Harold and Ellen were up at first light on Saturday morning, spending a few minutes listening to songbirds enjoying the dawn in the unfamiliar backyard before heading inside in search of breakfast.

Married twenty-nine years and having gone through a few seasons of their own, they were now helping their daughter, Vivian, start a new chapter in her life. Viv had married Shane a year before, and now the young couple were just moving all their belongings out of their cramped starter apartment into their first house. Of course, Shane and Viv didn't need help from her mom and dad, and didn't want to impose upon them to travel, but everyone was happy to use the move for some family bonding time.

Harold started the coffee, with Ellen reminding him, as she had done for the better part of three decades, not to make it too strong. She got to work halving and sectioning a grapefruit while he made the whole-grain toast and set the butter and jam out for them.

After devouring their grapefruit, they were into their toast and coffee, legs touching under the table as they often did.

“Remember when we moved into our first house?” Harold asked her in a whisper.

“Of course,” she replied, accepting the bite her husband was feeding her. “A little fun in the kitchen, if I remember correctly.”

A kiss came next, with a bit of jam intentionally clinging to his lip. “You remember correctly.”

“But that was our house,” she reminded him. “With no one else around.”

“Oh, we can be quiet,” he whispered, feeding her another bite. “Viv and Shane probably won't be up for a while.” His hand slipped up her thigh, teasing just inside her nightshirt.

Ellen got up from the table when they had shared the last bite, stacking their dishes quietly in the sink and fetching a bit more milk for her coffee. Standing behind Harold, she massaged his shoulders as he looked at a few photos from moving day the day before.

“Mmmm, that feels good. The guest bed isn't the best, but I'm sure glad they got that in here yesterday. I sure would have hated sleeping on the couch or something.”

“I would have had the couch,” she teased, continuing to massage him. “You would have had the floor.”

“Nope,” he said. “A nice hotel room!”

“Oh, I'd be in the hotel! You'd be on the couch.”

“I'd be in the hotel with you, if it meant one of your sexy massages.”

“Sexy? Hardly.”

“Oh, your hands all over me is getting me excited, that's for sure, see?” Indeed, when he unbuttoned the fly of his boxers, he presented his semi-hard dick for her to see.

“Harold!” She mock-scolded him. “Put that thing away!”

“I'll put it somewhere,” he teased, standing up and backing her into the counter. “But not 'away!'”

“You're terrible,” she said, but she liked the way he kept things sexually interesting even after being married as long as they had.

“You did this to me, touching me all sexy like you do.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing his pecker and stroking it at her. “Or maybe it was reminiscing about the naughty things we've done in kitchens.”

“We can't have sex in our daughter's new kitchen, with them just down the hall.”

“I bet we can!”

She melted when he grabbed her around the middle and started making out with her like they were in their twenties again. They had done it in a variety of risqué locations over the years, and she was beginning to get excited at the prospect of stealing a quickie right then and there.

“Mmm, El,” he whispered, hand full of one of her breasts through her nightshirt. “Looks like I'm not the only one who has something stiffening.” He mouthed at her nipple through the material.

Harold's cock was still sticking out of his boxers, so Ellen figured, why the fuck not, and grabbed hold of it, making it grow and stiffen even more as her husband attacked her neck and ears with his mouth. Years before, he had quickly learned what kisses like this did to her, and was never out of practice.

Her nightshirt was long enough to cover her thighs, but short enough to come up easily. A hand inside his wife's panties gave him a sampling of her wetness. Pushing one side of her panties over her hip and then working the other side down, he knelt before her, dropped them to the floor, and pulled them off her feet. After kissing up her thighs and raising her shirt to expose her bush, he spent a moment making her moan softly with his tongue finding her slit. When the moaning subsided, he looked up – she was enjoying sips of her coffee while he was enjoying slurps of her pussy.

Harold stood, feeling up Ellen's body, and after making out like a couple half their age again for a minute, it was his turn to get some oral pleasure. He sipped on his coffee, looking down at his kneeling wife pulling his boxers down just over his cock and running her tongue all over the tip. After gathering more and more shaft into her mouth, she was sucking strongly on his entire dick all the way down to the base.

“I need some of this inside me,” she whispered up at him. “In my pussy.”

Standing up, Ellen turned halfway around and leaned over the counter, allowing Harold to lift up her shirt and poke his dick head at her slit. She groaned as he penetrated her, clutching her panties and trying to look back at him.

“Shhh!” he told her. She giggled, then covered her mouth. Harold held onto one of her breasts, feeling the stiff nipple through her shirt while he pumped in and out in a steady rhythm, giving her the cock she said she needed. He pushed her shirt up more as he fucked her harder, working his hand up inside to squeeze a bare tit.

Ellen masturbated her clitoris while she got fucked, feeling her firm, engorged nub and fingering her husband's shaft while it stroked smoothly in and out of her.

Sure, Harold and Ellen had put on a few extra pounds and had a few extra creaky joints as they had advanced into their fifties, but had maintained themselves well enough to make situations like this work. She spun around and wrapped his shoulders in her arms, kissing his neck and ears. “Mmm, fuck me, yes,” she whispered.

He hooked a hand behind her knee, lifting so that she was standing on one leg, and re-inserted his dick into her. Driving up into her hard, he gripped her ass as her tits jiggled against his chest.

“Uh, yes, give it to me!” Ellen ground her crotch against him, squeezing his cock with her vaginal muscles while her clit was getting crushed just right.

“Shh!” he warned, looking into her face but continuing to fuck her steadily, close to orgasm.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “Give it to me. Fuck me,” she whispered, barely audibly. “Better?”

“Oh, fuck yes, uuhhh,” he panted softly, legs trembling.

Neither of them knew who came first, but it didn't matter. They both stood there, trying not to cry out, breathing heavily, until a minute later they had pushed through their climaxes, stimulating themselves and each other, bodies fused together, rocking as their sex became slicker and sloppier from the mixture of their juices.

When Harold pulled out of her, he wet a few paper towels, wiping himself and handing some to Ellen. They spent their recovery time finishing their coffee, glowing and smiling at each other.

Then, footsteps. They were pretty sure they had finished in time not to be caught, but gave each other nervous glances anyway. They made sure they wiped away any last dribbles and were otherwise put back together, except for her panties that were fortunately small enough to be concealed in Ellen’s fist.

They greeted Vivian as she joined them in the kitchen. “What are you doing up so early, dear?” Ellen asked their daughter casually, trying not to look flushed.

“I smelled the coffee, and heard… dishes.” Vivian smiled. “And I could ask you the same thing.”

“Oh, nothing unusual. We're always up earlier than you youngsters,” Harold replied. “Well, off to the shower, I guess.”

“See you in a bit, Viv.” Ellen started to follow her husband.

“Oh, and,” Vivian called after them, “maybe put some pants on?”