Eargasm [TG Bimbo Age Regression]
Old Widow Green participates in a product study.
Old Miss Lucy's dead and gone Left me here to weep and moan - Moby, "Flower"
Mrs. Green leaned her cane against the table, and frowned. "Why on Earth would you need to focus test Q-Ti-"
"They're not, ma'am. Those are owned by Unilever." The scientist tapped the box on the table. "These are Slick Health and Beauty cotton swabs."
Mrs. Green frowned harder. "I thought you weren't supposed to use these for cleaning your ears?"
"Normal ones, no. But these are not the normal ones."
"Why me?"
"Because some feel the...more experienced members of our population are an underserved market for our Health and Beauty line of products."
"Experienced, huh?" Mrs. Green's thin, wrinkled lips curled up at the corners. "Are you trying to butter me up? Anything else of mine you'd like to experience?"
The scientist coughed. "Just...clean your ears like normal. When you're done, a buzzer will sound, and we'll come in and ask you some questions."
The door didn't exactly slam shut, but it came close. Mrs. Green smiled at it. It was fun to mess with the younguns.
She stretched out her hand. Good, no trembling today. Her elbow barely hurt at all. Under her floral dress and sweater, the sagging skin on her arm wiggled.
Not exactly a spring chicken anymore, are you, old girl?
The packaging was easy to open, so that was nice. She started by scraping her outer ear. There was a scar on the ridge of her right, where a car had kicked up a stone and hit her while she was...
What was she doing back then? Who was she with? It couldn't've been important, right?
The swab got all the outer-ear crusty stuff on the first try.
She scratched the back of her leg with her orthopedic shoe.
She is washing the dishes when George comes through the front door. The kids are at school, and he's home early. The meeting was shorter than expected, apparently.
She doesn't turn around as they talk. He wraps his arms around her waist, and he nuzzles her neck, over the collar of her sundress. He smells like that aftershave, the on in that pale cone-shaped bottle with the ship. She breathes faster, and spins around, to meet him in a kiss. Good thing the kitchen window faced the backyard-
Where did that come from? She hadn't thought about...that, in years. Much less done it with anyone, since she lost George. Hadn't even thought about remarrying.
And now she felt that...heat, again, that pressure.
No. She couldn't. Not in the middle of the testing room. She'd go home, take a cold shower, and lie down.
A shudder passed through her.
Ooor she could just go see a doctor on her way home.
Another shudder.
Or maybe she could just ask the research team for help. Once she was done with the swabs.
Strange. It wasn't hard to clean out her outer right ear. She could've sworn she had some hair in there. Or, rather, people told her she had hair in there. She had just shrugged and ignored it; it wasn't like she was dating anyone. No ice cream socials at the retirement home.
The retirement home. The kids said it was for her own safety, but they couldn't wait to get their hands on the house. It was their birthright, after all, but a self-respecting scavenger should wait for the corpse to actually be a corpse.
Maybe she was just in denial.
She pulled the swab out, and examined it. It was thick, about the size of her little finger. She flipped the end around, and applied it to her left outer ear. It had a little trouble getting into the cracks. She tossed it into the handy garbage bin.
In this light, the liver spots didn't look so bad. Her skin looked a little tighter too.
The next swab was the size of her thumb. How was it supposed to fit in her ear canal? She guided it to the hole, pressed it gently-
She is washing the breakfast dishes when she hears Jim creep up behind her. He murmurs something indistinct. His right arm snakes under her shirt, pinches a nipple between two of his fingers, while the rest squeeze her boob. She arches into him, even as his deft left hand unsnaps the button on her Daisy Dukes, and shoves between her legs. He smells like that cologne he likes, the one in the green bottle.
They're in front of the window. The neighbors might see.
...Let them watch.
A flush climbed Janice's slightly wrinkled neck. She took off her bifocals, put them on the table, and rubbed her eyes. What was wrong with her?
Her husband was named, her husband was named...
Jim.
That was wrong.
That was, like, wrong, right?
She needed to relax. She took another swab out of the box, a big, thick, purple one, with veins on it. Then she stuck it in her ear-
Whoops! There was already one in there. Right. She took the new one, put it on the table. Then she..
Oh, right. She pulled one out of her ear. It seemed kinda big to fit in her ear. Or her head. Wouldn't it meet the one in her other ear?
"It's not gay if the balls don't touch!" she said, to nobody in particular, and giggled. Her firm breasts jiggled.
The swab was dark green, and covered in pink stuff, a lighter pink than her fingernail polish. Was it brains? Was she screwing her own brains out? What did it taste like?
Janice put it in her mouth, ran her tongue around the ridge of the head.
Bubblegum and candy, apparently. It made bubbles go off in Janice's head, like soap. Pop-pop-pop!
There was that one time she and Jim had laid in the backyard and played with a bubble wand, and then-
Her breathing came faster.
Well. And then.
So, what would she do with the brainy swab?
She stared at it, and tried to come up with an idea. It was hard. So she stood up and stretched. Bent over, touched her toes. The biggest obstacle was her boobs, not her back. If she had tried that yesterday, she would've ended up in an ambulance. Or wishing she had one of those cute little medical emergency necklaces from the commercials.
Shame they didn't come in pink.
Oooh, or rose gold!
While she was down there, she looked herself over. She had never been that flexible. Her hips never that phat. Her tits were never that huge. Her cock was never that big.
Wait.
When did she get that? Okay, it was, like, tiny, but she was pretty sure it was a grower, not a shower. What else changed down there?
Now that she thought about it, there was this weird, like, pressure in her cunny. Like the time she gave birth. But smaller. And less messy, hopefully?
She reached into her slit like she was rooting around in a coin purse. There was something in there, something wrinkly.
...Was pink nail polish toxic to a vagina?
She managed to get a grip on a flap of skin, and pulled. The mass shifted downward. Jan bit her lip. The pinch hurt, but it felt good too. She pulled harder. The mass shifted. Another pull, she flexed muscles she didn't even know she had-
And her fat balls fell neatly into her hand.
"Good boys," she cooed. Was that her voice? She sounded like a phone sex operator. How did she know what a phone sex operator sounded like?
Her cock was big enough to fill, but not overfill, her palm. Not even average size.
Well, why shouldn't she try something new? What was wrong with looking like a MILF, like an experienced woman? She had lain with a man, she had given pleasure and been pleasured in turn-
Giggle. "I banged my husband!"
- she had given birth -
Giggle. "He knocked me up!"
- and fed them from her breast.
Giggle, giggle. "I let them suck my titties!"
"Titties."
Titties, titties, titties. Jan rolled the word around in her head. Giggles periodically escaped her, like bubbles in a boiling pot, fading into pink, vapid vapor. And Jan just couldn't make herself be concerned.
Unless you counted concern about the size of her cock - it was longer than her hand, now, just small enough to wrap her thumb and finger around - or her gaping rear.
Just to keep busy, she stuck the purple swab in her ear, and a cute pink one in the other ear. And a nice baby blue one in her mouth. She pistoned the ones in her ears in and out. Drool ran down the one in her mouth, and pink stuff ran out of her ears. Now, what to do with the green brainy swab?
Was she forgetting something? Oh, right. She reached back, and ran a finger over her booty, and then her hole. A shudder ran down her spine. If she had known anal felt this good, she would've done it years ago, with, with...
Well, his name wasn't important. But the finger wasn't going to cut it.
Would the chair...? No. No, it had to be the table. Let them watch.
Jan's sneakers squeaked on the folding chair, and again when she climbed onto the table. She carefully knelt and picked up the swabs - she made sure to face away from the big one-way mirror - then bent way, waaay over so she could place them on the chair. Along with her shades, the trendy ones that were dark at the top and clear at the bottom.
Huh. What had she done with her cane?
She stood up, faced the mirror, spread her legs, did a few deep-knee bends. Her full, massive tits bounced on her chest, and she reached up with each hand to squeeze the nipples between her fingers, let them see her flawless skin. She hitched up her tight, floral dress. Used the balls at the base of the swab to get a good grip so she could position it properly, pressed down to make sure the suction cup on the bottom was firmly attached. Then she lowered herself toward it.
Her mouth watered.
The cotton swab just touched her anus.
She pretended she didn't know he was coming, that she didn't hear the floorboards creak, hear his heavy breathing. In fact, the only acknowledgment was the way she tented her apron.
And the fact that she was wearing nothing but an apron.
He doesn't bother with preamble. He just wraps an arm around her throat, and another around her waist. She pretends it's a shock, asks who he is, what was he doing in her house, pretends to fight it. She can smell his sweat, his musk. It only makes her harder.
He bends her over the sink, one hand on the back of her neck, the other bracing him on the side of the counter. Her boo - her tits swing through the foam in the sink. Little bubbles on her nipples. The window's open; anyone in the street could see, anyone could hear her moan like a whore as he drives in-
Jan pushes herself down, and her full, red lips part in a moan. She bites down on the swab in her mouth. Yes, exactly like that.
She worries the kids could come in, and then she remembers; you need a cunt to have kids. Why did she think she had kids?
Her cock rubbed against the cupboard door, and her pre slicked the wood. She'd have to clean that later. Which would put her head at crotch level -
Jan bit her lip, tried to imagine the swab in her was his cock.
The foam smells like lemon.
A little pink liquid leaks out of the head of her cock. It's big enough to need both hands.
She was coming. She could feel i-
BZZZZT!
Her name was Janice Green. She was born on May 5th, 1937. She was an old woman sitting in a chair.
The door opened, and Mrs. Green blinked. The scientist walked in. "We're sorry to interrupt your nap, but we need the room."
Nap?
The scientist gestured to his ears. "You might want to..."
Mrs. Green reached up. She had cotton swabs in each ear. She pulled them out, and a feeling ran through her, like an echo of...something.
What was all that?
She looked down at her hands, with the same old liver spots on the same old wrinkly skin. The words 'boring' and 'empty' floated through her mind, just as the scientist started asking questions.
Yes, they did seem to do a good job cleaning out her ears. Yes, they were comfortable. Yes, they were easy to handle.
The scientist scribbled something on his clipboard. "Well, that's all. You're free to go."
Mrs. Green blinked. She reached for her cane, braced herself on the table, and struggled to her feet. Opened her mouth, wavered a little, and said "can I...take these home?"
The scientist shrugged. "I suppose. We've been using a fresh box for every participant anyway, for hygiene reasons."
"Thank you."
She stuffed the container into her purse, and made for the door as fast as she could. Time to get home as fast as possible-
She reached for the doorknob.
"One last question, Mrs. Green. Would you recommend the product to people you know?"
"Yes," Janice said. "Oh, yes.."
Eargasm 2019 Nequ CC-SA-NC Fan stories welcome
I had to Image Search "sexy grandma" for this. I hope you're happy.
I've been wanting to do a TF story about cotton swabs for literally years. But I couldn't figure out a way to make them sexy. Then I combined that with another idea I had never had a chance to use; someone's brains getting screwed out of them through their ears.
I don't know if anyone actually has an ear cleaning fetish. I don't want to know. But if there is, I bet there's a subreddit for it.