Just the mood I’m in, thought I would expand our black old carer into helping another old man

“Shit! I nearly forgot,” moaned Ella Ringrow, driving away from one of her patient’s houses. She checked her mirror and completed an accomplished complete U turn in Chilbolton Avenue and sped in the opposite direction. The parade of shops wasn’t far and she hoped she’d secure a parking space in Olivers Battery, Winchester for her pale blue Skoda Citigo. She waved to dear old Mrs Febrille when she stopped the car at a pedestrian crossing in Romsey Road watching the obese, French woman with a return wave totter slowly in front of the small vehicle. “I bet she stinks as usual,” Ella smirked, driving off, not pitying whoever it was that cared for the 68 year old ex member of the Biarritz aristocracy now fallen on hard times. As it happened Romaine Febrille lived with her daughter, son in law and their four children and didn’t have a carer. They had provided a self contained apartment in the large detached house at the top of Sleepers Hill, a wealthy much sought after district in the expensive Hampshire city. Ella knew the old lady from the surgery where she often helped part time.

There was ample parking for a change and Ella strolled into Lloyds Pharmacy to find a queue at the prescription counter. She checked her wrist watch and stood in line. There was no sign of Ewan Singer, her favourite dealer ... he was her dealer, not just one of three qualified pharmacists dispensing only standard medication, but under the counter issues not to be recorded, served with a smile, a wink and invariably a quick shag against the counter. Being the manager of the huge retail outfit’s suburban outlet, he had become known to the redoubtable Ella Ringrow when attending a community rally and impressing her with his rich, tuneful voice during an anthem.

He had been initially attracted by her slender tall physique and athleticism ... at her age, when they had been involved volunteering in laying out the hundred or so chairs in the hall. It was just about early spring and she had shed her black and grey woolly overcoat, then her tartan patterned, over long knitted cardigan and worked in just a sliver of a highly colourful Caribbean patterned dress. In Ewan’s terms the dress was merely a wisp of thin silky substance, that clung to her nylon hosed legs ... it must have been the static effect of diverse materials, he assumed.

Yes it was still fearfully cold outside, making a few of the ladies nipples visible when they first discarded their coats and anoraks, but in the warmth of the hall, Ewan, if not a voyeur was nothing, latched on to Ella’s thimble like protrusions ... and the fact he could easily see she wasn’t wearing a brassiere. Her dark bronze shiny arms were bare from the short sleeves down and the scoop neck, while not low, showed him enough cleavage between her small knockers, always to excite him.

“Ah there you are Ewan,” Ella smiled as the short squat brown haired young Welshman appeared, ready to serve her, (she wanted serving). “I need that special prescription, you know,” she brandished a piece of paper, which looked the job but was black. “I’m sure you’ll have it in.” “Of course I’ll have it in Mrs Ringrow,” he replied with a wink and emphasis. “Come through here,” he relied lifting the counter and ushering her through to the consultation room, locking the door after her 59 year old shapely, wiggling butt passed through, adding as they brushed bodies, “I’ll make sure it’s in.”.

As she took off her pale blue carers smock, he removed his pristine white coat and loosened his flies. “There was no one about in the shop,” he giggled. “But it’s best if we go through all that crap to be safe,” he added, fondling Ella’s saggy small brown tits and not having to stoop too low for a small man to nibbled her buds. “Yes, better safe than sorry. Where is everyone ooohhh?” she queried. “Out back, delivery just arrived. S’pose I should be out there, but I was checking the documents when you arrived, saw you parking. They’ll manage ... These nipples are extraordinary Ella. Pure nuggets, they enhance you boobs so much. You say your daughter is blessed the same?” “Yeah ... oooohhhh! But Mamie’s are much bigger ... ohohoooo ... Fuck me Ewan...” She shifted from perched against the small desk, to slide higher, scattering some documents, a small box of pills and two Biro pens, while he dragged down her sensible black M&S panties, daring a sniff of the gusset to Ella’s rolled eyes and shake of her frizzy tousled head. Ella spread her slender legs, clad in black opaque crotchless tights, She had barely time to glimpse the 24 year old’s erection before he rammed it hard and full into her bald, meaty cunt.

Ella leaned back a little, which allowed the small squat, rugby playing hooker to feast on her teats, which grew stouter, covered in a mass of tiny wrinkles, the areolae full of minute blebs, denoting not the chill, but her arousal. The lack of foreplay didn’t bother the mature Caribbean woman, she’d been used to that all her married life, the main criteria had been to get a big fat cock lodged high in her minge and remain there ... as long as it was actively remaining. Cyrille, her deceased scaffolder husband at least was blessed with her main requirements and they’d produced a fine family, consisting of Ryan, Remy and Mamie.

“Ouucch! You bugger, careful boyo,” she chuckled. “They might look like walnuts but you can’t have them.” Ewan didn’t slobber a reply, he was near to climax and gasped with effort as he was on tiptoes, rutting at this amazing old lady, old enough to be his mother. His ancient sex partner knew she wouldn’t climax herself, it took a long time, but she revelled in the pure animal lust between Ewan and her and the occasional care client, needing cock as many time in the day ... and night as possible. He rocked back and forth arching back, watching the way her fat, grey/brown labia dragged in and out with each lunge. Her cunt lips were loose ... compared with his young wife’s but the old girl was certainly gagging for it and was he bothered? It was a hole. “Phew Ella, how the fuck do you do it? That was so cool, getting me to cum that quick,” he snickered, leaning against the desk as his cock subsided. “Years of practise Ewan. Have you told any of your team about this nigger chick that’s readily available?” she replied eagerly, grabbing a handful of tissues from the box on the desk and swabbing her very wet twat.

“Fuck no, I’m not sharing you with that bunch of reprobates,” he chuckled, wiping himself too, before sorting his clothing. He slapped Ella’s firm wrinkled brown butt as she bent to straighten her tights, then pull her knickers on. “I could take care of them no problem you kutch,” she swiped his fondling between her legs hand away. He had found the gap in her tights precisely what they were designed for. He giggled at her use of a bit of Welsh slang ... a nice bit. “That Mamie of yours is free yeah?” he asked, referring to Ella’s youngest, huge nipples on big tits in mind... “Yes but too busy with Cissy to have a relationship at the moment. The kid’s only 8 and demands mums ... Grandma’s taxi all the time, so many after school activities. That little Cissy’s going to be a stunner ... when she grows up,” she added quickly. “Well if she takes after her mum with big tits and her Grandma with big nipples ... oh yeah her mum too, I’ll just have to wait for her,” he chuckled. “Be an old man but so what, still fuck’em.”

“Hah! you’ll be lucky boyo. Tell you what though at her age, she’s got the most beautiful big nipples already. I’ve seen all ages in my job and Cissy’s are something awesome, I’ll tell you ... and talking of old men, I need more of that pill, the blue and white unlisted one you know. Got the next call at a chaps place, who is really tasty...” Ella trilled as he anticipated her request, sorted through a cupboard, sorted a pill, wrapped it and stuffed it in her thigh pocket. “Geroff Ewan, enough...” He stopped searching for her crotch though her pocket lining. They parted. Ewan watched her sedate exit from the shop and ease herself into her car, dreaming about a young girl with massive nipples.

Ella arrived at a similar mansion to Mrs Febrille’s and saw the note pinned on the rear door, the tradesman’s entrance. It read ; We have a visitor. Carry on as normal She used the key secreted in a special coded box and entered. The kitchen was immaculate as always as was the downstairs bathroom, next door to Mr Edmond’s bedroom. She relieved herself and stuffed her sensible black M&S pants in her hip pocket smiling at the pleasure ahead. Preparing his medication didn’t take long, four pills to be swallowed before food and one to be dispersed in a drop of water. She used the filtered water the family used for drinking purposes. There were no extraneous noises in the huge, still, Georgian residence, so wondering who the visitor or visitors could be, she entered Frank Edmond’s room.

“Good morning Frank, alright?” she trilled at the happy sight of the elderly, white haired, handsome man sat up smothered in newspapers. He smiled back, holding his hand up to delay any further conversation until her finished reading and article in The Times, He carefully folded the once broadsheet, now tabloid format newspaper and patted the top of the goose filled duvet. “Good morning to you too Ella. I’m fine thank you and much better for seeing you, you remembered?” The tall black woman perched alongside him, scuffing the pile of papers, which he swiftly removed.”Oh yes Frank, nearly forgot but here we are,” she chuckled, digging out and holding up a sliver of tissue taken out of her pocket. “Take it now, you’ve got some water,” she told him.

“Whose visiting then? Saw the note Mrs Edmonds left me ... some fancy woman of yours heh heh,” she chuckled, watching him swallow the blue and white pill with unseemly relish for taking pills. “I should be so lucky Ella. It’s our niece Tess, my brother’s youngest. She’s got interviews at the Uni and we wouldn’t hear of her staying somewhere else ... I mean...” he gestured through the big sash windows in the direction of the nearby campus. “You’ll like her ... if she gets up hah!” he snickered. She took the glass from his fine long fingers and cleared it to the table. She sorted a bowl of water, took things from a drawer, stuck a towel round his neck and started to wet shave Frank Edmonds, the senior orthopaedic consultant at Sarum Road private hospital.

Ella concentrated, studying the fine strong features of the highly paid, stricken down after a stroke surgeon. He had once treated her deceased husband Cyrille for a back problem on the small medical policy Cyrille’s firm allowed him and she remembered how kind and thoughtful Frank had been, recognising they hadn’t much money, scraped a living but were ... well Cyrille was, a pillar of the community with his youth football coaching, groundsman at the children’s playground and coffee maker and server at the old people’s home in Weeke. She stretched Frank’s loosening skin at his throat, removing the bristles and happy with the smoothness patted his face and neck with warm water and drying it. Ella’s shift dealing with Frank was at noon and she would make sure he had his lunch which she knew was prepared in the kitchen by the Edmond’s housekeeper Cath.

Cath was on her half day off after her morning stint. Margaret Edmonds would be at work as senior County hospital administrator and Frank would be left to his own devices for the day, under orders to take it easy. At 69 year old, the once fit, athletic surgeon was debilitated by the mild stroke that had occurred during one night two weeks previous, but was on a sure recovery and aimed to be back at work as soon as possible.

“Mrs Edmond’s OK?” Ella queried, plumping up his pillows. “In a minute...” she slapped his hand which was slapping her neat butt. “Oh yes you know, just the same, menopausal and all that. Make my life a misery sometimes, nagging, do this do that, you know. Very worried about her weight ... must admit,” he chuckled. “She’s getting chubby, as I’ve been told to call it ... call her. It’s fat Ella. She knows it and the children tell her. Tell you what - she’s not the fun sexy woman I married...” his hand roamed over the top of Ella’s slim hips. The tall slim black woman thought how could the Edmond children, one 20 the other 28 speak. Both overweight, living the good life courtesy of Daddy. Wasters, she mused. “Haven’t had it for weeks,” Frank guffawed. “Come on then.” He thrust his duvet down the bed, exposing his naked lower half and started to play with his todger. Ella slid her pale blue tunic up, kicked off her shoes and climbed on the bed. She squatted over his knees, stuffing the thick duvet further away under her and lay back allowing him a full on view of her mature black crotch. “Oh my!” he gasped. “That is one lovely cu ... coozy,” Frank cooed.

His hands were working away at his cock which had grown nearly to it’s fully extended seven, thick, uncut inches. They were both pleased with the effects of the pill, but the elderly carer, a real caring carer was a tad alarmed to hear of another of her experimental pill swallowing patients relapse and doubt of surviving – a nasty old German man. She stretched her cunt lips wide, the pink and red, sluicing gape and the dark hole beyond inducing even faster strokes on Frank’s prick. He could see her urethra clearly and her clitoris peeping from a slender hood. It all glistened.

Ella shuffled upright and climbed over his torso, sinking firmly down on the rigid pole he held upright for her. It took two goes to get fully penetrated and they both sighed as their pubic bones ground together. With practised expertise, they clung together quietly, enjoying the closeness ... well how closer could they get? Frank tensed his dick sending shock waves through his 59 year old black carer’s wet twat. Ella rose until his knob nearly slid out of her, then slowly sank, using her skills and knowledge of her vaginal workings to send ripples along Frank’s penis. He gripped her arse under her tunic, the nylon of her crotchless tights sliding under his hands.

“Wish I could see your tits Ella,” he murmured. “All these times and I’ve never seen them never mind felt them.” “How many times have I told you Frank. Not enough time, maybe we can work something out, but to get naked, have a good fuck and get sorted again ... it takes a bit too long, you know I’m always fighting the clock ... we’ll see eh?” she reasoned, as they mutually commenced a slow deliberate fuck. He dragged her tunic higher to round her waist and grasped her bare black midriff, the fuck motion steady and patient, mature minds working to the joint ultimate goal, not hearing the door open.

“That what they call caring these days?” giggled Tess, startling the shaggers, Ella squeaking, who twisted round to see the stunning buxom blonde with a towel wrapped round her. “S’nice carry on,” she snickered, making to exit and go to the kitchen. “Tess, come back darling,” cried Frank, his cock slapping against his belly as Ella jumped off him and tried to sort out her clothing. In vain she also tried to pull the heavy duvet up and over his groin. “Nice arse ... er? Mrs...” ventured Tess seeing the black clad, tightness of Ella’s bum and the giveaway gap of the crotchless garment. “Mrs Ringrow actually,” replied Ella realising her tunic wasn’t completely lowered where she bent of the bed and patting it down. “Isn’t a knock on the door the polite thing any more,” she asked firmly. “Look Tess, it’s not what you think...”stammered a dismayed, cultured, skilled and caught in the act surgeon. “Look too Uncle Frank.I don’t care. Honestly ... have your fun. I bet Aunt Margaret doesn’t know?” “No of course not ... you’re not going to tell her are you?” he said fearfully, rustling the duvet over him finally.

“Course not Unc. Nice cock as well,” Tess grinned and nodded at him. Nodding lower down the bed, then having to re-adjust the towel which had slipped and exposed one huge, wobbling, full breast and quivering stubby nipple. She performed a classic Les Dawson, hoisting the wayward bosom to join its twin and pinched the towel in her armpit. Frank licked his lips, Ella noticed as she fussed in order to make a quick exit from the embarrassing scene. “Ella was just doing me a favour Tess. Please understand ... I mean ... er ... er ... er your Aunt Margaret isn’t very ... you know? You know... ?” “Interested in sex any more... ?” Tess finished his statement. Frank nodded shamefully, Ella shook her head. Tess weighed up the situation. “A favour from a nice attractive carer ... I see. Mrs Ringr ... may a call you Ella?” she got a meek nod in reply. “I know Aunt Margaret’s menopausal right now, so is my mum as it happens. Don’t look forward to it personally, but hey! while you can enjoy what we’ve got ... and if I may say so Uncle Frank you’ve got plenty...” a delightful chuckle escaped her lush lips. “It looks tasty.”