They did not approve of my boyfriend, and they cut me off. He was black,” Sue said. “Alana was black too, by the way.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. I wondered if Sue was telling me all this because I’m a man of color, too?

“Yes, it was a hard time for me. It was long ago. Thanks for your sympathy,” Sue said.

My head felt good for a solid hour, and then my relentless headache returned. Nothing I did helped. Pills were useless. Heating pads did not help. Food did not help, except for chocolate, which helped a little, tiny bit, for reasons I did not know. Maybe it was a placebo effect? Who knew? I guess doctors call us patients because that’s what we need most of all: patience.

My doctor was doing his part to help the opioid epidemic, and I had some prescription pills, and I took one. It did not remove the headache but it sure as hell masked the pain. I knew I had a headache but I just did not care. This was a short-term fix, however. I was leery of taking too many drugs.

The next day Sue again passed by my place after work. She flashed the baby oil at me. This time she had some chocolates for me. I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend such as Sue, but I damn sure wanted to keep doing it. I was prepared, and I greeted her in my bathrobe, being naked underneath it.

“I guess you’re ready for your massage. No small talk first?” Sue said, her eyes twinkling.

“I’m just in a lot of pain, Sue,” I said, “But sure, we can talk first.”

“Go lie down on your stomach, naked. Use a towel to cover that perfect butt you have, Mark,” Sue said. “Then close your eyes. No peeking.”

I did as asked and I closed my eyes. I heard the rustle of her clothes coming off. Sue once again sat on my ass. This time she was straddling my ass, sitting on the towel. She once again gave me a head massage from heaven. My headache receded in the face of the onslaught of her magical fingers. I relaxed and felt serene as the pain receded.

Next, I felt the cold that one feels when oil is applied over one’s naked body. She put it everywhere on my backside. Her hands even went under the towel to cover my ass with baby oil. Sue proceeded to give me the most sensual and wonderful massage I had ever had. Boy oh boy was this woman talented! I could not help myself and I began to groan with pleasure.

Sue began to massage my back with long strokes, starting at my shoulders and continuing down to my ass. As if carried by momentum her hands would go under the towel and massage my cheeks. Somehow by going under the towel it was sexier than if I had been naked. I began to get aroused.

Sue then began on the backs of my legs. She was thorough, and I could not help but get aroused again when she massaged the insides of my thighs. She got dangerously close to my junk, and when finally she began the long strokes, she again let momentum carry her hands under the towel.

“Okay, my man,” Sue said. “It’s time to roll over onto your back.”

I complied and now I saw her naked body, her boobs dangling lusciously, seductively, begging to be touched. Her pussy had a nicely trimmed bush around it, the way I like them. I guess she saw my eyes get wide.

Sue smiled. “You’re getting a $250 massage, Mark and that’s in 1987 dollars. It’s probably over $500 in today’s money. Of course, I’m no longer a sexpot in her early twenties. For you though, this nude massage is free.” Smiling broadly at my gobsmacked reaction to seeing her nude, she sat down on the towel covering my privates, just south of my cock upon inevitably noticing the large tent and carefully avoiding crushing my jewels. “Nice to know you can still get it up, given your age. How old are you, Mark?”

“I’m 62,” I managed to get out. Sue was already massaging my forehead and again my temples. Her nipples were grazing my chest as she leaned forward to reach my head.

“I love your chest hair,” she said.

“I love your boobs,” I said. She just smiled.

She massaged my chest and let me tell you, a great chest massage is a wonderful thing. I just wished my erection were not so painful. Sue then got off me and standing over me she massaged the front of my legs. She carefully avoided my groin and getting anywhere near my junk.

I was in bliss. When every part of my body had been massaged, Sue took away the towel, revealing to her twinkling eyes my throbbing erection, with its protruding bright blue veins. She said, “What shall we do about this little problem you have? I’m worried your balls will turn blue.”

I was too shocked to speak. She leaned over my cock and she began to suck it lovingly. Jesus, besides the massage talents she was one hell of a cock sucker! She did not deep throat me or anything; she did not need to. Here I was 62 and I have known my share of women over the decades, but Sue was better at sucking my cock than anyone had ever been, even better than my dear departed wife Roxanne, and believe me, that’s saying something!

Suddenly she stopped. How could she stop? I needed to cum so badly! I was in despair, but Sue climbed up on the bed and she hovered her pussy over me. She carefully, slowly, and yes, even lovingly, lowered her pussy onto my cock. “I lied, Mark.”

“How so?” I asked.

“When I told you that no sex was involved when I gave naked massages, I fibbed just a little. Nobody paid $250 just for a naked massage, you know.”


“Yes, Mark, I was a massage parlor sex worker when I was young. In crude parlance, I was a whore. It’s how I paid for my college education,” she said. “Before you ask, yes, I got STDs. Thank goodness for antibiotics. I had Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, and even Syphilis. I was lucky and never got AIDS.”

While she said this, she was bouncing up and down on my cock, giving me pleasure the likes of which I thought I would never experience again. Sex is great, but sex with a woman you know and truly care for, is far greater.

Sue stopped talking and began to moan. I guess either confession time was over, or what I preferred to think was that she was enjoying fucking me so much she was reduced to moaning. I had read somewhere that whores fuck, but do not kiss, and that’s why I pulled her head down and kissed her gently as we fucked. She returned the kiss and even opened her mouth. Our tongues played with each other as she fucked me silly. Suddenly she broke the kiss as she climaxed, shaking and quivering on top of me and screaming little screams of “Oh! Oh! Oh!”

It appeared to me that she was surprised she was orgasming. I was fairly sure she was not faking it either. I rolled her over so that I was on top and I began to fuck her really hard. I plowed that luscious pussy and the woman who owned it for all I was worth. Sue was gasping repeatedly and breaking the gasps with an occasional, “Oh my God.”

We kept at it for a while. I kept looking at her gorgeous boobs as we fucked. I love the boobs of a mature woman. They’re bigger for one thing, and with Sue at least she had large areolas, something I love on a woman’s boobs. My dear departed wife Roxanne had areolas so big they were larger than the entire boobs of some other women. Sue is white, and does not have the African large areola feature, but she nevertheless had boobs of beauty.

I massaged them with my hands as I put the meat to her with all the force I could muster. Every powerful thrust was met with a loud gasp, and I loved it. That little honey of a woman actually climaxed a second time. After her second climax I must have reached the red zone on my cock tachometer since I was feeling like a piston going in and out of her so fast it was a blur. I drove myself to the edge, and finally exploded inside her, filling her up with what must have been months of stored up cum. Then I collapsed on top of her sexy, small body.

We lay there for a while, before she pushed me and I rolled off her. “Did you like the massage?” Sue asked, her voice sweet and innocent.

“Yes, very much. Did you?”

“Yes, but what I really liked was the way you fucked me,” she said still with her sweet, innocent voice. “Do you want to take me to dinner and then fuck me all night long?” Sue asked. Having such language coming out of what then seemed like the virginal mouth of a teenager was a contrast which was sexy as hell.

I smiled. “Tell me, my most sexy friend, what other wanton things did you do in your reckless youth?”

“I’ll tell you, but no details, at least not tonight, okay?”


“Well, after the massage parlor experience, I became a call girl. I did not like that, because it was too dangerous,” she said.

“How so? Did anyone try to rape you or something?” I asked.

“What part of no details did you not understand?” Sue said, clearly annoyed with me.

“Sorry. Anything else?” I asked.

“That’s not enough?” Sue replied, smiling in almost a smirk.

“It’s more than enough. Much more. But I feel there’s another shoe waiting to drop,” I said.

“That shoe would be my brief stint in the porn industry, I suppose.” Seeing the reaction on my face, she said, “Hey, it was safe, the men were clean, and I needed the money, remember? Besides, I was fucking good at it. No pun intended. I can act, as it turns out.”

“Yes, but pun made,” I said, laughing. Sue laughed, too.

“How can I see the porn? I really want to see it!” I said. I could not believe my friend was a former porn actress. Holy shit. And a former whore. And a former call girl. And we had just spectacularly fucked.

“What part of no details did you not understand?” Sue said, again, and again she looked annoyed.

“Italian food okay?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Perfect,” she said. “Lay on, McDuff. Here, swallow this with your dinner,” Sue said, handing me a Viagra pill.

“I don’t need that, lover,” I said.

“With me, you most certainly do,” Sue said. “A girl has needs.”

I smiled. No doubt she was right. Who knew my good friend Sue was this sex crazed forty something woman friend? Everyone should be this lucky. I knew I was. I smiled throughout dinner, especially when Sue played footsie with me under the table.

As dinner came to a close, Sue dropped another bombshell. “Do you like exhibitionist sex, lover?”

I was beginning to think I was in over my head. I had known Sue for close to ten years and there had never been even a hint of this part of her personality. Go with the flow, I told myself, and suddenly I noticed my headache was gone. Frabjous day, I thought! I reached across the table and took the small, fragile, feminine hand of my new lover. I had to give this time, but I already knew. I had always liked Sue as a friend, but now? Now I loved her with all the dimensions the word love can imply. I could not wait to get her home.

Sue was waiting for an answer. “Sue, whatever you want, I am there for you,” I said.

A gleam appeared in Sue’s eyes. She smiled a smile I had never, ever seen before on her face. It almost scared me. “Good,” was all she said, but in that one word, she spoke volumes.

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