Old Mr Millar


Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Slut Wife, Interracial, Black Male, White Female, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: White, single mom Jenny is struggling with growing bills and a sleezy Landlord. A good thing her pervy, old neighbour is on hand to help out.

Mr Millar smiled to himself when he saw thirty year old Jenny Williamson stepping out from her rear porch. His mood had not been good that morning. For over three weeks the heat-wave had rolled on and Millar had been cursing it each and every day. Outside was desperately humid and inside even worse. It reminded the old man of his time in Korea were every menial task was of the up-most effort. Already Millar was resigned to drinking beer in his garden and listening to his old portable radio. Yet even in the shade his clothes were soon stuck to his skin in clammy patches.

Then, the shapely mom of two appeared; The lovely Jenny. Millar was pleased to see that the orange and yellow bikini his neighbour wore didn't leave much to the imagination. Jenny's 32dd breasts moved considerably in the small top as she came barefoot down the steps. Her lush, healthy white skin appeared well oiled with sun-cream and her hair was tied back with a bangle. A pair of retro sunglasses were lifted up on her forehead and she carried a towel and radio in either hand.

'Damn yeah!' he smirked to himself. 'Dat's one fine white ho'. Despite his seventy six years of age the old pervert could still certainly admire a younger woman. Since Jenny, a recent widow, and her two young daughters had moved in six months ago he had done everything he could to help out.

'Hi Mr Millar'. Jenny saw the old man leering at her as usual from the yard next door. He seemed a nice, old guy but the way he always looked at her sometimes made her skin crawl. Still, with her daughters Lisa and Clara at school this was the only time of day she had to herself. The old man grinned at her, dropping his horny eyes to her chest and discreetly sliding his hand into his pocket. Even from across the yard, Jenny couldn't fail to notice an enormous, semi-hard bulge pushing through his cotton pants.

'Hi there Missy, catching some sun?' Though she didn't find him in any way attractive Jenny was always friendly with Millar. She reasoned it couldn't do any harm and with money problems mounting up he was always good for a $20 here and there. The loss of her hubby Sam, not to mention all the gambling bills he had run up along the way had left her high and dry. Hardly a day were by without a bailiff or debt collector knocking on her door. The house itself was rented but practically falling down. As only one of perhaps three white families on the whole block Jenny was thankful that her place was just outside the nearby, drug fuelled ghetto. She needed all the help she could get and despite his age the old man was also great at fixing things around the house. With all the cash he'd told her he'd saved away from his war pension she had wondered why he chose to stay. Then Millar was the stubborn type and having lived in his place for forty years, wasn't about to give it up. To Jenny, he always looked ill and part of her felt it wouldn't hurt to indulge in some harmless flirting. After all, she never saw any family and when he croaked there was always a chance he'd leave her something in his will.

'Hey' she grinned. 'Just going to sunbathe in the garden a while'. Running his tongue around his lips Millar nodded.

'Sure thing honey'. Damn she was hot. Taking his stick he went over to his lounger and took a swig from a can of warm beer. His mouth was so dry and the liquid tasted good. He had a pack in a cooler behind the chair and was already halfway through. Damn, he drank too much. The sight of prominent, white pussy had stirred something deep in his loins. He could feel his heart pounding, blood racing and 11" of prime, black snake swelling up in his pants. With a grin he waited a moment, put down the can and limped over to his favoured crack in the fence. His leg had been injured by a grenade in the war and still gave him trouble. Plus he didn't breath as well as he used to either. Probably the cigarettes. Always damn short of breath and with pains in his chest. Millar squatted down gradually and levelled his eye at the hole in the wood. Luckily Jenny was already putting out her towel, bending right over and giving another great view of her tits and hourglass figure. Even after having her two kids she sure was a hot fucking bitch. Unzipping quietly he slid his long dick into his hand and started stroking. It took him a while. After a minute or so he'd stiffened up completely, exposing the bulbous head of his uncut cock as he jerked off.

Jenny flicked her sunglasses into place then rested back on her elbows. Putting the radio to her favourite station she took a deep breath. She was a trained nurse. Unfortunately the only hospital nearby was a private clinic with no part-time vacancies. As she pondered her options she heard the grunts from the old man as he beat his big dick behind the fence. He was noisy and unashamed. Part of it disgusted her but Millar's lust was the least of her problems. Closing her eyes she popped on her headphones and dreamt of happier times.

'Maybe the old bastard will have a heart attack' she smiled to herself. Indeed, Millar's heart began to pound, bad for his angina but great for his dick. Faster he rubbed. White pussy, tight and wet. Mmm. He bet she was a good fucking ride. With a gasp he lurched forward, the first squirt of discoloured, white seed belching with force onto the fence and followed by two more that squirted onto the floor between his knees. He hadn't emptied his balls for more than a week. It was a big load for sure, stringy and thick. Sighing, he looked once more at the hot mom and tucked himself away.

Two weeks later...

Jenny needed a reason to let her hair down. Her week had been terrible. First Clara had been sick, then her car had broken down on the way to what would have been her first job interview since moving to Baltimore. It had taken almost all she had to get it fixed. She'd stopped opening what she believed to be bills and as such had found a less than polite letter from her landlord pinned to her front door. 'Come up with $300 or your out'. What could she do? When one of her old friends had invited her out on a hen-night she'd been delighted. Sure, she couldn't afford it but hell. It might be just what she needed. Jenny needed a man, yet it was still so soon after Sam. He'd been a bastard but hell, she still loved him but it would do her good to meet new people.

Sheila was getting married the following week and since seven o'clock a party of twelve women had been moving bar-to-bar. Thankfully her friend was picking up the tab too. Jenny wore her hair down on her shoulders with a silver, low-cut dress that fit several inches above the knee. A pair of clear, ankle strapped heels looked good with the outfit. It was one of the only nice dresses she had left and in fact the one she'd met her departed Sam in. He'd fucked her the same night and as a result Lisa had come into the world. For a moment Jenny pondered being young and single again. Several of the women in the group were a little worse for wear to say the least but they were all having a good time. As the music blared and men stared, the women danced around their handbags, spilling drinks and swapping stories. Mrs Elijah from across the street had promised to look after Jenny's girls for the night. Was she a bad mother for leaving them? A cry went up, snapping her from her memory and one of the women emerged with a tray of shots. It was going to be a long night.

The next morning Sheila's fiancée dropped Jenny off. The spare room at her friends apartment had been comfortable but her head was aching from all the booze. She remembered little aside from multiple trays of shots and brief fumble with a man whose mobile number now resided in her handbag. He'd been wearing a wedding ring. Jenny sighed sadly. Stumbling on the path she tried to get her keys from her bag and dropped them on the floor.

'Mrs Williamson'. Jenny's heart sank as the all too familiar voice of her Landlord came from behind her. Walter Goesch was a late 40's, slim man with polished features and greying hair. He had a tendency to wear a suit in almost all weathers and always smelt strongly of cheap colonge. She turned, too tired for an argument and realised the older man had been eyeing her ass as she picked up her keys.

'Mr Goesch' she sighed. She knew what was coming. Her last warning on rent had been more than ten days ago. The man folded his arms. He had obviously been waiting in his car for her to arrive. His beady stare lingered on her lovely, raised cleavage. Jenny knew Goesch was married but she didn't imagine that stopped him from womanising.

Millar had been up most of the morning. He didn't sleep much anyway and had taken his morning coffee into the yard when the sound of a man's raised voice alerted him. Taking his stick he walked over to the crack in the fence. A man in a tan suit was giving Jenny a firm dressing down. He'd seen him around a few times. Millar oddly felt a protective surge for his neighbour and cursed through his teeth.

'Enough cash to party eh?' Goesch sneered eyeing Jenny's outfit. 'But not enough to keep your children with a roof over their head'. Bowing her head she realised how it looked.

.... There is more of this story ...

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