Olympia slid her hands between the loose folds of Barbara’s flimsy robe. It fell aside and the sodden weight of Barbara’s breasts fell in her hands. The wrinkles in the flesh raced toward her ragged nipples. Olympia felt a shiver center on her clitoris. Already it had nosed its way past the dangling folds of her labia and stood out from her sparse, iron-gray pubic hair. Olympia began to palpate Barbara’s ponderous breasts in lazy circles.
“We have to take care of ourselves,” Barbara whispered hoarsely, “being a woman is a pre-existing condition.” Olympia shuddered anew when Barbara pulled the heavy speculum from where it was warming in a pan of water. She felt wet for the first time in decades.
“Your mouth, Barbara. Your mouth looks like the sweetest asshole I’ll ever know.”