A True Story - Hot Hook Up
My Aunt’s Friend Ellie
This happened when I was in my mid twenties, so it’s a fair old time ago. I will try to relate the details as well as I can remember them. Having said that, the occasion is certainly one that has left its mark on me.
I used to regularly visit my aging aunt to have a cuppa and a talk. She lived by herself and although she had a few friends who used to call in on her, none of our greater family (with the possible exception of her equally aged brother) used to visit her. So, being a good nephew, every few weeks I would drop in and let myself in, (as she wasn’t very mobile,) with the key left in a secret place known only to the privileged few of which I was one. Once inside I would walk through to where she usually sat in the rear of her house in a sunny spot. Quite often one of her friends would drop in when I was there and my aunt would proudly display her nephew (me) to them, telling them of my achievements. Sometimes it was positively embarrassing and I used to pray that none of them dropped in on the days I visited.
One of those unfortunate visiting days her neighbour from five or so houses down the street, called in. I knew this woman, she was a nice person and so it wasn’t the visit from hell seeing her once again. She had a way of looking you straight in the eyes which used to unnerve me at first, but I grew to accept and appreciate that particular aspect of her personality as it showed her interest in the other person (me in this case) unlike most people who are just waiting for you to stop talking before pitching in with their story or comment. I think it also reflected her intelligence. After the usual pleasantries and the following slightly uncomfortable silence, my aunt refreshingly said to me that this woman (her name was Ellie) needed something fixed in her house and would I have a look at it. I had had a nice talk with my Aunt up to that point and so Ellie and I left my aunt and went to Ellie’s place to check out the problem. I calculated from memory that my aunt was about 68 at the time and Ellie was a little older by two or three years I reckoned. Ellie, while she was no Olympic athlete at her age, was not your typical frail little old lady. She was reasonably tall, solidly built but not overweight and her solid build made her good sized tits fit right in with her general demeanour. She had a good head of white silver grey hair but I had seen her with the ubiquitous blue rinse in it on occasion that was so in vogue back then. She was as I say was about 70 and I was in my mid twenties. I strode out the front door before I realized that Ellie wasn’t as fast on her feet as I was and so I slowed down and we strolled down to her place. We entered through the gate of the white picket fence, up the short path bordered on either side by immaculately kept flower beds and into her house that was equally well kept.
It didn’t strike me that this woman would have anything broken in this house as it was too perfect. We proceeded through to the dining room and she pointed out a light fitting where she couldn’t get the globe to stay in place. I said I would use a chair to get up to see if I could fix the offending fitting but she said she had a ladder that she had brought in and used to inspect the fitting already and it was lying in the hallway. I bent over to pick the ladder up and she put her hand on my butt and ran it over both of my buns. I figured she was steadying herself as she squeezed past me in the hallway and had placed her hand by mistake. I picked the ladder up, pretended that nothing happened and positioned it under the light fitting. Her cleavage was easily on display and being a randy young fella, my gaze immediately snapped onto the target for a good old perve. I looked at any and all tits that became available to me at that age, even little old ladies’ tits. I looked down at her and then down at her tits when she looked away as I spoke to her. With hindsight, I think she knew I was looking at her tits and just kept on talking about the job anyway. I have seen that look on women since, when they are putting their tits on display, be it with a low cut top, a tactically undone blouse button or even a fully filled tank top. They look away to give the bloke a good eyeful, bless ‘em. Mind you, having said that it is also probably good for their ego as well.
I climbed up this rickety old ladder to inspect the light fitting more closely and she ran her hand up my leg onto my thigh stopping just before the bottom of my shorts as if to steady me. “Are you ok?” she enquired. I replied in the affirmative and continued with my inspection. What with the sight of her tits fresh in my mind and her hand on my thigh, my tool was stiffening up rapidly and straining to escape from my shorts to avoid being crushed by my tight short shorts. I dearly wanted to adjust it but the situation didn’t really allow for that and so I pressed on. I remember that I was both conscious of and afraid of the possibility of a wet spot showing through the front of my shorts as I could feel the pre-cum wetness of my foreskin moving about on my knob in my undies already. It was dark up there halfway up the ladder and as I moved to get a better look at the fitting the ladder moved prompting me to grab the wall and her to move her hand to grab my shorts. More specifically the front of my shorts and due to the haste and urgency of the situation the sausage shaped bulge in the front of them. I remember blurting out an indignant (probably false) “what are you doing!?” as she quickly removed her hand from the bulge in my shorts that was my genitalia. There was a very awkward silence when she broke the ice by saying “oh, go on! You love me doing that.” With a neutral look on her face probably due to not knowing how all of this was going to go. There was seemingly an eternity of silence that was probably only a few seconds as I frantically fought for the right thing to say and to reason the horny situation at the same time. Should I continue with the indignant approach or dive in and go for it. My hormones charged to the front and I told her (admitting to my lust) with a slight smile that she was right and that I would love her to do that again, thrusting my hips out (still standing perilously on the ladder don’t forget) and thus presenting the sausage shaped bulge in my short to her for her for further attention. I still remember that little old lady smile (that was hiding the lecherous cougar) as her hand clamped gently over my bulge and slowly squeezed and massaged it as I struggled to not loose my balance, bracing myself with hands on either wall in the (thankfully) narrow hallway. I don’t suppose I can say that was one of the best hand jobs I ever had, but it was certainly the most exciting considering that this woman was one of my aunt’s besties. The chance of her telling my aunt was risky but lust and the urgency of loosing this chance of having my tool and balls fondled by a woman, especially one of her senior years and probable experience overrode that risk. I’d like to say that I considered all of this but in actual fact I was just a randy young fella and I wanted my tool played with. Her manipulation of my tool was all too brief and after squeezing and pulling along its length albeit through my shorts she released it. She retired up the hallway to the kitchen, instructing me as she disappeared that after I had seen to the light fitting she would have a cup of tea waiting. I have to say that cups of tea weren’t really at the forefront of my mind but hey, guys take what they can get in those situations when sex is involved. After I gathered my thoughts, I climbed down off the ladder. I quickly pulled out my tool and using the bottom of my shirt I wiped the pre-cum off the inside of my by now awash undies, wiped my knob and pulled the foreskin back over it before depositing it back into my undies and did up my shorts. As she clinked about with cups in the kitchen she enquired as to the status of the light fitting. Jolted back to reality and with now dry but still pre-cum sticky fingers, I continued my I inspection and ascertained that the fitting was cracked (an ancient Bakelite fitting, notorious for breaking due to overheating and age) and a piece had fallen out which was why the light bulb wouldn’t stay in place.
Having finished my inspection of the light fitting I carried the ladder out the back for her. When I arrived back in the kitchen she asked me if I would like that cup of tea now and I accepted. I was still thinking about that groping and musing on how good it felt now that I had a chance to calm down. “Do you have a girl friend?” she asked. I answered yes and sat down at the table as she busied herself at the sink with the cups and kettle. I actually hadn’t had a girl friend for some months from memory and I was randy as hell and would have rooted a lubed up knothole in a tree if one had been handy. I perved at her large tits as she turned in profile and reached up to get something out of an overhead cupboard. “I thought you would have” she replied. “a handsome fellow like you”. I’m sorry I slipped when you were on the ladder. I didn’t mean to grab your parts. I hope you won’t tell your aunt. That was fine with me and I assured her that I wouldn’t. She said something like “that’s good, it will be our little secret”.
“Parts?” a very genteel and little old ladyish way of talking I suppose. I didn’t know where to look, inexperience once again. I composed myself and in an effort to promote the situation and possible have her grope me again, I told her that I certainly did like being felt up but it was a surprise and she was after all, well….then she interjected “old enough to be your mother?”. “Well, yes” I replied “and people of your generation and sex don’t go together in my mind”. She smiled and chuckled and said in her quiet little voice “Where do you think you came from? Your parents must have made love” she said in an understanding little old lady tone.
That was true of course but it wasn’t something I had even thought about let alone dwelled on for any time and now she was making me think about it. As a relatively naïve 25 year old the thought of my father doing the nasty to my mother was horrifying let alone my mother doing “whatever” to my father to get him excited. I guess there is nothing new under the sun but youth has the arrogance of thinking that they invented everything in that department. The whole thing was making me dizzy, I felt like sticking my fingers in my ears and going “la, la, la, la” until I stopped thinking about it but that only works when someone is talking to you, not if you are thinking unthinkables yourself! Then I started to wonder if my father pulled out and blew his load all over my tits (a technique a mate of mine had told me about). Aaaaagh! I thought about my mothers tits in a sexual way and my father’s donga as well and semen shooting out of it!!! Was the knob that purple colour and tight skinned and shiny as mine was? Was it a mighty cock with a veiny shaft like mine. Did his hot semen spurt like a jet, splattering on my mother chest much to her delight? Good grief, such horny albeit disrespectful thoughts. I’ll be struck down by a lightning bolt or some other pestilence will befall me. But then again, did my mother swallow? Eeew! I seem to remember she had reasonably sized tits, nothing compared with my aunt’s though, but she was a little on the heavy side whereas my mother had a good figure. Aaaaagh! there I go again. I have been thinking about my mother’s figure in the past without realizing it. I wondered what my aunt’s tits were like naked. Did my father have a big tool when it was angry? Did he have big balls and did my mother like playing with them? Did he like her playing with them? Did she teabag him? Did he have a big knob? Did he like my mother’s mouth wrapped around it? These were all questions now racing through my head thanks to Ellie and her wandering hands.
A week passed and I showed up as arranged to fix her light fitting and her. I didn’t involve my aunt and knocked on Ellie’s door and she welcomed me in. Still nothing was said about any improprieties that occurred last week on my first visit. She asked if I wanted a cup of tea first which I declined and told her that I would like to get the job finished first in case there were any problems and then perhaps we could have a cuppa.
I brought the ladder in from her backyard, moved it into position and sure enough her hand was once again on my leg as I climbed up to the light fitting. This time her hand moved to inside between my legs and eventually up under my crotch and felt the bulge between my legs, which I have to admit was very pleasant. My heart was pounding as I tried to concentrate on the light fitting.
Luckily I had had the good sense to remember to turn the power off which was just as well as the likelihood of sex is very distracting for me even today.
I looked down at her very briefly but I didn’t want her to stop groping me and if I said anything she might respond by removing her hand and so I looked back up at the job and shut up. I opened my legs slightly and felt down for her hand and pushed it harder onto my bulge. She chuckled and responded by squeezing with a pulsating kneading action which was excellent. The phone rang and she went to answer it, sadly (for me at least) removing her hand as she did so. I had mixed feelings at that point. I was somewhat relieved as I couldn’t concentrate on the job with the her hand on my balls but on the other hand, it was pleasant having her massaging my cluster as she was very good at it. I finished the job which didn’t take long and climbed down just as she returned from answering the phone. I was sure her tits were more exposed than when she left or maybe I was imagining it. Anyway she told me to come into the kitchen and she would make me a cuppa and she had scones. The ones I used to like so much. I did?
By the time I had turned the power back on, checked that the fitting worked with a light bulb and returned to the kitchen, I could smell the heated scones as I approached. She put my tea on the table in front of me and went back and brought the plate of scones over for me to take one and accidently knocked my tea over which ran, seemingly in slow motion as I watched it, along the table and into my lap. She apologized profusely and told me to take my shorts off and she would sponge and iron them dry for me. I told her it was ok they would dry by themselves, dopey young twit that I was. She felt my lap and between my legs for the dampness caused by the tea and of course felt my cock and balls as well, dwelling there for a very pleasant few seconds and then insisted she dry my pants for me. She said that I shouldn’t be shy and that I didn’t have anything she hadn’t seen before. I took my shorts off and paraded around in just my budgie smugglers and T shirt. I made sure the budgie smugglers weren’t pulled up tight and that my cluster was really bulging out there. I sat in one of the kitchen chairs and slouched back to display my gentials, quickly checking out my bulge when she looked away, relieved that my tee shirt didn’t cover it. Vainly I could make out my cock lying sideways and my balls were filling out the bottom of the package. She sneaked quite a few glances at the bulge between my legs but to be fair I kept talking to her tits so we were even. She sponged my shorts off and quickly ironed them dry.
She held out the now dry pants to me and I went to take them. She pulled them back playfully and holding them behind her back she wandered up until her breasts pressed into my body. She tilted her head back, stared down at me, took a hold of my undies clad bulge and smiling a devilish grin, chuckled to herself as she asked me “oh, are these wet as well?” as she fondled my gear. I opened my legs slightly and unashamedly pushed my hips out to give her better access as she groped on relentlessly rolling my nuts around in her tiny hand. As I peered down I could see the knob was peeping out the top of my undies. I couldn’t restrain myself. I pulled the front of my undies down, hooking them under my balls, took her hand and dropped my engorged tool, sticky with pre-cum into it. After observing all of this, her gaze looked back up into my face with a smile and she pulled away on my hot throbbing tool. I held her tits in turn and ran my hand down the soft skin of her shoulders and arm in the pretext of steadying myself as she worked on me, whereas, in reality, I just liked the feel of her body. I just like the feel of a woman’s body and skin. It’s a hobby that persists to this day.
Back to my hand job, her hand rippled over the veins on the sticky shaft and I could hear the wet squishing sound of the foreskin slipping back and forth over the knob. It was an exquisite feeling and she smiled as she saw me enjoying the moment as she toiled away, my sac flapping back and forth as she pulled me reasonably violently.
Nothing was said. I put my hand on the top of one breast. It was so soft. She held my hand on her breast and encouraged me to squeeze it until I got the idea and squeezed and slid my fingers down the side of it into her bra and took a good handful of her sizeable tit. Without missing a stroke of my tool, she pulled her bra down exposing it fully and I pulled the other cup down exposing her other tit. There they were in all their grand enormousness. They were excellent to say the least. Little old lady tits but they were big and full. I stood and stepped behind her, my chin over the top of her head and reached down and felt the weight of both of them and jiggled them up and down playfully. She reached behind her back and took hold of my tool again to resume her pulling and chuckled a little as I amused myself with her melons. It was like holding two large, short, soft, sausages about five inches in diameter and about 6 inches long, ending in large areolas and slightly proud nipples but not exceptionally so. Her tits were too long for my hands to hold completely and the front of each of them dangled out the front of my grip, full and firm due to my squeezing. The areolas had those Montgomery gland pimple thingies on them and were stretched tight over the front of her tits as I squeezed them.
I am so grateful that nature has allowed guys to think that feeling a woman’s bits is soooo good. As I played I was thrusting into her hand, the knob hitting her back just over the top of her arse. I released one of her tits and slid my hand up under her skirt and into her pants and felt her hairy mound, squeezing and running my fingers through her hairs and into her hot wet hole before exploring her crack and massaging her clit. Her “oooing” and “aaahing” ceased briefly before guiding my errant finger back onto her clit. We were having a lovely time (or I certainly was and she sounded like she was) when our fooling around was interrupted by a voice at the front door, only thirty feet away from where our horny raunchery was taking place. We both froze and she answered. It sounded like my aunt (my mind went for the worst case scenario) but it might have been a friend of hers just passing and wanted to chat. I wasn’t taking any chances of my aunt catching me with Ellie and me having to explain myself. I don’t think very well on my feet. I hitched up my pants, raced out the back door and disappeared over the six foot back paling fence (I could scale paling fences back then. Ahh, youth is wasted on the young.) and into the small lane that ran along the back of her (and my Aunt’s) house. Looking back over the fence quickly to see Ellie giving a quiet, little old lady wave and a bemused smile as she retired in to answer the front door. Talk about coitus interruptus, although we didn’t get to coitus so it was more “debauchery interruptus” I suppose. All in all, the episode was exciting and exhilarating as I am sure my heart was racing.
The weeks passed and being the randy young weed that I was, I couldn’t wait to get back to see my little old lady’s tits and snatch and excite myself to an orgasm or two. I decided to call in on the chance that she would be there as she didn’t have a phone. My aunt didn’t have a phone either; they weren’t that common back then. My folks had a phone but that was because we had a business run from home, I am not sure whether we would have necessarily have had one if we hadn’t. Anyway she wasn’t home and so I wandered down to my Aunt’s place and she WAS home. She trotted out the usual tea and biscuits and eventually (I didn’t want to ask directly just to avoid any suspicion) she mentioned that Ellie was at some gathering or other that she did regularly on that day of the week and so after a few subtle questions I gleaned that Ellie was usually at home on Tuesdays and Thursdays. My aunt was no dummy and I often wondered over the years whether she suspected anything. After all why would I be so interested in what days Ellie was home? I would have been embarrassed out of sight if they had discussed Ellie and my indulgences and if my Aunt had asked questions like does he have a big “thingy” and whatever chics (albeit older chics in this case) talked about over tea and biscuits. I wonder what they called “thingies” back then.
I fronted around to Ellie’s place on the next Tuesday or Thursday, I can’t remember, and she was there. She answered the door with a surprised look on her face and I said hello. She replied with an equally brief hello accompanied now by a curious, almost annoyed, as in “what do you want?”, look on her face. Wanting to avoid being observed by anyone from the street and mostly being driven by what my mind had in store for Ellie’s body, I brushed past her somewhat presumptuously and rudely and she shut the door quickly behind me. I proceeded up the long semi detached house type hallway, past the light fitting and stopped when it opened out into the lounge room. “I really liked you playing with me last time” I said in an uncomfortable sort of way and just for something to say I think. “Oh yes?” she replied in her gentle and neutral (not aggressive) little old lady voice and with her lovely little smile that didn’t have an ounce of lust in it. She actually knew exactly what I wanted but with her somewhat neutral look, I was beginning to wonder whether she had actually pulled my tool or if it was one of my many wet dreams. I decided to throw caution to the wind and so I reached out and took hold of her tits. She didn’t say anything but just looked down at my hands on her tits, then back up to my face and then (much to my relief) she just held my hands on her tits briefly, “well, I think I know what you want” but not in a vampish sexy way but more of a friendly “let me fix your problem” way of assisting her man (me in this case) and proceeded to use my hands to massage her breasts. A wave of relief swept over me as I thought I might have been shown the door prior to her statement. She removed her hands from mine, pulled away from my grasping maulers, sat and reclined back on the lounge. She then lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers aside to reveal her hairy snatch. She had gone from quaint little old lady to teasing slut with a hairy twat in micro seconds. My eyes immediately locked onto her box as she sluttishly spread her legs.
This played with my head. The older generation couldn’t have been that sexually bad and yet as the saying goes, “there’s nothing new under the sun.” Somewhere in all of this lusting I must have unzipped and pulled out my tool almost unconsciously as I certainly didn’t remember doing it but nevertheless there it was in my hand and I was pulling on it as I stared, wide eyed and spoke to her. Those opening legs nearly had me passing out with lust. Even as I talked to her I wasn’t looking her in the face. I was mesmerised. When I finally looked up, the look on her face was now one of desire as she wallowed in me looking solely at her twat. The animal in me took over. I dropped my cock and leaving it to its own devices to swing about as it dangled out of my fly, I pulled at her knickers and she bounced her arse up and down until I wrenched them off (I even surprised myself with my boldness. Animal lust and sexually desire will do that) and she spread her legs wide again and parted her twat lips for me with her fingers. I had my fingers inside her in a flash which had her gasping in a deep breath and grabbing of the arm of the lounge. I didn’t know whether the gasp was one of pleasure or displeasure and so I stopped my fingering but she desperately grabbed and held my hand in place moving it and my fingers in and out of her hole. That gesture was all I needed to know and I went into frenzy mode punching my fingers and fist into her nicely padded little old lady vagina. Little old lady she might have been but her twat was disproportionally large, it was more of a gash and a fairly large gash at that. It might have been the hair around it that made it look so large. She had slid down a little but still had her arms supporting herself on each arm of the chair and had that fiendish look of “use me” on her face as she presented her snatch up to me.
The cleavage of her large, old lady tits was clearly visible through the slightly open top of her blouse as they wallowed about, in sync with and due to the assault of my fingers penetrating her slippery warm hole. I stopped and ripped open her blouse (I remember a button flew through the air) to reveal her lightly freckled tits rippling about in their bra. Today I would have stopped to lick them, scoop them out and suck on her nipples but I was just a dumb horny young bloke and her twat was the priority. She had that “take me now” tinge to her somewhat pained but pleasurable smile. I ceased my twat pounding, stripped off in the obscenely frantic hurry of a young man and stood there naked, my tool dangling out and down sagging under its own weight as I opened my own legs slightly to proudly show off my tool and balls that I could feel swinging about in the breeze. I don’t know what she thought. I was a skinny young bloke, no chest to speak of, very few sexy muscles and so I can only imagine what I looked like standing before her naked in the middle of her lounge room. She had probably had many men much bigger built than I was in her life time but whatever she thought she managed not to laugh or even smile a condescending smile.
She had by this time tired of waiting for me and busied herself fingering her clit with one hand and feeling up her tit with the other. Her hand rubbed and fondled over her large tit stopping briefly to pinch her nipple before continuing on to fondle the other breast, her head tossing from side to side as she pleasured herself switching from tit to tit and fingering her clit. The size of her tit was such that she could reach the nipple which she did as it peeped out of the top of her bra, flicking it with her tongue. I can’t remember if she sucked on it but I would have if the rolls were reversed. I have often regretted not being able to reach my knob to suck myself off. It is probably just as well as I would have sucked myself unconscious on any number of occasions had I been able to. As it is I have made my knob sore so many times over the years due to my obsession with pulling myself that I have had to abstain until it healed up enough for me to resume my self pleasuring. But I digress.
I pulled on my tool as I watched her writhing around. I could feel my balls swinging back and forth (I widened my stance to enable them freedom to do so. And they say women are show offs!) and flailing about as I laid into my tool as if it deserved to suffer as I waited. It had turned rock hard in my stroking hand egged on by her moaning and seemingly suffering as she pleasured herself. I surveyed the gash beckoning to me from between her wide spread legs. The size of her hair covered mound was so horny and she was subconsciously thrusting it out to me as she writhed and slid about on the lounge cushions. My own groin area of rampant cock and balls seemed drawn to her genitals as they, with a mind of their own wanted to plunge deep inside her.
She had a side board in the lounge room and it had a mirror back that I remember seeing myself in as I stood there. As I said, I was so skinny back then, no arse to speak of, just a skinny young lust driven bloke, white skin, not much of a chest and with an excess of hormones going crazy. I can’t really see what she saw in me. I think she just wanted to fuck and I happened to be there.
I stepped in, hooked my arms in under the thighs of her legs, pulled her down to lie flat on the lounge and she held on to the lounge as I placed her in position to root. I took hold of my tool and pulled on it as I tried to work out how to get it down to her snatch on this low lounge. She paused to unclip her bra and released her tits and while still pulling myself with one hand, with the other, I took advantage of the opportunity to grab a handful of twat and crush it, mercilessly several times as I waited for her to finish with her underwear. Her bra fell away leaving her tits to flow out flattened slightly. The large areolas were slightly darker than the surrounding flesh and the nipples now proud due to her pinching and licking them to erection. She spread her legs as wide as she could to show off the hairy and now gaping, empty and available-to-fuck, gash between her legs, wallowing in her own absolute randiness, the fact that I lusted after her and that I was concentrating so hard and so driven in my task of fucking her into the middle of next week.
I knelt one leg between hers on the cushion of the old fashioned tapestry lounge, leant forward, placed one hand on the top of the back of the lounge and tried to guide my tool inside her with the other. I overbalanced and nearly fell on top of her. She briefly chuckled at my animal lust driven awkwardness and helped out at that point taking hold of my tool and guiding the knob to her opening after which I pressed it, up to the hilt, into her warm wet hole with an overwhelming satisfaction that flooded over me. I felt the base of my tool pressing up against her hairy pussy lips and squashing into them but I was possessed with that feeling that I just couldn’t get far enough into her, such was the animal lusting for fucking her that drove me. I don’t think she had heard about shaving her twat or even if they did that sort of thing back then in her time. I couldn’t really talk though as I had a fairly big bush of pubic hair hiding the base of my cock. They were the days before I regularly shaved my pubes for that clean look.
As I thrust in and out a few times and I could hear her pussy getting wet as our bits made that lovely squishing sound and I could see my cock was glistening with our juices, every time it reappeared from her hole. I watched fascinated with and peering down at our genitals.
She eventually asked me to change positions as I was too heavy and so I suggested I do her from behind. I helped her as she struggled to her feet. She turned around, bent over and spread her legs to an open stance presenting her arse up to me and put her hands on the lounge cushions.
I nearly lifted her off the ground with my first merciless thrust, knocking her off balance which prompted a little old lady “oooo” and made her giggle slightly, but she recovered and after I enquired if she was ok she just said “yes, just keep going!” in her quiet little old lady way that had a slight desperate longing tone to it. So I did, pounding onto her mercilessly. The oohing and aaahing now had that slightly concerned sound to them but I couldn’t help humping mercilessly into her. The lounge was squeaking as she held onto the arm desperately for support. I could see her tits hanging and wobbling about so I reached under and played with them. They were magnificent, as they dangled down. I was able to get good handfuls that felt so horny. My hands were nowhere near big enough and the surplus tit overflowed out of each hand with each desperate attempt to engulf them. As much as I was enjoying those tits, I wasn’t doing my cock justice and really wanted to root into her. I stood upright, held her hips and pulled her to my groin, driving my hips and tool into her, slapping into her buns violently. The sweat was forming on my forehead, with the occasional drop managing to run down into my eyes. I had to slow down. I bent over her, lying along her back, grasping her tits and resumed driving my hips into her. After a while she must have been tiring too and she pushed me off. She stood up and my tool fell out of her and dangled down not rock hard erect but still fully engorged like some disgusting sausage with a glistening purple coloured knob on the end that our combined juices dripped off in a viscous dangling strand. I left the strand of goo to itself as I waited to see what she had in mind. She took me by the hand and led me patiently down the carpeted hallway and into her bedroom.
There were photos on the side table and one of a man which was probably her hubby (he had died some time ago when I was much younger and I couldn’t really remember what he looked like) and then another of them together. I’d like to say there was one of them with him doing her doggie style but alas there wasn’t. We stood facing each other and she reached forward and felt between my legs for my scrotum and rolled my nuts around in her hand as she looked up into my face. Her tits were still partially tantalizingly covered by her loose, undone blouse. She removed her blouse and stood there naked from the waist up. She had a little roll of fat that drooped over the top of her skirt. Her tits were magnificently large, sagging a little because of their weight and she was a little old lady after all and those nipples!!! I tried to undo the buttons on the side of her skirt but she took over and just slipped it down over her hips, let it fall to the ground and stepped out of it, revealing her hairy snatch framed by that little vee shape her slightly chubby thighs made between her legs. I was getting excited and I impatiently wanted to get inside her again.
About now I noticed that this room was the front room of the house and as such the window opened onto the street. It was set back from the street by ten or so feet of lawn (it was one of those small inner city semidetached houses) but even so I was so turned on by the fact that anyone passing could see in (including my Aunt) and also by the fact that Ellie didn’t seem to mind or perhaps hadn’t thought about it. The heavy curtains were pulled back and she made no effort to pull them closed. To be fair, it was fairly bright outside and relatively dark in her bedroom and so providing we weren’t standing up against the window, which was unlikely, then no one could really see us through the lace curtains, but it was titillating nevertheless.
It reminds me of a woman I used to see from AMM a few years ago now. She used to retire to the front curtains at my place (and a motel we once visited) after we had been rooting during the day and, still stark naked, stand at the window and pull back the curtains showing off her naked tits and lovely bald box for all the neighbourhood to see if they happened to be passing at the time. She had/has a nice body and so if I had been the particular someone passing, I definitely would have quickly returned to have a good old perve before she pulled the curtains back.
Ellie’s house was a similar layout to my Aunt’s house and I know that people used to yell out hello to her (my Aunt) from the street as they passed as they knew she used to sit behind the curtains in the front room and knit or read her book or just ambush any person for a chat who happened to walk past. A bit of a sticky beak my aunt. So the fact that I was about to do Ellie just feet from the passing parade on the street brought out the exhibitionist in me that exists to this day. The image of me busily doing Ellie doggie style and someone passing yelling out “hello Ellie”, ran though my mind. I had this vision of me standing there (with my throbbing meat buried in Ellie, bent over in the doggie position) like a kangaroo standing in the glare of a truck’s headlights just before it gets flattened by said truck. Fairly mind blowing especially if Ellie answered something like, “oh hello, sorry can’t talk now, being rooted doggie style by a young man forty years or so younger than I am who is hung like a horse as he has a tool about a foot long….(sorry, I’m dreaming now) and I wish he would get back to brutalizing my little old lady twat with it.”
Ahem, back to naked Ellie. She ripped the blankets and top sheet off the bed and leaving bottom sheet in place, backed up and lay down on the bed on her back. She pushed herself back up the bed, her huge tits rolling back and forth as she did so and propped herself up on her elbows with her legs spread wide and her knees up making her hairy snatch gape, offering itself up to me. It was a gnarly hairy, old lady type gash and I just had to plunge my tool into it. I hooked my arms under her thighs and dragged her arse to the edge of the bed, preparing to take her as I stood at the end of the bed and between her legs but she moved herself back again and beckoned me to get on top of her. She told me later that she likes a man to lie on top of her as she likes to feel his weight bearing down on her, for a short while anyway. My eyes shifted back to her gaping snatch. Any romantic pretence I was supposed to display went out the window and I climbed on top of her, fumbled with my tool and positioned it at her opening. She laughed at my eagerness to mount her and grabbing both of my buns; she pulled my arse between her gaping legs as my tool sank deep into her warm depths. I supported myself on my hands and looked down at my tool slopping around in her twat and then back up at her face framed by her salt and pepper grey hair which wasn’t quite as neat as it was when I arrived, she had her eyes shut and her mouth open and threw her head back as she winced in pain or ecstatic lust I wasn’t sure, which seemed to pass I think after the first few thrusts as we rocked back and forth. I looked up over her head and there was the photo of her husband looking down at us as I rammed my tool into her up to the hilt again and again.
I drove myself into her, her hole easily consuming my whole tool and probably would have accommodated my balls as well if I could have arranged it; such was the size of her gash. My tool just didn’t feel big enough, still she seemed to be enjoying it and writhed around emitting the usual oos and ahhs and a few little old lady ohs! at different times as I rooted in at different angles for a bit of variation. Her tits were rolling back and forth as I shunted into her and despite being forty or so years younger than her I had to eventually fall off her and roll onto my side due to lack of energy. She rolled over into a spooning position with her back to me and held her leg up in the air to give me access to her vagina from behind. I took the hint, took hold of my tool and fished around for her hole again. Spooning is a much less energetic position I have found especially when I got older.
There was a convenient full length mirror at the side of her bed and in the gloom I could see the lips and hairs of her twat and my finger tips guiding my knob as I felt and fished for the lips of her hole. I could feel they were all running and slippery with our juices. Such a deliciously animalistic feeling. My tool laden fingertips eventually found her hole and I pressed my knob into it, pushing the shaft inexorably home. I left my fingers there to feel my shaft coursing back and forth in and out of her hole for a few thrusts and then took hold of her hips to give myself more purchase and power when I needed it and began a slow rooting action as we both rocked back and forth almost as one on the squeaky old bed. She reached over and put a hand on my arse as if to help thrust my tool into her or she might just have wanted to feel my arse. Her hand slipped into my arse crack and she grabbed hold of my arse cheek. I could feel her finger rimming my arse hole and then she pushed a finger tip in. I think I let out a sort of a loud sigh and nearly blew then and there. I took hold of a tit and squeezed it as I rammed up into her even harder. It turned out to be a good hand hold as I went into frenzy rooting mode pounding into her buns, driving my tool into her. I moved away from up against her back to try to get my hips into a doggie position (but lying on our sides) so I could ram my tool up into her harder in a sort of tee bone position, striving to release my jism into her. I thought we were both rocking back and forth almost as one, but then I realized it was the bed moving in unison with our bodies and it was squeaking something fierce.
I held onto any part of her body I could gain purchase on and went into a frenzy of fucking her, my groin slapping into her buns with all of the desperate force I could muster as I sensed I was getting low on energy. I could feel my orgasm was imminent and as long as my head didn’t explode I would get there. The bed was squeaking, our bodies were rocking back and forth; I held my breath, tensed up and with great release, I exploded my hot jism into her. She said afterwards that she felt my cum shoot inside her. I don’t know whether it was true but it was nice of her to say. One or two other women have said that since then but not lately. I think I have lost that power to blast my cum into anyone these days. Old age is a bitch! I am just glad that I get my endorphin blast these days. Aren’t we all?
After some final pathetically desperate hip thrusts as I didn’t want my rooting of her to stop, my dick fell out of her and I saw it flop down wimp like, (still at full length but flaccid) behind her buns and drape itself over my thigh still oozing our juices onto the bed. I rolled onto my back to have a little pant for a while. She looked over seemingly without a hair out of place, smiled and thanked me and asked if I would like a cup of tea. A little old lady to the end. If in doubt have a cuppa is the little old lady guild’s motto I am certain. It’s probably on the little old lady society coat of arms.
I dragged my clothes on and wandered out into the kitchen after a while and there she was making the tea fully dressed in her little old lady dress and hair as I said perfectly in place. We chatted for a while and I thanked her and departed.
I lost contact with Ellie and she must have passed away by now, but as you can see, she lives on in my memory.
I used to regularly visit my aging aunt to have a cuppa and a talk. She lived by herself and although she had a few friends who used to call in on her, none of our greater family (with the possible exception of her equally aged brother) used to visit her. So, being a good nephew, every few weeks I would drop in and let myself in, (as she wasn’t very mobile,) with the key left in a secret place known only to the privileged few of which I was one. Once inside I would walk through to where she usually sat in the rear of her house in a sunny spot. Quite often one of her friends would drop in when I was there and my aunt would proudly display her nephew (me) to them, telling them of my achievements. Sometimes it was positively embarrassing and I used to pray that none of them dropped in on the days I visited.
One of those unfortunate visiting days her neighbour from five or so houses down the street, called in. I knew this woman, she was a nice person and so it wasn’t the visit from hell seeing her once again. She had a way of looking you straight in the eyes which used to unnerve me at first, but I grew to accept and appreciate that particular aspect of her personality as it showed her interest in the other person (me in this case) unlike most people who are just waiting for you to stop talking before pitching in with their story or comment. I think it also reflected her intelligence. After the usual pleasantries and the following slightly uncomfortable silence, my aunt refreshingly said to me that this woman (her name was Ellie) needed something fixed in her house and would I have a look at it. I had had a nice talk with my Aunt up to that point and so Ellie and I left my aunt and went to Ellie’s place to check out the problem. I calculated from memory that my aunt was about 68 at the time and Ellie was a little older by two or three years I reckoned. Ellie, while she was no Olympic athlete at her age, was not your typical frail little old lady. She was reasonably tall, solidly built but not overweight and her solid build made her good sized tits fit right in with her general demeanour. She had a good head of white silver grey hair but I had seen her with the ubiquitous blue rinse in it on occasion that was so in vogue back then. She was as I say was about 70 and I was in my mid twenties. I strode out the front door before I realized that Ellie wasn’t as fast on her feet as I was and so I slowed down and we strolled down to her place. We entered through the gate of the white picket fence, up the short path bordered on either side by immaculately kept flower beds and into her house that was equally well kept.
It didn’t strike me that this woman would have anything broken in this house as it was too perfect. We proceeded through to the dining room and she pointed out a light fitting where she couldn’t get the globe to stay in place. I said I would use a chair to get up to see if I could fix the offending fitting but she said she had a ladder that she had brought in and used to inspect the fitting already and it was lying in the hallway. I bent over to pick the ladder up and she put her hand on my butt and ran it over both of my buns. I figured she was steadying herself as she squeezed past me in the hallway and had placed her hand by mistake. I picked the ladder up, pretended that nothing happened and positioned it under the light fitting. Her cleavage was easily on display and being a randy young fella, my gaze immediately snapped onto the target for a good old perve. I looked at any and all tits that became available to me at that age, even little old ladies’ tits. I looked down at her and then down at her tits when she looked away as I spoke to her. With hindsight, I think she knew I was looking at her tits and just kept on talking about the job anyway. I have seen that look on women since, when they are putting their tits on display, be it with a low cut top, a tactically undone blouse button or even a fully filled tank top. They look away to give the bloke a good eyeful, bless ‘em. Mind you, having said that it is also probably good for their ego as well.
I climbed up this rickety old ladder to inspect the light fitting more closely and she ran her hand up my leg onto my thigh stopping just before the bottom of my shorts as if to steady me. “Are you ok?” she enquired. I replied in the affirmative and continued with my inspection. What with the sight of her tits fresh in my mind and her hand on my thigh, my tool was stiffening up rapidly and straining to escape from my shorts to avoid being crushed by my tight short shorts. I dearly wanted to adjust it but the situation didn’t really allow for that and so I pressed on. I remember that I was both conscious of and afraid of the possibility of a wet spot showing through the front of my shorts as I could feel the pre-cum wetness of my foreskin moving about on my knob in my undies already. It was dark up there halfway up the ladder and as I moved to get a better look at the fitting the ladder moved prompting me to grab the wall and her to move her hand to grab my shorts. More specifically the front of my shorts and due to the haste and urgency of the situation the sausage shaped bulge in the front of them. I remember blurting out an indignant (probably false) “what are you doing!?” as she quickly removed her hand from the bulge in my shorts that was my genitalia. There was a very awkward silence when she broke the ice by saying “oh, go on! You love me doing that.” With a neutral look on her face probably due to not knowing how all of this was going to go. There was seemingly an eternity of silence that was probably only a few seconds as I frantically fought for the right thing to say and to reason the horny situation at the same time. Should I continue with the indignant approach or dive in and go for it. My hormones charged to the front and I told her (admitting to my lust) with a slight smile that she was right and that I would love her to do that again, thrusting my hips out (still standing perilously on the ladder don’t forget) and thus presenting the sausage shaped bulge in my short to her for her for further attention. I still remember that little old lady smile (that was hiding the lecherous cougar) as her hand clamped gently over my bulge and slowly squeezed and massaged it as I struggled to not loose my balance, bracing myself with hands on either wall in the (thankfully) narrow hallway. I don’t suppose I can say that was one of the best hand jobs I ever had, but it was certainly the most exciting considering that this woman was one of my aunt’s besties. The chance of her telling my aunt was risky but lust and the urgency of loosing this chance of having my tool and balls fondled by a woman, especially one of her senior years and probable experience overrode that risk. I’d like to say that I considered all of this but in actual fact I was just a randy young fella and I wanted my tool played with. Her manipulation of my tool was all too brief and after squeezing and pulling along its length albeit through my shorts she released it. She retired up the hallway to the kitchen, instructing me as she disappeared that after I had seen to the light fitting she would have a cup of tea waiting. I have to say that cups of tea weren’t really at the forefront of my mind but hey, guys take what they can get in those situations when sex is involved. After I gathered my thoughts, I climbed down off the ladder. I quickly pulled out my tool and using the bottom of my shirt I wiped the pre-cum off the inside of my by now awash undies, wiped my knob and pulled the foreskin back over it before depositing it back into my undies and did up my shorts. As she clinked about with cups in the kitchen she enquired as to the status of the light fitting. Jolted back to reality and with now dry but still pre-cum sticky fingers, I continued my I inspection and ascertained that the fitting was cracked (an ancient Bakelite fitting, notorious for breaking due to overheating and age) and a piece had fallen out which was why the light bulb wouldn’t stay in place.
Having finished my inspection of the light fitting I carried the ladder out the back for her. When I arrived back in the kitchen she asked me if I would like that cup of tea now and I accepted. I was still thinking about that groping and musing on how good it felt now that I had a chance to calm down. “Do you have a girl friend?” she asked. I answered yes and sat down at the table as she busied herself at the sink with the cups and kettle. I actually hadn’t had a girl friend for some months from memory and I was randy as hell and would have rooted a lubed up knothole in a tree if one had been handy. I perved at her large tits as she turned in profile and reached up to get something out of an overhead cupboard. “I thought you would have” she replied. “a handsome fellow like you”. I’m sorry I slipped when you were on the ladder. I didn’t mean to grab your parts. I hope you won’t tell your aunt. That was fine with me and I assured her that I wouldn’t. She said something like “that’s good, it will be our little secret”.
“Parts?” a very genteel and little old ladyish way of talking I suppose. I didn’t know where to look, inexperience once again. I composed myself and in an effort to promote the situation and possible have her grope me again, I told her that I certainly did like being felt up but it was a surprise and she was after all, well….then she interjected “old enough to be your mother?”. “Well, yes” I replied “and people of your generation and sex don’t go together in my mind”. She smiled and chuckled and said in her quiet little voice “Where do you think you came from? Your parents must have made love” she said in an understanding little old lady tone.
That was true of course but it wasn’t something I had even thought about let alone dwelled on for any time and now she was making me think about it. As a relatively naïve 25 year old the thought of my father doing the nasty to my mother was horrifying let alone my mother doing “whatever” to my father to get him excited. I guess there is nothing new under the sun but youth has the arrogance of thinking that they invented everything in that department. The whole thing was making me dizzy, I felt like sticking my fingers in my ears and going “la, la, la, la” until I stopped thinking about it but that only works when someone is talking to you, not if you are thinking unthinkables yourself! Then I started to wonder if my father pulled out and blew his load all over my tits (a technique a mate of mine had told me about). Aaaaagh! I thought about my mothers tits in a sexual way and my father’s donga as well and semen shooting out of it!!! Was the knob that purple colour and tight skinned and shiny as mine was? Was it a mighty cock with a veiny shaft like mine. Did his hot semen spurt like a jet, splattering on my mother chest much to her delight? Good grief, such horny albeit disrespectful thoughts. I’ll be struck down by a lightning bolt or some other pestilence will befall me. But then again, did my mother swallow? Eeew! I seem to remember she had reasonably sized tits, nothing compared with my aunt’s though, but she was a little on the heavy side whereas my mother had a good figure. Aaaaagh! there I go again. I have been thinking about my mother’s figure in the past without realizing it. I wondered what my aunt’s tits were like naked. Did my father have a big tool when it was angry? Did he have big balls and did my mother like playing with them? Did he like her playing with them? Did she teabag him? Did he have a big knob? Did he like my mother’s mouth wrapped around it? These were all questions now racing through my head thanks to Ellie and her wandering hands.
A week passed and I showed up as arranged to fix her light fitting and her. I didn’t involve my aunt and knocked on Ellie’s door and she welcomed me in. Still nothing was said about any improprieties that occurred last week on my first visit. She asked if I wanted a cup of tea first which I declined and told her that I would like to get the job finished first in case there were any problems and then perhaps we could have a cuppa.
I brought the ladder in from her backyard, moved it into position and sure enough her hand was once again on my leg as I climbed up to the light fitting. This time her hand moved to inside between my legs and eventually up under my crotch and felt the bulge between my legs, which I have to admit was very pleasant. My heart was pounding as I tried to concentrate on the light fitting.
Luckily I had had the good sense to remember to turn the power off which was just as well as the likelihood of sex is very distracting for me even today.
I looked down at her very briefly but I didn’t want her to stop groping me and if I said anything she might respond by removing her hand and so I looked back up at the job and shut up. I opened my legs slightly and felt down for her hand and pushed it harder onto my bulge. She chuckled and responded by squeezing with a pulsating kneading action which was excellent. The phone rang and she went to answer it, sadly (for me at least) removing her hand as she did so. I had mixed feelings at that point. I was somewhat relieved as I couldn’t concentrate on the job with the her hand on my balls but on the other hand, it was pleasant having her massaging my cluster as she was very good at it. I finished the job which didn’t take long and climbed down just as she returned from answering the phone. I was sure her tits were more exposed than when she left or maybe I was imagining it. Anyway she told me to come into the kitchen and she would make me a cuppa and she had scones. The ones I used to like so much. I did?
By the time I had turned the power back on, checked that the fitting worked with a light bulb and returned to the kitchen, I could smell the heated scones as I approached. She put my tea on the table in front of me and went back and brought the plate of scones over for me to take one and accidently knocked my tea over which ran, seemingly in slow motion as I watched it, along the table and into my lap. She apologized profusely and told me to take my shorts off and she would sponge and iron them dry for me. I told her it was ok they would dry by themselves, dopey young twit that I was. She felt my lap and between my legs for the dampness caused by the tea and of course felt my cock and balls as well, dwelling there for a very pleasant few seconds and then insisted she dry my pants for me. She said that I shouldn’t be shy and that I didn’t have anything she hadn’t seen before. I took my shorts off and paraded around in just my budgie smugglers and T shirt. I made sure the budgie smugglers weren’t pulled up tight and that my cluster was really bulging out there. I sat in one of the kitchen chairs and slouched back to display my gentials, quickly checking out my bulge when she looked away, relieved that my tee shirt didn’t cover it. Vainly I could make out my cock lying sideways and my balls were filling out the bottom of the package. She sneaked quite a few glances at the bulge between my legs but to be fair I kept talking to her tits so we were even. She sponged my shorts off and quickly ironed them dry.
She held out the now dry pants to me and I went to take them. She pulled them back playfully and holding them behind her back she wandered up until her breasts pressed into my body. She tilted her head back, stared down at me, took a hold of my undies clad bulge and smiling a devilish grin, chuckled to herself as she asked me “oh, are these wet as well?” as she fondled my gear. I opened my legs slightly and unashamedly pushed my hips out to give her better access as she groped on relentlessly rolling my nuts around in her tiny hand. As I peered down I could see the knob was peeping out the top of my undies. I couldn’t restrain myself. I pulled the front of my undies down, hooking them under my balls, took her hand and dropped my engorged tool, sticky with pre-cum into it. After observing all of this, her gaze looked back up into my face with a smile and she pulled away on my hot throbbing tool. I held her tits in turn and ran my hand down the soft skin of her shoulders and arm in the pretext of steadying myself as she worked on me, whereas, in reality, I just liked the feel of her body. I just like the feel of a woman’s body and skin. It’s a hobby that persists to this day.
Back to my hand job, her hand rippled over the veins on the sticky shaft and I could hear the wet squishing sound of the foreskin slipping back and forth over the knob. It was an exquisite feeling and she smiled as she saw me enjoying the moment as she toiled away, my sac flapping back and forth as she pulled me reasonably violently.
Nothing was said. I put my hand on the top of one breast. It was so soft. She held my hand on her breast and encouraged me to squeeze it until I got the idea and squeezed and slid my fingers down the side of it into her bra and took a good handful of her sizeable tit. Without missing a stroke of my tool, she pulled her bra down exposing it fully and I pulled the other cup down exposing her other tit. There they were in all their grand enormousness. They were excellent to say the least. Little old lady tits but they were big and full. I stood and stepped behind her, my chin over the top of her head and reached down and felt the weight of both of them and jiggled them up and down playfully. She reached behind her back and took hold of my tool again to resume her pulling and chuckled a little as I amused myself with her melons. It was like holding two large, short, soft, sausages about five inches in diameter and about 6 inches long, ending in large areolas and slightly proud nipples but not exceptionally so. Her tits were too long for my hands to hold completely and the front of each of them dangled out the front of my grip, full and firm due to my squeezing. The areolas had those Montgomery gland pimple thingies on them and were stretched tight over the front of her tits as I squeezed them.
I am so grateful that nature has allowed guys to think that feeling a woman’s bits is soooo good. As I played I was thrusting into her hand, the knob hitting her back just over the top of her arse. I released one of her tits and slid my hand up under her skirt and into her pants and felt her hairy mound, squeezing and running my fingers through her hairs and into her hot wet hole before exploring her crack and massaging her clit. Her “oooing” and “aaahing” ceased briefly before guiding my errant finger back onto her clit. We were having a lovely time (or I certainly was and she sounded like she was) when our fooling around was interrupted by a voice at the front door, only thirty feet away from where our horny raunchery was taking place. We both froze and she answered. It sounded like my aunt (my mind went for the worst case scenario) but it might have been a friend of hers just passing and wanted to chat. I wasn’t taking any chances of my aunt catching me with Ellie and me having to explain myself. I don’t think very well on my feet. I hitched up my pants, raced out the back door and disappeared over the six foot back paling fence (I could scale paling fences back then. Ahh, youth is wasted on the young.) and into the small lane that ran along the back of her (and my Aunt’s) house. Looking back over the fence quickly to see Ellie giving a quiet, little old lady wave and a bemused smile as she retired in to answer the front door. Talk about coitus interruptus, although we didn’t get to coitus so it was more “debauchery interruptus” I suppose. All in all, the episode was exciting and exhilarating as I am sure my heart was racing.
The weeks passed and being the randy young weed that I was, I couldn’t wait to get back to see my little old lady’s tits and snatch and excite myself to an orgasm or two. I decided to call in on the chance that she would be there as she didn’t have a phone. My aunt didn’t have a phone either; they weren’t that common back then. My folks had a phone but that was because we had a business run from home, I am not sure whether we would have necessarily have had one if we hadn’t. Anyway she wasn’t home and so I wandered down to my Aunt’s place and she WAS home. She trotted out the usual tea and biscuits and eventually (I didn’t want to ask directly just to avoid any suspicion) she mentioned that Ellie was at some gathering or other that she did regularly on that day of the week and so after a few subtle questions I gleaned that Ellie was usually at home on Tuesdays and Thursdays. My aunt was no dummy and I often wondered over the years whether she suspected anything. After all why would I be so interested in what days Ellie was home? I would have been embarrassed out of sight if they had discussed Ellie and my indulgences and if my Aunt had asked questions like does he have a big “thingy” and whatever chics (albeit older chics in this case) talked about over tea and biscuits. I wonder what they called “thingies” back then.
I fronted around to Ellie’s place on the next Tuesday or Thursday, I can’t remember, and she was there. She answered the door with a surprised look on her face and I said hello. She replied with an equally brief hello accompanied now by a curious, almost annoyed, as in “what do you want?”, look on her face. Wanting to avoid being observed by anyone from the street and mostly being driven by what my mind had in store for Ellie’s body, I brushed past her somewhat presumptuously and rudely and she shut the door quickly behind me. I proceeded up the long semi detached house type hallway, past the light fitting and stopped when it opened out into the lounge room. “I really liked you playing with me last time” I said in an uncomfortable sort of way and just for something to say I think. “Oh yes?” she replied in her gentle and neutral (not aggressive) little old lady voice and with her lovely little smile that didn’t have an ounce of lust in it. She actually knew exactly what I wanted but with her somewhat neutral look, I was beginning to wonder whether she had actually pulled my tool or if it was one of my many wet dreams. I decided to throw caution to the wind and so I reached out and took hold of her tits. She didn’t say anything but just looked down at my hands on her tits, then back up to my face and then (much to my relief) she just held my hands on her tits briefly, “well, I think I know what you want” but not in a vampish sexy way but more of a friendly “let me fix your problem” way of assisting her man (me in this case) and proceeded to use my hands to massage her breasts. A wave of relief swept over me as I thought I might have been shown the door prior to her statement. She removed her hands from mine, pulled away from my grasping maulers, sat and reclined back on the lounge. She then lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers aside to reveal her hairy snatch. She had gone from quaint little old lady to teasing slut with a hairy twat in micro seconds. My eyes immediately locked onto her box as she sluttishly spread her legs.
This played with my head. The older generation couldn’t have been that sexually bad and yet as the saying goes, “there’s nothing new under the sun.” Somewhere in all of this lusting I must have unzipped and pulled out my tool almost unconsciously as I certainly didn’t remember doing it but nevertheless there it was in my hand and I was pulling on it as I stared, wide eyed and spoke to her. Those opening legs nearly had me passing out with lust. Even as I talked to her I wasn’t looking her in the face. I was mesmerised. When I finally looked up, the look on her face was now one of desire as she wallowed in me looking solely at her twat. The animal in me took over. I dropped my cock and leaving it to its own devices to swing about as it dangled out of my fly, I pulled at her knickers and she bounced her arse up and down until I wrenched them off (I even surprised myself with my boldness. Animal lust and sexually desire will do that) and she spread her legs wide again and parted her twat lips for me with her fingers. I had my fingers inside her in a flash which had her gasping in a deep breath and grabbing of the arm of the lounge. I didn’t know whether the gasp was one of pleasure or displeasure and so I stopped my fingering but she desperately grabbed and held my hand in place moving it and my fingers in and out of her hole. That gesture was all I needed to know and I went into frenzy mode punching my fingers and fist into her nicely padded little old lady vagina. Little old lady she might have been but her twat was disproportionally large, it was more of a gash and a fairly large gash at that. It might have been the hair around it that made it look so large. She had slid down a little but still had her arms supporting herself on each arm of the chair and had that fiendish look of “use me” on her face as she presented her snatch up to me.
The cleavage of her large, old lady tits was clearly visible through the slightly open top of her blouse as they wallowed about, in sync with and due to the assault of my fingers penetrating her slippery warm hole. I stopped and ripped open her blouse (I remember a button flew through the air) to reveal her lightly freckled tits rippling about in their bra. Today I would have stopped to lick them, scoop them out and suck on her nipples but I was just a dumb horny young bloke and her twat was the priority. She had that “take me now” tinge to her somewhat pained but pleasurable smile. I ceased my twat pounding, stripped off in the obscenely frantic hurry of a young man and stood there naked, my tool dangling out and down sagging under its own weight as I opened my own legs slightly to proudly show off my tool and balls that I could feel swinging about in the breeze. I don’t know what she thought. I was a skinny young bloke, no chest to speak of, very few sexy muscles and so I can only imagine what I looked like standing before her naked in the middle of her lounge room. She had probably had many men much bigger built than I was in her life time but whatever she thought she managed not to laugh or even smile a condescending smile.
She had by this time tired of waiting for me and busied herself fingering her clit with one hand and feeling up her tit with the other. Her hand rubbed and fondled over her large tit stopping briefly to pinch her nipple before continuing on to fondle the other breast, her head tossing from side to side as she pleasured herself switching from tit to tit and fingering her clit. The size of her tit was such that she could reach the nipple which she did as it peeped out of the top of her bra, flicking it with her tongue. I can’t remember if she sucked on it but I would have if the rolls were reversed. I have often regretted not being able to reach my knob to suck myself off. It is probably just as well as I would have sucked myself unconscious on any number of occasions had I been able to. As it is I have made my knob sore so many times over the years due to my obsession with pulling myself that I have had to abstain until it healed up enough for me to resume my self pleasuring. But I digress.
I pulled on my tool as I watched her writhing around. I could feel my balls swinging back and forth (I widened my stance to enable them freedom to do so. And they say women are show offs!) and flailing about as I laid into my tool as if it deserved to suffer as I waited. It had turned rock hard in my stroking hand egged on by her moaning and seemingly suffering as she pleasured herself. I surveyed the gash beckoning to me from between her wide spread legs. The size of her hair covered mound was so horny and she was subconsciously thrusting it out to me as she writhed and slid about on the lounge cushions. My own groin area of rampant cock and balls seemed drawn to her genitals as they, with a mind of their own wanted to plunge deep inside her.
She had a side board in the lounge room and it had a mirror back that I remember seeing myself in as I stood there. As I said, I was so skinny back then, no arse to speak of, just a skinny young lust driven bloke, white skin, not much of a chest and with an excess of hormones going crazy. I can’t really see what she saw in me. I think she just wanted to fuck and I happened to be there.
I stepped in, hooked my arms in under the thighs of her legs, pulled her down to lie flat on the lounge and she held on to the lounge as I placed her in position to root. I took hold of my tool and pulled on it as I tried to work out how to get it down to her snatch on this low lounge. She paused to unclip her bra and released her tits and while still pulling myself with one hand, with the other, I took advantage of the opportunity to grab a handful of twat and crush it, mercilessly several times as I waited for her to finish with her underwear. Her bra fell away leaving her tits to flow out flattened slightly. The large areolas were slightly darker than the surrounding flesh and the nipples now proud due to her pinching and licking them to erection. She spread her legs as wide as she could to show off the hairy and now gaping, empty and available-to-fuck, gash between her legs, wallowing in her own absolute randiness, the fact that I lusted after her and that I was concentrating so hard and so driven in my task of fucking her into the middle of next week.
I knelt one leg between hers on the cushion of the old fashioned tapestry lounge, leant forward, placed one hand on the top of the back of the lounge and tried to guide my tool inside her with the other. I overbalanced and nearly fell on top of her. She briefly chuckled at my animal lust driven awkwardness and helped out at that point taking hold of my tool and guiding the knob to her opening after which I pressed it, up to the hilt, into her warm wet hole with an overwhelming satisfaction that flooded over me. I felt the base of my tool pressing up against her hairy pussy lips and squashing into them but I was possessed with that feeling that I just couldn’t get far enough into her, such was the animal lusting for fucking her that drove me. I don’t think she had heard about shaving her twat or even if they did that sort of thing back then in her time. I couldn’t really talk though as I had a fairly big bush of pubic hair hiding the base of my cock. They were the days before I regularly shaved my pubes for that clean look.
As I thrust in and out a few times and I could hear her pussy getting wet as our bits made that lovely squishing sound and I could see my cock was glistening with our juices, every time it reappeared from her hole. I watched fascinated with and peering down at our genitals.
She eventually asked me to change positions as I was too heavy and so I suggested I do her from behind. I helped her as she struggled to her feet. She turned around, bent over and spread her legs to an open stance presenting her arse up to me and put her hands on the lounge cushions.
I nearly lifted her off the ground with my first merciless thrust, knocking her off balance which prompted a little old lady “oooo” and made her giggle slightly, but she recovered and after I enquired if she was ok she just said “yes, just keep going!” in her quiet little old lady way that had a slight desperate longing tone to it. So I did, pounding onto her mercilessly. The oohing and aaahing now had that slightly concerned sound to them but I couldn’t help humping mercilessly into her. The lounge was squeaking as she held onto the arm desperately for support. I could see her tits hanging and wobbling about so I reached under and played with them. They were magnificent, as they dangled down. I was able to get good handfuls that felt so horny. My hands were nowhere near big enough and the surplus tit overflowed out of each hand with each desperate attempt to engulf them. As much as I was enjoying those tits, I wasn’t doing my cock justice and really wanted to root into her. I stood upright, held her hips and pulled her to my groin, driving my hips and tool into her, slapping into her buns violently. The sweat was forming on my forehead, with the occasional drop managing to run down into my eyes. I had to slow down. I bent over her, lying along her back, grasping her tits and resumed driving my hips into her. After a while she must have been tiring too and she pushed me off. She stood up and my tool fell out of her and dangled down not rock hard erect but still fully engorged like some disgusting sausage with a glistening purple coloured knob on the end that our combined juices dripped off in a viscous dangling strand. I left the strand of goo to itself as I waited to see what she had in mind. She took me by the hand and led me patiently down the carpeted hallway and into her bedroom.
There were photos on the side table and one of a man which was probably her hubby (he had died some time ago when I was much younger and I couldn’t really remember what he looked like) and then another of them together. I’d like to say there was one of them with him doing her doggie style but alas there wasn’t. We stood facing each other and she reached forward and felt between my legs for my scrotum and rolled my nuts around in her hand as she looked up into my face. Her tits were still partially tantalizingly covered by her loose, undone blouse. She removed her blouse and stood there naked from the waist up. She had a little roll of fat that drooped over the top of her skirt. Her tits were magnificently large, sagging a little because of their weight and she was a little old lady after all and those nipples!!! I tried to undo the buttons on the side of her skirt but she took over and just slipped it down over her hips, let it fall to the ground and stepped out of it, revealing her hairy snatch framed by that little vee shape her slightly chubby thighs made between her legs. I was getting excited and I impatiently wanted to get inside her again.
About now I noticed that this room was the front room of the house and as such the window opened onto the street. It was set back from the street by ten or so feet of lawn (it was one of those small inner city semidetached houses) but even so I was so turned on by the fact that anyone passing could see in (including my Aunt) and also by the fact that Ellie didn’t seem to mind or perhaps hadn’t thought about it. The heavy curtains were pulled back and she made no effort to pull them closed. To be fair, it was fairly bright outside and relatively dark in her bedroom and so providing we weren’t standing up against the window, which was unlikely, then no one could really see us through the lace curtains, but it was titillating nevertheless.
It reminds me of a woman I used to see from AMM a few years ago now. She used to retire to the front curtains at my place (and a motel we once visited) after we had been rooting during the day and, still stark naked, stand at the window and pull back the curtains showing off her naked tits and lovely bald box for all the neighbourhood to see if they happened to be passing at the time. She had/has a nice body and so if I had been the particular someone passing, I definitely would have quickly returned to have a good old perve before she pulled the curtains back.
Ellie’s house was a similar layout to my Aunt’s house and I know that people used to yell out hello to her (my Aunt) from the street as they passed as they knew she used to sit behind the curtains in the front room and knit or read her book or just ambush any person for a chat who happened to walk past. A bit of a sticky beak my aunt. So the fact that I was about to do Ellie just feet from the passing parade on the street brought out the exhibitionist in me that exists to this day. The image of me busily doing Ellie doggie style and someone passing yelling out “hello Ellie”, ran though my mind. I had this vision of me standing there (with my throbbing meat buried in Ellie, bent over in the doggie position) like a kangaroo standing in the glare of a truck’s headlights just before it gets flattened by said truck. Fairly mind blowing especially if Ellie answered something like, “oh hello, sorry can’t talk now, being rooted doggie style by a young man forty years or so younger than I am who is hung like a horse as he has a tool about a foot long….(sorry, I’m dreaming now) and I wish he would get back to brutalizing my little old lady twat with it.”
Ahem, back to naked Ellie. She ripped the blankets and top sheet off the bed and leaving bottom sheet in place, backed up and lay down on the bed on her back. She pushed herself back up the bed, her huge tits rolling back and forth as she did so and propped herself up on her elbows with her legs spread wide and her knees up making her hairy snatch gape, offering itself up to me. It was a gnarly hairy, old lady type gash and I just had to plunge my tool into it. I hooked my arms under her thighs and dragged her arse to the edge of the bed, preparing to take her as I stood at the end of the bed and between her legs but she moved herself back again and beckoned me to get on top of her. She told me later that she likes a man to lie on top of her as she likes to feel his weight bearing down on her, for a short while anyway. My eyes shifted back to her gaping snatch. Any romantic pretence I was supposed to display went out the window and I climbed on top of her, fumbled with my tool and positioned it at her opening. She laughed at my eagerness to mount her and grabbing both of my buns; she pulled my arse between her gaping legs as my tool sank deep into her warm depths. I supported myself on my hands and looked down at my tool slopping around in her twat and then back up at her face framed by her salt and pepper grey hair which wasn’t quite as neat as it was when I arrived, she had her eyes shut and her mouth open and threw her head back as she winced in pain or ecstatic lust I wasn’t sure, which seemed to pass I think after the first few thrusts as we rocked back and forth. I looked up over her head and there was the photo of her husband looking down at us as I rammed my tool into her up to the hilt again and again.
I drove myself into her, her hole easily consuming my whole tool and probably would have accommodated my balls as well if I could have arranged it; such was the size of her gash. My tool just didn’t feel big enough, still she seemed to be enjoying it and writhed around emitting the usual oos and ahhs and a few little old lady ohs! at different times as I rooted in at different angles for a bit of variation. Her tits were rolling back and forth as I shunted into her and despite being forty or so years younger than her I had to eventually fall off her and roll onto my side due to lack of energy. She rolled over into a spooning position with her back to me and held her leg up in the air to give me access to her vagina from behind. I took the hint, took hold of my tool and fished around for her hole again. Spooning is a much less energetic position I have found especially when I got older.
There was a convenient full length mirror at the side of her bed and in the gloom I could see the lips and hairs of her twat and my finger tips guiding my knob as I felt and fished for the lips of her hole. I could feel they were all running and slippery with our juices. Such a deliciously animalistic feeling. My tool laden fingertips eventually found her hole and I pressed my knob into it, pushing the shaft inexorably home. I left my fingers there to feel my shaft coursing back and forth in and out of her hole for a few thrusts and then took hold of her hips to give myself more purchase and power when I needed it and began a slow rooting action as we both rocked back and forth almost as one on the squeaky old bed. She reached over and put a hand on my arse as if to help thrust my tool into her or she might just have wanted to feel my arse. Her hand slipped into my arse crack and she grabbed hold of my arse cheek. I could feel her finger rimming my arse hole and then she pushed a finger tip in. I think I let out a sort of a loud sigh and nearly blew then and there. I took hold of a tit and squeezed it as I rammed up into her even harder. It turned out to be a good hand hold as I went into frenzy rooting mode pounding into her buns, driving my tool into her. I moved away from up against her back to try to get my hips into a doggie position (but lying on our sides) so I could ram my tool up into her harder in a sort of tee bone position, striving to release my jism into her. I thought we were both rocking back and forth almost as one, but then I realized it was the bed moving in unison with our bodies and it was squeaking something fierce.
I held onto any part of her body I could gain purchase on and went into a frenzy of fucking her, my groin slapping into her buns with all of the desperate force I could muster as I sensed I was getting low on energy. I could feel my orgasm was imminent and as long as my head didn’t explode I would get there. The bed was squeaking, our bodies were rocking back and forth; I held my breath, tensed up and with great release, I exploded my hot jism into her. She said afterwards that she felt my cum shoot inside her. I don’t know whether it was true but it was nice of her to say. One or two other women have said that since then but not lately. I think I have lost that power to blast my cum into anyone these days. Old age is a bitch! I am just glad that I get my endorphin blast these days. Aren’t we all?
After some final pathetically desperate hip thrusts as I didn’t want my rooting of her to stop, my dick fell out of her and I saw it flop down wimp like, (still at full length but flaccid) behind her buns and drape itself over my thigh still oozing our juices onto the bed. I rolled onto my back to have a little pant for a while. She looked over seemingly without a hair out of place, smiled and thanked me and asked if I would like a cup of tea. A little old lady to the end. If in doubt have a cuppa is the little old lady guild’s motto I am certain. It’s probably on the little old lady society coat of arms.
I dragged my clothes on and wandered out into the kitchen after a while and there she was making the tea fully dressed in her little old lady dress and hair as I said perfectly in place. We chatted for a while and I thanked her and departed.
I lost contact with Ellie and she must have passed away by now, but as you can see, she lives on in my memory.
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