May and December
Chapter 1

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fisting, Water Sports, Enema, Exhibitionism, Slow,

Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - An elderly man takes a younger woman under his wing.

Rock bottom! That's where my life was as I take up this story. I won't go into the bitter details but I was a reformed heroine addict. I'd been 'clean' for two years but my habit had cost me everything: husband, my two lovely daughters, my home, my dignity. Everything.

Three years ago I had been sleeping rough when the social workers got onto my case. From then, for the most part, at least I had a roof over my head when I slept. Mostly it was run-down B&Bs so I was once more trying to get warm on the streets during the day. Eventually, after I had come off the drugs (except for the odd spliff, ) they found me a place in a semi-permanent 'half-way' hostel. There, through the girl in the next room, I met Billy – he was such a sweet lad even though he was totally fucked up on drugs. One thing led to another with me and Billy and we had sex a few times. Then the silly bugger got into an argument and got himself wasted by a dealer's minder. But I had his baby in my womb.

Time passed, as it does. 'They' thought it was inappropriate for me to have my baby in the hostel so, with the help of the local council, they found me a flat of my own. It was in one of four identical blocks, each having twelve identical flats, surrounding a grassy courtyard, if that wasteland could be called grassy. Most of my neighbours were the jetsam of society. Next door to me was the local dealer; that was John, and he put the word out on the estate that I wasn't to be touched.

But my flat had been a doss for up to a dozen of John's customers until the place was raided and the official tenant was evicted. The council sent their cleaners in but it was still a mess when my social worker, bubbling with enthusiasm, took me to the flat, opened the door and handed me the keys.

I stepped inside cautiously, aware of the smell of disinfectant, unsuccessful in the battle with urine and other obnoxious fumes. I looked around at the filth on the walls – the graffiti partially obscured by other daubings of god knew what. I slowly walked onto the concrete floor inside the door. There were four doors off the central passage, all of them open. To my right was a living room, to my left, a bedroom. Both rooms were carpeted. The carpets were rank.

The social worker said some furniture would be delivered that afternoon. I was to be given a bed, table and chair, an electric kettle, a couple of pans and some basic crockery and cutlery. Surprisingly, the kitchen was relatively clean. The bathroom was disgusting.

So that was it. Of course it needs a bit of work, I was informed by the social worker. What did they expect me to do with a belly full of a baby due next month? It would take Pharoah's pyramid squad a year to clean that place. I did the best I could in the bedroom. I ripped out all the old carpeting and bought myself an offcut of cheap new carpet down at the market and put it down, though not fitted.

Three weeks after I moved into my flat I was taken to hospital. My son was stillborn. A few days later, New Year's Eve, I was back in my own place. It would have been so easy to knock on John's door and get a deal but I was so depressed I couldn't even summon the energy to do that. I just crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep.

The next few months were just a bad dream. I hated the flat and refused to do anything to clean it up, except the bedroom and kitchen. I was just drifting from day to day. My social worker would often tell me I could do better. Yeah, it was all right for that stuck up cow with her big car and her patronising 'pep-talks'. She didn't live on the Downton estate!

One day in late July dawned with the promise of a beautiful day. I opened my window to let some fresh air in and heard a couple of blackbirds trying to out-sing each other. I felt something kind of 'snap' in my head and thought it would be nice to get out and about for the day. Yes, I thought, I could go and have my hair done properly. But I had been wearing the same very minimum set of clothing since I got back from hospital so first I had to do some shopping.

I've never let on to any of the people I met in the various hostels, or my neighbours now, but I had only drawn enough from my bank for everyday essentials so my social security money had been building up quietly. I wasn't rich but I could certainly afford some little luxuries.

I drew some cash at the post office and went to the local shopping centre where I bought a sexy bra and pants for today. No, I wasn't thinking about sex but I knew I would feel good. I saw a lovely pale yellow gingham check summer dress in a charity shop. In the same shop, I picked up a pair of patent leather shoes with a three-inch heel - they were still in the box - and a narrow black patent belt. I also picked up a small handbag to match the shoes. I bought some basic cosmetics and returned home with my treasures. I gave myself a good strip-wash (no way would I use that bath, ) washed my hair and tied it in a ponytail then put my new clothes on. Truly, I felt like a new woman.

It was now getting close to lunch time so I decided to get the bus a couple of miles to the centre of one of those villages swallowed up in the city conurbation which was a lively shopping centre. There was a hairdresser there who had been praised by one of the friends I had before I started on the drugs. I wanted a good cut and shampoo and everything to make it nice and make me feel pampered. I used to be so proud of my blonde hair and always had it looked after by my favourite hairdresser in the old days. I wanted it back again.

The salon couldn't fit me in until 4:30 after I had confided to the receptionist that I had neglected my hair for too long and it would need a lot of work. No problem, I could get some lunch then sit and watch the world go by on this lovely day. I had a delicious salmon salad sitting in the sun outside the café then had a walk around the village square.

My new shoes were pinching a little so I decided to sit down on a bench right next to a flower bed to rest my feet. There were a few bees buzzing around but I'd always lived with the philosophy of I don't bother bees, bees don't bother me. On one end of the bench, when I arrived, sat a woman of about my age, eating from a pack of sandwiches; on the other end sat a little grey-haired man who was smoking. Pulling out a ciggy of my own, I asked if I could sit between them; there was lots of room so they both murmured their assent and the man flicked a lighter for my cigarette.

After a few minutes, the woman finished her lunch and hurried off down the street, glancing at her wristwatch. The man and I started talking - the usual stuff about the weather and so on. He offered me another cigarette and as we smoked, I noticed he quite often glanced to my left to an attractive redhead who was making a charity collection outside the convenience store. "It's her first day," he told me, indicating the woman. "I'm just showing her the ropes. She's OK: doing well."

Our conversation drifted along and I found myself telling him about my day, and how I had another hour to wait for my appointment. One thing led to another and parts of the sad story of my life came out. At one stage he excused himself, asking me if I'd like a coffee. He had a word with the redhead then disappeared only to return a couple of minutes later with three steaming cups. He gave one to the redhead, sat down and handed me a cup then stuck his hand out. "My name's David. Call me Dave if you prefer."

"Hi Dave," I shook his hand, "I'm Beatrice - yes, it's a bit old-fashioned but my Mum was like that. I answer to Betty or Bet."

"Beatrice is a lovely name. What do you like to be called?"

"Betty," I smiled.

He smiled back and for fully a minute he looked at me quite intently. Not staring and trying to dominate me and, even though he cast a look up and down my body, I didn't get that creepy feeling you sometimes get when a man is mentally stripping you naked. No, it felt more like he was committing my looks to memory.

I took the opportunity to look him over, too. He was a short man. His hair and beard were both neatly trimmed grey all over and his exposed skin was deeply tanned. The eyes behind his rimless spectacles were a pale blue-green with laughter wrinkles at the corner. He was wearing an open-neck lemon sports shirt and light fawn slacks with a pair of open sandals on his feet. On his left hand he wore two identical gold bands, one on his wedding finger and the other resting next to it on his little finger. Two chains dangled round his neck, both worn outside his shirt: a large piece of amber was on the heavier chain while the smaller held a cylinder of lapis lazuli.

We both broke off looking at each other at the same time and both looked away, slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he murmured in apology, but I told him it was OK and I was staring, too.

We got to know each a little better: I told him of my home before drugs and what I had lost through my own fault. I learned that he had nursed his wife through emphysema until her death five years ago. "That was her ring," he said pointing to his little finger. I swear his eyes rimmed up with moisture. He heaved a deep sigh then smiled at me.

Where had the afternoon gone? I wondered. It was only a few minutes to my appointment. I almost didn't want that magic afternoon to end.

"Betty," he said, a little unsure of himself, "Look, I know I'm a stranger, but would you like to have a drink and maybe a meal with me this evening. No," he assured me, "not a date or anything like that. I've enjoyed this afternoon and would like to extend it into the evening with no ulterior motive. You have your hairdresser to see, I have to take Celia home," he indicated the redhead, "but I could come and pick you up from the salon afterwards. We can take it from there."

I had had nothing but good vibes from Dave all afternoon and he didn't come across as a dirty old man. When we stood up I saw that I was much taller than Dave; I could even see the bald patch at the crown of his head. As he 'escorted' me to the salon I told him, "That would be nice, Dave. I'll be about an hour getting my hair done."

"I'll be back before then."

"Come into the salon, they'll let you wait."

"See you soon." Dave smiled, turned and got into his car which, by coincidence was parked close to the salon.

About 45 minutes later he popped his head round the door of the salon. I saw him in the mirror and waved him in. "This is Dave, who I was telling you about." The hairdresser welcomed him and pointed to a chair near the window. She was almost finished her work and had done a lovely job. It looked so healthy and shiny, I couldn't believe the change from the stringy mess it had been when I woke up this morning.

The stylist finally finished all those last-minute pats and tucks then removed the cover off my body. I stood up and smiled at myself in the mirror. OMG I looked as pretty as I used to look. Smiling right back at me in the mirror was a young woman with blonde hair set in a loose ponytail. She had eyes as blue as the deep sea. Her skin was pale, almost the classic 'peaches and cream'. The bodice of her dress was nicely filled and the narrow belt accentuated her slim waist. The skirt flared out over her broad hips, ending just above her knees, showing her trim calves and ankles.

"You look lovely, Betty," said Dave with a big smile. I paid the stylist and, as we walked to the car, I linked my arm in his. He opened the door for me, ushered me into the car then went round to the driver's seat. "That's Bonzo in the back," he said by way of introduction to a medium-sized dog of obviously mixed heritage. Soon we were heading out of town and onto the motorway. About 15 miles up the road, he took the exit and, after not too long, he parked up by a canal. "I thought we might go for a walk before dinner," he said. "Not too far, just a stroll along the towpath. That lazy bag of bones on the back seat needs some exercise."

There were quite a few people, often with dogs, on the towpath. Bonzo didn't wear a leash but Dave kept him well under control as we passed other dogs. Bonzo was obviously well-trained. We chatted about almost anything under the sun; Dave often interspersed the conversation with amusing anecdotes gleaned from his life. If we had differences of opinion, he would listen to my ideas, not just ride roughshod over them. We had been walking slowly for maybe half an hour when Dave suggested we turn back and find somewhere for dinner.

I won't mention it again but whenever I got in or out of the car, he always opened the door and closed it behind me. His old-fashioned courtesies made me feel special. I think we women paid a big price for our 'equality'. We didn't return to the city via the motorway, but along the older country road which ran more or less parallel. He pulled into the car park of a country pub which was advertising carvery meals and escorted me inside.

"Let's find a quiet table," he said and we looked around. I spotted a table in the corner. The customers were just leaving.

"Will that do?" I tugged his arm and indicated the newly vacated table.

"Perfect," he replied, "let's grab it before anyone else." We rushed over and he seated me. "OK, what would you like to drink, Betty?"

"What are you having?"

"Just one small glass of wine with the meal; I'm driving. But you're not: have what you fancy."

"I'll bet they don't have what I really like, it's not very popular. Do you think they will have Campari?"

"Yes, I know they stock it here. Do you like Campari? I love the stuff but everybody says it tastes like medicine. I've changed my mind; I'm going to have a Campari and soda with lots of ice and lemon. What would you like with yours, Betty?"

"If I were doing some serious drinking, I would have what you're having, but with a shot of vodka."

"You're not driving so why not? Don't worry about me: I'll have a drink or two after I've got you safely back to your place and myself home."

"OK, get me a vodka, Campari and soda. Ditto on the ice and lemon." As he walked to the bar, I felt a twinge of sadness that he had mentioned my flat. Today had been a dream in his company. He was always charming, polite and witty. Even knowing what he did about my past, he was treating me as a lady. Dave had reminded me that the evening would come to an end eventually, and I would be back in the real world. He soon returned with our drinks, set them on the table, and said, "Let's go find some food."

In an alcove off the main restaurant was the carvery. The place was rather busy so we had to stand in line behind four or five other couples. I noticed that the chef was being generous with the portions he was slicing off the huge joints. We got our meals, filling our plates with veggies, and returned to our table.

While we were eating, we held a lively conversation and had a friendly argument over Dylan and The Beatles. I love Dylan but Dave complained that his voice was a nasal whine and he was a whinging malcontent. The Beatles, on the other hand, had been real musicians who enjoyed life.

But Bob Dylan, I countered, cared, really cared, about the world problems; his songs made you think, he knew about life.

Listen to the words of Eleanor Rigby, was Dave's response, or Lady Madonna! Or the poignancy of She's Leaving Home if you want to hear about the meaning of life.

We kept up our conversation in the same vein all through our meal. When the waitress asked if we would like desert, Dave passed me a menu and we both made our selections. It was delicious and we discovered that we were both chocoholics at heart. Soon we were both full. I patted my tummy and sighed, "Thank you, Dave. A lovely meal but I'm bloated and couldn't manage another bite."

"Would you like a coffee or would you rather have another drink?"

"I'll have another of these, I think, but I'll get them: you've paid for everything else this evening."

He reached across and patted my arm. "I invited you to have dinner and a drink or two with me. When I invite a lady, I pay." He smiled to soften his blunt phrasing.

I didn't want to spoil things over a trivial argument so I smiled my acquiescence. He went to the bar and brought me my drink, and some pale concoction, which I learned later, was lime cordial and soda.

"Dave," I said, looking him in the eyes, "I enjoyed sitting talking with you this afternoon, you've bought me a lovely meal and I've enjoyed your company ever since we met. It's been a magical time for me; I don't want it to end." I paused, catching and holding his eye, "Can I come home with you, please, Dave, please? I don't want to go back to that dump tonight."

He sat back with a concerned frown. "That's not very wise, Betty. You know nothing about me. For all you know I might be an evil axe murderer. No, I don't think you should come back with me. If you like, I can pick you up tomorrow and we can spend the day together, maybe go down to the coast, or something else if you prefer. I'd like that." He smiled.

"Oh, Dave, I'd love that, too. But I honestly couldn't face going back to that place tonight. Please, please, please let me come with you."

"I wouldn't mind, my dear, you'd be welcome to stay the night at my place, but as I say, you really don't know anything about me but my name - and maybe that's a lie. Betty, what have you been warned by everybody since you were a little girl? 'Don't go with strangers.' I'm that stranger you don't go with."

"I still want to come back with you Dave. I know I can trust you."

He shook his head and smiled, "You really don't know you can trust me. But I know I can trust me so yes, you may have my spare room tonight. But there will be a condition, for your own safety: when we get to my place, or now if you wish, I want you to phone somebody who knows you and I want you to tell them exactly where you are going and who I am. You can read the details off my driving licence. Will you do that?"

"I suppose I could call Jane: she's the only one from my old days who has kept in any kind of touch."

"OK, let's go home. If I don't have to drive you home tonight, it's about time I started getting outside of a real drink. Do you want to finish that drink as you're calling Jane?" He handed me his mobile.

I took a gulp of my drink as the phone was connecting. "Hi, Jane, it's Bet. Look, I know this is a bit of a weird thing to ask; do you have a pen and paper handy?" I waited until Jane told me to go ahead. "OK, I said, it's like this..." I gave her a brief rundown of the day. "The thing is," I continued, "Dave insists that I call you and tell you who I'm with and where we're going." Dave held his driving licence out to me and I read his full name and address from the licence. "Did you get all that?"

"Yep, Bet. I got it. Now you two enjoy yourselves. He sounds like a very nice man. Say 'Hi' to Dave for me. Bye bye bye bye..."

I handed Dave his phone and licence back. "Jane says you're a nice man and says 'Hi.'" I finished my drink but noticed Dave ignored the remnants of his glass. We went back out to the car where he let Bonzo out to stretch his legs and have nose around and cock his leg, as dogs will. It took Dave about twenty minutes to drive to his place. I did note that it was the same address as his licence, blowing away any last lingering hesitation. Dave was an OK guy.

He opened the door and stopped Bonzo pushing past me with the words, "Wait Bonzo. Ladies first," and ushered me into the small vestibule of a neat new bungalow. He opened the inner door and reached past me to the light switch. The door opened onto a passage with doors to the left and right, with an open door straight ahead. I could see a large double bed from the light of the passage.

Dave indicated I should step inside. Immediately to our right Dave opened a door, entered the small bedroom and closed the curtains before switching the light on. "This will be your room." It held a double bed, chest and wardrobe, all decent mass-produced furniture. The bed covers were decidedly masculine, as was the whole house furnishing. Dave turned back the corner of the duvet then showed me the rest of his house. The kitchen was quite a big one and pretty well-equipped – that was first left. Next right was the bathroom with a nice big bath, separate shower stall and the toilet. The porcelain was all gleaming and I've always thought you can tell a person's home from their bathroom and toilet - my own showing how little I cared for the dump. "Take a bath or shower any time you like. Plenty of hot water."

To the left was a nice-sized living room with a decent TV and impressive-looking sound system. The two huge armchairs were next to each other, each with a very wide, flat arm so it was almost like a table between them. Along one wall was a huge book case full of books. The end wall was all glass with a sliding door. Dave went in and pulled all the curtains closed.

The final room was his bedroom. Along the back wall was a large computer workstation and a little space which was obviously his office. It was the only untidy place in the house but we didn't stay looking at it.

"Dave," I asked maybe a little shyly, "I know I've only just got here but may I take a shower right away pretty please? I haven't bathed properly for months."

"Sure," he said, opening the bathroom again and retrieving a nice big navy bath towel from a cupboard. "Let me show you the controls." He did that then walked to the wardrobe in 'my' room and brought me a fluffy, soft navy bathrobe. From the mirrored cabinet above the sink he produced a new tooth brush still in its sealed cellophane wrapper. "See you in a few minutes. I'll have a drink waiting." Again, he had a lovely, kindly smile as he closed the door.

I turned the lock and undressed then enjoyed the luxury of a long, hot shower. The various toiletries were masculine, of course, but had a mild, spicy scent with a hint of lavender. I liked it - I still use his to this day. As I soaped up my breasts I began to feel just a little bit horny and my nipples crinkled up, asking for some stimulation. I was happy to oblige. My pussy also wanted my fingers when I got down that far. It had been over a year since Billy had been killed and I'd had nothing since then. With the heat of the shower and my soapy hands rhythmically fondling my breasts and my pussy, my thoughts drifted to Billy and his sweet and gentle loving. I didn't at first realise it when Dave's image kept slipping in but when I noticed the direction of my reveries I stopped short. "Dave?" I thought, "he's twice my age?"

My new friend had been the perfect gentleman all day and there had never been any suggestion of sex or anything but the mildest flirting either in his speech or actions. What if he did make a pass at me now we were alone? Strangely I wasn't repulsed by the thought and continued with Dave in my mind as I suppressed my squeals as I my orgasm flooded through my body.

Almost reluctantly I turned off the shower and towelled myself dry. I dusted myself over with his talc then had to decide what to wear, not that I had a lot of choice. I decided on my underwear and the bath robe which came down to mid-calf so was plenty good coverage. Even after my earlier thoughts, I wasn't of a mind to encourage him.

I tidied the bathroom and joined Dave in the living room. The sound system was playing some classical music as a quiet background, there were two glasses filled with ice and that pale pink of Campari on the little coffee table, and what looked suspiciously like a spliff.

"Sit down, Betty. I'm dying for a drink but I've been waiting for you to join me." His smile welcomed me so I sat down and picked up the drink. He reached over to clink his glass on mine, "Careful, I made them strong."

Whoosh! It was strong. I think there wasn't too much soda in the mix. Dave took a big gulp of his own and sighed, "I needed that! Do you want to share this with me?" He picked up the spliff, lit it and took a couple of big drags. I reached across and he passed it over to me.

A big pull on it had me coughing. "Your smoke is as strong as your drink." I gasped as I regained my breath.

"No sense in wasting time: make them strong and you don't have to make them so often. I'm a lazy bastard." He shrugged and smiled over at me as I was braving another pull on the spliff.

More by way of conversation, and certainly meant in jest I said, "Anyone would think you're getting me drunk and drugged so you can have your wicked way with me." Phew, my head was spinning and my ears buzzed; did I just say that? I was stoned after two hits.

I passed the spliff back and tried to collect my head. He took a blast then a drink and said to me in a serious voice although his eyes twinkled, "Betty, I'm 67 and you're 32. I'm old enough to be your father, your grandfather, even. You're a very attractive young lady: I'm not naïve, there's no way you could want me for that kind of thing. No, dear, I'm under no illusions. Truly you are perfectly safe and I have no intention of taking advantage of your condition." He gave a short laugh: "Anyway, we oldies are not like young men, ruled by our gonads."

He was totally serious and totally believable. We finished that spliff between us as the atmosphere again relaxed. We sipped at our drinks and Dave brought out more pot and a little pipe. "I normally take mine neat in the pipe. You're welcome to a few pipes with me or skin up for yourself. It's up to you. Finish that off," he indicated my almost empty glass, "and I'll get us a refill."

While I emptied my glass he had a couple of pipes then passed me the kit, picked up my glass and headed off to the kitchen, Bonzo following at his heel. As they left, I saw a dark streak dash from his bedroom to the kitchen. I almost choked on the pipe in surprise and followed them all to the kitchen. Dave reached into the fridge and got out a bone, which he set down in front of Bonzo and told him to wait. Next he fed the cat, which was what that dark streak turned out to be, a handful of dry cat food from a packet. Bonzo was obediently sitting in front of the bone staring and drooling by the time Dave said to him, "OK Bonzo!" and the dog took up the bone. "This is Aunt Sally," he said, indicating the cat. "She's shy around most strangers. Let her get used to you. I never thought to ask, do you like cats and dogs?"

Dogs, I could take them or leave them but I've always loved cats and they know it. After she had finished eating her treats, and while Dave was mixing our drinks, she came to introduce herself to me by rubbing against my legs. "Yes, I love cats and I don't mind dogs, especially when they're as well-behaved as Bonzo."

That seemed to please him. He got out a packet of chocolate coated raisins and tipped them into a bowl. He gave me my refilled glass, picked up his own and we all went back to the living room. Bonzo sat at his master's feet while Aunt Sally jumped onto the broad arms of our chairs with a little 'merrrp' and settled down.

We both helped ourselves to those chocolate raisins and for no apparent reason I got a fit of the giggles - you know how infectious the giggles are when you're off your head, Dave started laughing too. Suddenly everything was nice, warm and cosy. We finally got our laughing under control - well, almost - and Dave started tossing single chocky raisins up and catching them in his mouth. He caught a couple then one missed and it landed on the floor, giving me another thing to giggle at. Bonzo flicked out his tongue and disposed of it.

I started throwing raisins of my own and had about as much success as Dave. All this movement made the belt of my robe come a bit loose but neither of us seemed to notice until Dave threw a raisin towards my mouth; it missed and went straight down the garment. That gave us both something to giggle at as I searched for it inside my robe.

Finding the errant raisin, I triumphantly popped it in my mouth and with what I hoped was great dignity I closed the robe and retied the belt. Not that it made much difference; we both knew he had seen me in my underwear. Somehow I didn't mind and he didn't seem upset: no harm done.

So that happy evening stretched out. We had some more drinks, maybe another two, maybe more, I lost count, and more pipes: we just drifted along in our own little world. We played toss the raisin after a while, trying to catch each other's. We made a competition of it and Bonzo was like a vacuum cleaner whenever we missed. He ate more raisins than the two of us put together. Again all the movement made my robe open up but I left it like that. Truth be known, pot always loosened my inhibitions and I was feeling more than a bit randy. I started flirting with him and letting the robe open even more. Dave flirted back and I noticed he was having a good look at my body.

When our glasses were almost empty again I got up and said I'd get us a refill this time. I came back with the drinks and set them on the table. I threw the bathrobe wide open then sat myself on his lap. With one hand behind his head I kissed him and brought his hand to my breast with my other hand. The kiss lasted for about two seconds and just as I started pushing my tongue forward, his hand left my breast - he hadn't even squeezed it in that brief time - and he pulled away from the kiss.

"Betty," he said almost sadly, "you have drunk a lot of strong liquor and smoked a lot of pot. You're pissed and stoned and not capable of making a rational decision." I noticed that his speech was becoming a bit slurred. "I promised you I would not take advantage of you in this state so please don't do this. I would hate you to look at me in the morning and think 'Did I really sleep with that old man?' Go and sit back down, Betty." He picked up my glass and handed it to me. Maybe he was right so I was a good girl and sat back in my own chair and sipped at the drink. But I was still horny, no getting around that!

I decided to roll a spliff which Dave shared with me. Eventually I felt my eyelids drooping. I looked at the last mouthful of drink in my glass and just didn't fancy it at all. Dave stood over me and held out his hand. "Bedtime for you, young lady."

I tried to stand but my legs wouldn't work. I tried again then felt Dave's arm tucked round my back and under my arm as he dead lifted me from sitting to standing. The room was swaying and spinning and he was the only stable thing around so I clung to him. With his arm around my waist holding me firmly he led me to my bedroom.

Opening the door, he didn't bother switching the light on, the light from the passage was sufficient. He pulled the bed covers away then sat me down on the edge of the bed. He slipped the robe from my shoulders and held me as he laid me in the bed. He kissed me softly and chastely on the lips, to which I responded in like manner, he pulled the covers over me, stroked my cheek and said, "Thanks for today, Betty. I've enjoyed it so much." It seemed like too much of an effort to respond so I just looked up at him and smiled. I don't even think I remember the door closing.

Oh god, never again. My head felt like it didn't belong to me and my stomach was definitely queasy. It took me a few seconds to recognise that I wasn't in my own bed. I sat up suddenly: a mistake. Note to self for immediate consideration: no fast moves. I looked down at myself and saw I was wearing bra and panties. The bathrobe I had worn last night was on the bed beside me. Slowly, last night and the whole of yesterday came back to me: I wondered what the new day would bring. The clock on the bedroom wall told me it was 9:15.

I carefully stood up and pulled the robe on. Tying the belt, I opened the door and ventured out. The kitchen door was open and I peeped in. Dave was making busy at the sink, washing a few pots and glasses. On the breakfast table there was a jug of orange juice, a glass and a packet of paracetamol tablets. Just about the kind of breakfast I could face. I dropped onto the bench seat at the table, poured a glass of juice and took a couple of tablets. Dave finished what he was doing then offered me a cup of coffee. Only instant, he apologised. I asked him to make me a cup but I wanted it to cool off a little before I tackled it.

He brought two cups to the table, stood behind me and started massaging the kinks out of my neck and shoulders. "Do you fancy going to the beach today?" he asked. I groaned, both in pleasure about what his magic fingers were doing to my neck and, more negatively at the thought of that long drive to the beach. How could Dave be so bright and cheerful this morning: he had as much to drink as I had last night? I surrendered myself to his gentle manipulations and felt tensions draining away. I made no objection when he slipped the robe off my shoulders so he could reach down the top of my spine but he made no attempt to take liberties. He broke off for a minute, took a drink from his coffee and left the room briefly, returning with a phone. "Do you think it might be a good idea to phone your friend and let her know you're OK?" While he was working on my shoulders I called Jane and told her that I was fine and that Dave hadn't tried to lay a finger on me. I said we both got absolutely wrecked last night but he had been a true gentleman.

"I haven't anything to wear to go anywhere, Dave. You've seen all my clothes." I felt myself blushing at the memory of my shameless flashing my all at him last night. "I need to buy some more before I can think of going anywhere. I haven't even got anything decent down at the flat and I bought all you have seen yesterday. Would you take me to the Mall so I can buy some stuff, please?"

"No problem," he replied. "Without wishing to pry, are you OK for cash?"

"If we could stop off at a post office on the way, I'll withdraw plenty. We can have some lunch at the Mall but I'm paying for it." I could see the objection forming on his lips and put a finger to close them. "My treat, I mean it, you paid for everything yesterday."

He smiled at my serious face. "Right, we'll go shopping - but please, not too long, I've shopped with too many women in the past." His face took on a pained expression. "Or rather I've trailed behind them while they did the shopping. Then we have lunch, your treat if you insist, and then what would you like to do?"

"I tend to make my mind up quickly so maybe I'm not as bad as your other women. To be honest, I'm feeling a bit too fragile to go as far as the coast. I'd rather just sit in the sun somewhere close."

"Is my back garden close enough? Come and look." He led me through the living room and out through the patio door. The garden looked the perfect sun trap. He had a neatly clipped privet hedge rising to about seven feet all round. In one corner was a plum tree loaded with ripening fruit; in the other corner was a cherry tree, similarly laden. The edge of a fairly small patio was lined with well-established lavender which was abuzz with bees. I walked to the middle of the garden and looked all around. With perfect privacy in all directions it was almost a place apart from the world.

"Oh, it's so lovely, Dave. Can we just chill out here this afternoon?"

"Yes, of course we can. Will it take you long to get ready for the Mall?"

"No, I've got very little to do. Just let me get washed up then I'm ready." We returned to the house; I went through to my bedroom, took off the bathrobe, picked up my dress and handbag and walked out to the bathroom in my undies. Dave blinked but didn't turn his eyes aside as I walked past him. I closed the door but didn't lock it. He knew I was there so it wasn't needed. I sat at the toilet doing the necessary and looked at my panties. They were still messy and smelly from last night. I recall getting very horny and almost throwing myself at Dave. OMG, I thought, my pussy had been dripping wet as I sat on his lap. Anyway, I didn't really want to be carrying that stink around.

Finishing my toilet, I washed up, not missing my privates, then went to the bathroom door with knickers in my hand. Opening the door a crack I called his name and he came from his bedroom. "Dave, my knickers are dirty. Do you have anything I could possibly wear instead? These are pretty ripe."

He returned to his room and came back shortly afterwards with a pair of red silk boxers and a pair of men's briefs. "Try these, it's about the best I can do."

I took them from him, held the boxers to my waist then opened the door a bit wider: "What do you think?"

He looked for a couple of seconds then slowly shook his head. "Not really, I don't think. Not under that frock at least. Try the briefs."

By now I didn't really care if he saw my private parts so I handed the boxers back to him and he watched as I pulled the briefs on. They fit pretty well. I turned to look at them in the large mirror. "Yes, they are fine," I said and slipped my dress on, deliberately leaving an extra button open at the top.

I turned back to the mirror and put on some basic light makeup. I smoothed my dress from top to bottom, moulding my breasts as I did so and said, "I'm ready. How do I look?"

"Very nice. Pretty."

Dave seemed surprised that a woman could get ready so quickly but he opened the door without comment and had to make Bonzo stay behind. The Mall wasn't far and honestly I didn't drag him round every shop there. Just a couple which had a good reputation. Some more lingerie first, I thought. Dave was not the least embarrassed to walk with me as I passed through the rows of bras and panties, he would even comment on them. I got to learn what he liked and one of my choices was the sexiest set he had pointed out. I bent down and whispered in his ear, "How would you like to take these off me when I'm stone cold sober?"

As I bent over to him, he could see all the way down the front of my dress, and he did look. He looked me directly in the eyes and said, "Any time, any place. Are you really sure you want to do that with me?"

I just smiled and by way of answer I gave him a soft kiss on the lips. There, it was out in the open. Yes, I did fancy him even though he was so much older than me. He was handsome in his own way, he was clean, smelled sweet and maybe most of all, he was like an old fashioned gentleman with his lady. Dammit, he made me feel good. I wondered what he would be like as a lover and was starting to get damp between my legs with these thoughts.

Now the big question had been answered, we both relaxed and we touched each other more as we looked at more clothes. I got some nice tops and t-shirts, a couple of sensible skirts and the other bits and pieces I needed. He insisted on carrying my bags out to the car and safely out of the way, suggesting that I get us a table in the central food area.

As I was seated and waiting for Dave to return I tried to imagine what he would be like in bed. He'd probably had a lifetime of experience with women. One thing I knew: at his age it wouldn't be wham, bang, and thank you ma'am. I used to enjoy teasing my boyfriends so I decided to tease Dave as much as I could over lunch. The way he had looked at my bosom several times gave me an idea which set my nipples coming up to play. I opened another button on my dress and was determined to let Dave peek as much as he liked.

Before too long Dave was back. We ordered our meals and as we waited for them to be delivered, I kept bending forward. Crazy, isn't it? Last night he had seen me in just my underwear, this morning even saw my pussy but now we were in a public place, just a flash of my bra seemed wicked.

"Good, here it is" I declared as our food arrived, "I'm starving now; I had no breakfast, remember."

"Whose fault was that?" His eyes twinkled. The whole meal was one long mutual flirting and teasing session with our knees and feet meeting under the table. I made sure he saw lots of my chest and he certainly wasn't shy in looking. Soon the meal was finished and, as we stood up he asked, "What would you like to do now, Betty?"

I grabbed his arm and we walked on until I was sure nobody could hear me, I said quietly, "I want you to take me home and make love to me while I'm stone cold sober. When we have satisfied our immediate passion, I want to get very drunk, very stoned and very fucked, simultaneously."

"I do believe," he said, guiding me towards the exit, "that's a very good plan. We can order a pizza or something later, so we don't have to go anywhere or do anything. Except bed and fuck. How sexy do you feel, Betty? Are you adventurous?"

"I'm horny as fucking hell! What are you thinking, 'adventurous'?"

We were passing a door marked with the familiar female sign. "If you feel adventurous," he half-whispered, "go in there and take your briefs off. Nobody will know except you and me. If you are really daring you'll also remove your bra - but maybe other people will know and see."

I had often thought it might be a bit exciting to do something like that but never really had the courage to show anything but a flash of undies. Now here was Dave asking me to do it, and I'd never even thought of doing it when I wasn't stoned. With a frisson of excitement that had me a little breathless I walked through the door and entered the first available cubicle. I used the facilities - I was almost peeing myself with the thought of what I was about to do - and instead of pulling my briefs back up, I pulled them all the way off. Taking a deep breath, I opened the dress and removed my bra. Should I button it all the way or leave that extra button open? I left it open but felt very self-conscious as I put my undies in my handbag, left the toilets and rejoined him.

"You look lovely," he beamed when I linked my arm into his. "I see you are very daring."

I was also very excited and flowing like a stream. I couldn't understand it; why was I almost fit to rape this old man walking next to me?

When we go into the car I made sure he, at least, saw my bare breasts but as he was strapping himself in he said, "How would you like to open all those buttons for the drive?" The frock had buttons all the way down to a low waist. I waited until we had left the car park and properly on the move before I found my fingers complying with his request. The top opened away from my breasts and I was very conscious that anyone looking through the car window would maybe see me but, as we were moving at a fair speed, I thought they probably wouldn't get more that a quick glance.

Oh shit, I thought as we pulled to a stop in a queue at the traffic lights. I made to close the gap down my front but Dave smiled and said, "Leave it open, please. You've got breasts to be proud of."

There was a woman driver in the adjacent lane and I know she was looking. Fortunately the lights changed fairly quickly and as we drove away I pulled my top away from my body to make sure the other woman had a good look. She tracked alongside us for a couple of seconds then she gave me a 'thumbs up' and with a huge grin she mouthed, "Yeah!"

I was so excited; I could feel the seat of my dress getting wet now that I wasn't wearing briefs to help soak up the heavy leaking. I made myself more discrete as we got close to his house - no point in advertising to his neighbours - but as soon as the front door was closed behind us, I grabbed his face and gave him the sexiest of kisses, with my tongue half way down his throat. I was kissed back just as thoroughly and Dave wasted no time in slipping the dress off my shoulders and getting himself a handful of aching tit.

Breathlessly I broke off the kiss and pulled his shirt over his head. He had a broad chest with firm musculature all over his upper body. While it wasn't developed into a six-pack, his stomach was tight with very little sign of fat. I dropped to my knees in front of him and opened the top of his slacks, pulling them all the way down. I could see a sizeable lump in his briefs which required a closer examination.

It didn't disappoint me when I pulled his briefs off and took his firm flesh in my hand. He wasn't built like a donkey but was certainly big enough to fill me. It was lovely and clean. The circumcised head tilted up a little, and right at the tip glistened a little blob of his lubrication which I kissed away.

"Are you really sure about this, Betty?" he asked as he gently pulled away and brought me to my feet and led me to his bed.

"Yes I'm sure Dave, I wanted it last night but you wouldn't, I've wanted it all morning but we couldn't, so now will you please shut the fuck up and fuck me."

"Your wish is my command." With that he picked me up and threw me onto his bed then scrambled after me and got himself a handful of tit while he kissed me very thoroughly. I hate those men who give a breast scant attention, just a few squeezes and maybe a bit of suckling but Dave, oh god, he really knew what to do with a tit as he mauled it just as comprehensively as he kissed.

His tool was wonderfully hard as my hand wrapped around its ample girth, spreading the silky juices around that smooth head. I love circumcised penises; they are much sweeter and cleaner. I looked forward to tasting its delights, but I think we both needed to fuck first and explore later. As if reading my mind, he pushed my legs apart and knelt between them. I spread my lips to welcome him to the harbour and just grunted as his length slid right up inside, without forcing but going right to the hilt. He started slowly pumping in and out, going full length strokes which seemed to touch me everywhere down there. He was propped up on his hands looking down at me as I wrapped my legs tightly around him.

"Play with your tits for me," he said, gripping my hips so he could thrust harder into me. He watched as my hands came up to maul my tits about and punish the nipples. My juices were squelching between us and my hips were bucking, trying to match his rhythm. I was moaning and calling his name over and over and asking for more, more, more.

He was gradually speeding up his thrusting; I saw that look of intention in his eyes and knew we were both so close. His face dropped to mine and we brushed our lips then he whispered, "Come for me my Bettina."

Now he was almost an automaton, ramming into me like a piston as I screamed, "YESYESYES fucking YEEAAAHHHHH" I was only dimly conscious of Dave's own squealing and of his sperm pumping into me. He slowed down until he was just moving gently in and out as he caressed my face and lips with kisses. Soon he lay still on top of me, except for the occasional twitch from his prick inside me which set off lovely aftershocks for me, but he was shrinking.

Eventually his soft tool dropped away leaving me feeling empty but he knelt between my legs again and started licking me clean. I just love being licked clean. Not a lot of men are happy doing it but this was the first time a man had done it without being asked. I just lay there while his tongue probed as deep inside me as possible with the odd detour to my clitoris. Oh god, I was starting again as his steady rhythm stoked the fires once more. This time everything built up slowly and Dave was licking like he had nowhere more important to go than where he was right now. He even used the rougher texture of his beard over all my sensitive spots. As the feelings grew more and more intense I started moving my groin around but he hung on until I finally bucked and thrashed and came all over his face.

When I had calmed down he kissed my pussy lips then came to kiss me, but just briefly. He rolled over to his bedside cabinet, took out the makings of a spliff which he passed to me and asked me what I wanted to drink. I told him I really fancied beer, as it was such a hot day. He grinned: "You get busy on that spliff." He went to the kitchen and, a minute later he presented me with a pint glass which held some fairly dark liquid at the bottom. "Try this; it's my own brew."

I took a sip. It had a rich malty taste which I just had to roll round my tongue. "Oh, that's nice. Yes, I can drink that, please." I finished the rest of my sample and handed the glass back for a refill with a smile; I then returned to the spliff. Remembering last night, I made it very strong. I was just finishing when he returned with two full pint glasses. He put one on each bedside table then joined me on the bed, I was sitting cross-legged as I had been skinning up so he sat cross-legged with our knees touching.

We both took a decent drink then he lit the spliff and passed it over to me. We both took a couple of pulls and more beer. "Well," he said, "Stage One went OK. Now we're into Stage Two." His grin was infectious but I demanded to know what the two stages were.

"You wanted to be fucked while you were stone cold sober. Stage One done. Then you wanted, what did you say? You want to get very drunk, very stoned and very fucked. Stage two. We have drink, we have pot. Maybe we'll have to wait a while to finish Stage Two, I'm not so young as I was, but I hope we can have some fun along the way." All the time he was gently stroking and soothing my lower legs.

I reached out and pulled his face to mine. It was a bit awkward as we were both stretched but we clung to each other and kissed long and hungrily. The smoke was passing back and forth and we both kept sipping at our drinks. "You know, Dave, last night you were very concerned that I wanted you to take me, to bring me, home. You were protecting me, I know. But let me tell you, you were the one in danger of being raped last night. It's only fair I give you warning," I said: "pot makes me very horny, well, you saw that, and very kinky. At the Mall you asked me if I was adventurous or daring. How adventurous or daring can you be? do you want to be?"

"Bettina, I'm willing to try anything. If I honestly don't like something, I'll tell you - just as I hope you will tell me the same. To quote god knows who, 'I'll try anything once. Twice if I like it.'"

Bettina? That's twice he had used that name. Nobody had called me that before. I quite like it if that's what he wants to call me. "I can be a little rough." I told him.

"Ditto." He smiled and flicked his finger nail over a nipple harshly. I flinched, but not too much as the delicious thrill sparked from my nipple to the rest of my nerve endings."

"We should have limits," I said, "before we start, before we have any more smoke. No marks remain visible when wearing street clothing."

"That's reasonable. And no permanent damage."

"Absolutely none!"

Had I finally met somebody like me, who wasn't afraid to experiment with the unusual? My ex-husband wasn't happy when going beyond the missionary position. None of the other lovers I have had were willing to try things. This could be fun! I drained my beer and handed him the glass and pulled the makings towards me.

When he returned and put our glasses in place I had him stand by the bed with his legs open. He flinched more than I did when I flicked one of his testicles as hard as he had flicked my nipple. But he grinned and took a deep breath.

We lay side by side with Dave facing me as I lay on my back. His hand gently cupped my cheek and caressed it, then slowly moved over my lips which parted as he inserted the tip of a finger inside. I tried to suck it in but he was having none of that as his fingers moved feather-like below my ear and slowly stroked down my neck and onto my shoulder. My breathing was getting heavier as his fingers moved across one breast then the other but avoiding the nipples which were swollen and begging for attention.

One hand under my breast cupped it and gave it a loving squeeze before moving slowly, frustratingly, down over my fluttering tummy and drew some lazy circles around my navel before moving on and scratching ever so lightly over my lower abdomen, brushing my pubic hair but never giving my pussy any attention. He moved his hand down to my knee and started stroking up and down my inner thigh, always lifting away as it approached my waiting pussy. Again and again he brushed along the top of the hairs around my dripping slit. I needed him to touch me down there but he kept me waiting as his hand once again traversed up my body, stopping at all points and teasing all the way.

Now both hands came into play as he began to mould first one of my tits then the other. He left that off and turned my face towards his. His kiss was at first light and gentle as he sucked my bottom lip between his, but it became more intense as our tongues were doing a merry dance together. His hands were behind my head, thumbs playing with my ears as he licked up my neck and nibbled at my earlobe.

Now a hand was squeezing my tit again as his mouth sank wetly down to it and enclosed the nipple with firm suction. Both hands were making free with my breast, pummelling and scraping it while his mouth, tongue and teeth played havoc with my nipple. After several heavenly minutes one hand went to the other tit and gave that a work over as his head moved slowly south, fluttering gentle kisses and licks over every inch of my tummy. I was moaning and raising my hips to meet him as he got closer and closer to the promised land but again he bypassed my pussy and started nibbling up and down my inner thighs.

He moved over between my legs, pushing them wide apart and bending my knees. His hands gave my breasts a final squeeze then tickled their way down to the hot spot. God, I was going crazy with frustration as his hands went everywhere but where I wanted. He clenched his fingers in my pubic hair and tugged and tweaked at them then finally one finger traced down one of my pussy lips and up the other, making my hips buck wildly. God it was so lovely but I wanted, I needed, more. Round and round my labia that finger traced, sometimes so lightly I could scarcely feel it, other times more firmly. Finally his finger stroked my lips to the sides and pressed into the gap, not quite entering me. His other hand now came into play, spreading my lips wide and I could feel the cool air on my clitoris as the hood lifted.

Dave moved his head closer to my groin and I could feel him blowing on the wetness down there, but he left me high and dry as his hands made their slow, torturous way back up my body, pinching and scratching my flesh until they once more arrived at my breasts which received their own share of the little punishments the rest of my body had taken. Now my nipples were the focus of his attentions as they got squeezed, twisted and pulled every which way. They have always been sensitive and now there seemed to be a red hot wire connecting them and my clitoris.

He left off touching me for a few seconds, leaving me feel bereft as he stared lustfully at my trembling body. With a wicked grin on his face he went down just where I wanted. Suddenly his whole mouth was at work, his tongue lapping as far inside me as he could push it, his lips sucking at mine. And then his teeth suddenly nibbled my clitoris. I shrieked out loud and almost bucked him off me but he clung on like a limpet and kept working at my clitoris as volcanoes erupted throughout my body. Holy fuck, Dave had played me like a fine-tuned fiddle. And he had the knack of bringing me down, too: his mouth was much more loving and gentle as he soothed me back to Planet Earth and I wondered if I would ever experience it like that again.

I pulled my lover's head out of my groin and brought it up to my face. I could see that his beard was soaked and glistening with my fluids and as I kissed him feverishly I could taste myself.

But I wanted to taste him, all of him. I rolled us over so that he was on his back and I was half on top of him. I started with his mouth and explored that with my tongue. I tickled my tongue around his ear and lapped at the perspiration on his neck and down to his chest. The hair there was matted to the skin with sweat which I licked up avidly. I just love the taste of clean honest sweat and made my way under his arm which I sucked.

Meanwhile my hands roamed over his body but, maybe to get my own back for his teasing, I always skirted around the flesh rod which was jerking about for my touch. My other hand started playing with one of his nipples as I licked my way slowly to the other. I started nibbling at the hard nub which brought a groan from my lover. He liked rough play on his nipples. Well, we'll see about that, but later. Enough messing about, I thought; I want something more inside me than a finger. I need something substantial like the cock in my hand.

Without further ceremony I threw my leg right over him and hovered my gaping pussy just above his prick for a couple of seconds before I guided it into my passage and slid my pussy the full length of his meat.

I sat more or less upright, feeling his tool touch me in new places as I rocked back and forth, up and down. I reached behind me and played with his balls, not too gently but he just lay there and smiled although he winced now and then when I maybe squeezed or tugged a bit harder. Otherwise I was almost mesmerised by the way my boobs swayed over him as I rocked back and forth. He reached up and caught both of my nipples, just holding them between thumb and finger then he started squeezing, gently at first but with increasing pressure as the seconds ticked past.

Every time I rocked on his prick the squeeze tightened. Oh god, I couldn't take any more but I didn't want it to stop. I was coming in waves even though I had tears streaming down my face. Just as I closed my eyes in ecstasy the pressure went off my nipples and both his hands smacked my breasts together once, twice, three times. Three more little orgasms: it couldn't get better than this could it? Yes. I squeezed and pulled on his testicles as hard as I could and I hit my own max at his own tortured scream. The next thing I remembered was Dave kissing away my tears.

I suddenly realised that he hadn't come with me this time but he smiled and said it didn't matter. He was in no hurry, he was enjoying himself. I rolled him away and drained my beer again. It was almost becoming a ritual, he filled the glasses and I rolled the spliff. Dave suggested we might like to get some sunshine and we could continue messing around so long as there was no noise. His nearest neighbour had a severe hearing deficiency but there were others around who might hear them.

My lover got a large beach towel and spread it out in the full sun. He threw a couple of cushions down for us to rest on. He lay flat on his back and had to tilt his head to take a drink. I lay beside him, took a couple of pulls on the smoke and passed it to him. I turned towards him and rested my hand across his chest then started gently playing with his nipple. I rested my head on his chest as he inhaled deeply. I'm sure he was purring like a cat when I took his nipple in my mouth and teased it with my tongue and teeth.

He pulled me away by my hair, but gently, returned the spliff and as soon as I had taken a big draw, he pulled me into an open mouth kiss. Realising what he wanted, we passed the smoke back and forward between us. That must be about as intimate a way of smoking pot as you could get.

"I don't know about you," I said, finally breaking that kiss, "but I'm nicely stoned," I paused to down another slug of that beer, belched yeastily and continued, "nicely drunk and I've been very nicely fucked. Stage Two is nicely in progress." We shared another smoke, and another, until we had burned the spliff away and finished our drinks.

The beer was having an obvious effect on my bladder but I got a wicked idea. I stood straddling Dave with my feet between his body and his arms. I squatted down, holding his shoulders in place as my knees touched ground beside his head. I put a finger to my lips and pouted a kiss then moved my finger to his lips. As he kissed it I whispered to him, "Open wide. I need to pee."

He opened just in time as I released my flow and soon he was gulping rapidly but couldn't quite keep up so I lifted up a little and ran it all around his face before settling back on his mouth. When I was almost finished I told him to save some for me. I rolled off him and almost manhandled him over me and he delivered a kiss, spurting some of my urine into my mouth. The thrill of doing what we had just done was every bit as good as had imagined. I licked the wetness from his face so I could taste more. Dave seemed to have enjoyed it too; I noticed his tool, although not erect, was definitely showing some life.

My lover returned to the house and came back with a large tub of what turned out to be aqueous cream. "On your knees, bum high." I assumed the position; although not quite certain what he intended, I had good feelings about this. "Spread your cheeks." I reached back and made my rosebud open to his gaze. I waited with my face in the cushion so I couldn't see what was happening. I felt his beard first as it went between my bum cheeks and then his tongue came out probing, licking all around, teasing and testing at the entrance, probing inside. He kept this sybaritic worship of my arse going for heavenly ages then removed his mouth and I felt that cold cream being spread around and into the hole. Two then three fingers invaded me, each carrying their supply of lubricating cream until I was slippery as a fish around and inside my rectum.

He then had me turn over and onto my back with the two cushions under my hips. I had to pull my legs back as he knelt between then, lathering cream on his now hard prick. He smiled at me and started to spray my face and body with his pee. I tried to capture some it in my mouth and got just a taste before the stream stopped, his tool just slipped straight up my back passage. Jeez, he was filling me. Then I realised he really was filling me as I felt his piss flowing strongly up my arse, filling my belly. My own urine enema. I like this guy's ideas.

"I want a taste," I demanded. He kept the flow going then it sort of stopped filling. He pulled out and told me to hold it all in which was difficult after the poking my rectum had just received. I kept my legs in the air and Dave knelt by my face and let the last few spurts squirt into my open mouth. We shared the mouthful with another tongue-twirling kiss. But I had a problem - I needed to evacuate.

Dave smiled and stood up. We walked hand in hand to his bathroom and when I sat on the pot he sat facing me on my lap, fondling my breasts and kissing me as I sprayed the insides of the bowl. I had never moved my bowels in the presence of anybody before. I should have been so embarrassed but he just kept on kissing me and playing with my titties.

"Now, my lovely, you can have a regular enema if you want to get really clean inside. Then you can give me one, if you like." From a cupboard he retrieved an enema bag which he prepared. He had me bend down and I felt a cold slippery nozzle probing my arse and gaining entry. It seemed to travel a long way up then I felt the bulb swelling just the other side of my sphincter. He released valve and I felt the liquid gushing in at a painful speed. After a while he stopped the flow and massaged my abdomen then he started it up again but not so fast.

At last the bag was empty but everything was sloshing around inside me. Dave smiled at me and put another half bag up, attaching the valve again to the nozzle which was still trapped inside me. I groaned aloud as I felt the stream forcing its way in. The cramps were already kicking in but the flow was relentless. Eventually, when I was certain I would burst, it was all in. He uncoupled the tube and had me lay on the floor of the walk-in shower. He knelt beside me and gently massaged my stomach which seemed to ease the pain and he kissed me which helped take my mind off the cramps which had me whimpering into his kisses. Another age passed before he led me once more to the bowl and released the air in the bulb which he pulled clear with the help of the flood pushing it. Once more he sat on my lap kissing me.

Then it was his turn. He made up twice the amount and had to take it in two goes. I did everything as he had done for me and, when I sat on his lap as he evacuated, I fed him some tit. I suppose enemas are a bit messy but you always feel clean and fresh inside after one. Then we both stepped into the shower and soaped each other down thoroughly, not missing any sensitive spots which got that bit extra attention.

We refilled our glasses, went back outside to the garden again and sat facing each other sharing another spliff. The late afternoon sun was still warm on our naked bodies and the world felt good. We got down to touching and kissing a lot, just kind of lazing around and caressing each other all over.

Eventually Dave's hand started to do a little more than just touch and stroke me, concentrating more and more between my legs. Before too long I felt myself getting wetter and wetter down there as his fingers seemed to be stimulating me everywhere. He slipped a finger inside me and started a thrusting movement, his thumb brushing my clitoris with every stroke. It was lovely just laying back as his fingers worked their magic.

After endless ages the one finger was joined by another and, much later, three fingers were probing their gentle way inside my slick pussy. It felt like I was gushing buckets down there as I was hit by waves of pleasure spreading out from my pussy. He partially withdrew the fingers but made me gasp as the fourth was introduced. I just cannot describe what I felt as all four fingers were moving inside my pussy. Just when I was getting used to this massive invasion, I felt him tuck his thumb into his palm and push.

I wanted to scream that it was too much but couldn't get my breath. I was reduced to moaning in pain and pleasure as I felt his whole hand pushing me wider as it gained ground. Soon he was inside me up to the wrist - I could feel his hand trying to open and close inside - then he started pushing further and further into me until half his forearm was buried. He stayed still for a minute and I started to pull myself together. Holy shit, I thought, he's got his whole hand inside me. I felt totally stretched but I loved the pain and stimulation. Then he started to thrust it, drawing back until his wrist was outside then stroking it back inside me. Jeez, it felt like I was being fucked by a horse and I was an animal in my own passion. My whole body was thrashing around all over the place, tears were streaming from my eyes and I was absolutely bathed in sweat as his fist took me to heights I have never known. I was just coming and coming and coming, too weak to scream, all I could do was moan, "oh god, oh jesus, oh Dave..." over and over again.

All movement came to a halt inside me and we both lay there, me panting and feeling absolutely drained, Dave had a twinkle in his eye and a lovely smile on his face as he slowly withdrew his fist. A new wave of pain hit me as the widest part of his hand was pulled back but in a way I was already regretting that my exquisite ordeal was over. I became aware that my hole was now empty - god it felt so empty, too - not that I wanted anything in there just at present.

Very gently Dave stroked the sweat-matted hair off my face then kissed me so sweetly and held me in his arms. In fact I drifted off to sleep briefly but woke when he stood up, bent his knees, put his hands under my body then just lifted me off the ground. He carried me to the bath, lay me gently in it and turned the mixer on. I just hadn't realised the strength in his lithe little body. The tub filled with soothing warm water and he washed me all over with his shower gel and a huge sponge. He was ever so gentle down there but cleansed me thoroughly, even my hair.

He helped me step out of the bath and gently dried me down, kissing my pussy when he was bent down in that area, and kissing my breasts when he stood up again. Then he just held me close and kissed my mouth sensually without being demanding. I felt his penis hardening between us and reached down to grasp it, encouraging it to grow.

I led him by the penis back to the garden and had him on his back. I kissed and licked every inch of his body, giving his cock and balls very limited attention this time round. His nipples, however, got lots of consideration. I concentrated on just one nipple, sucking and nibbling at it then finally biting down really hard. "Sheesh," was what he gasped as he pulled my face harder into his body. "Oh yes, harder," I heard him say as he pushed my hand down to his groin but I denied him that pleasure as I went to work on the other nipple, finishing with the same harsh bite.

Now I was ready to kiss down his body to his equipment. His tool was rampant so I took it into my mouth then did something I found that men loved: without pausing I sank down and felt it going right into my throat. It had been quite a while since I had had a tool in my mouth, let alone deep-throating it so I had to fight the gag reflex for a second or two. I very quickly got into a rhythm I knew, just managing very quick breaths as I pulled all the way back so just the bulb was in my mouth then plunging back down again. All the while I was fondling his balls. I could feel my saliva dripping down my chin so I soaked my finger in it and worked the finger into his bum. I curled my finger inside and massaged his prostate.

There is no way any man can last with his tool deep in a woman's throat while she is playing with his balls and massaging his prostate. I felt his pulsing start. Simultaneously I rammed his cock down my throat, my finger up his bum and squeezed the shit out of his testicles. I heard him choke back a scream and thought briefly, "oh shit, neighbours!" But it was quickly forgotten as I was rewarded with his sperm squirting into my throat and, as I pulled back, into my mouth. My hand milked his balls as my mouth milked his prick and his hands were clenched in my hair as he spent himself. He was as delicious as I had hoped. I wiped the last drips onto my lips and shared it with him in a loving kiss, him thanking me over and over. Well, after what he had done for me so far today, it was worth it and I had really enjoyed pleasuring him.

We stayed cuddled up together until early evening when Dave woke me from a doze. "Time to refuel," he said. "I'll phone for a couple of pizzas. Or would you prefer Chinese?"

"Oh, Chinese please, Dave."

He went into the house and returned with a Chinese takeaway menu. I made my selection. Dave went back and returned saying "Fifteen minutes," then, with a wicked grin he continued, "and you get to answer the door. Wearing just your panties. Bring him into the foyer to pay him."

"Oh, you are sooooo bad, Dave." But my heart was beating heavily and my pussy was buzzing at the thought of exposing myself at close quarters to a total stranger. We shared a couple of quick pipes and another glass of beer, him naked and me wearing just my knickers which were, fortunately, opaque.

Eventually the door chimes sounded. I was trembling as I peeped round the door and invited him in to the foyer. Pushing the door closed, I reached into my panties, gave him a £20 note and told him to keep the change. I was trying to be as nonchalant as possible as I took the parcel from him ushered the flustered young man out of the door and, as soon as I closed and locked it, I burst into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, Dave, you should have seen his face. He couldn't take his eyes off my tits. And, would you believe I enjoyed embarrassing him - and myself!"

"Chopsticks or knife and fork," he asked, and seemed pleased when I told him chopsticks. "Chinese doesn't taste right without chopsticks," he informed me, and I had to agree. We finished our meal talking little, washing it all down with his delicious beer. It was the last of his home brew although he said another batch would be ready in a couple of days.

We shared washing the pots and went into the living room. Dave asked me if I wanted more vodka and Campari. I've never been a heavy drinker but I felt like getting really sozzled so happily agreed. For maybe an hour, we sat there talking, smoking pipes and drinking, now and then reaching across the chairs to kiss each other passionately.

We both had to use the bathroom but I got on my knees and told him to pee. I took his tool in my mouth as the first spurt hit me full in the face, dripping down my body as I gulped his stream as fast as I could, but it was too much and my front just got wetter and wetter. I pulled my mouth away before he finished and just sprayed the rest over my face. Then it was my turn. He had me crouch over his face and let go. He clamped his lips to my pussy and swallowed rapidly, a couple of times raising me up so his face got the treatment before pulling me back down so he could drink his fill. We quickly showered then went into his big bed. I was desperate for some manflesh in my cunt so I spread my legs and ordered him to fuck me.

I felt his hands parting my pussy lips, feeling them slide through my juices, and then his lovely cock rammed home and then just pounded in and out He grabbed my ponytail and pulled my head back hard so I was arching up while he continued to ram me like a robot until I was screaming his name and calling all the deities to attend me. He did not come but again he said it was not important, just that we enjoy it.

We were both bathed in sweat and I took the opportunity to lick him all over. He was nice and salty. I turned him over and licked some more. As I got close to his buttocks, I bent forward and kissed his rosebud. He squirmed a little in pleasure as I licked right over the little ring of muscles then worked my tongue inside, knowing he was clean after our earlier enemas. I had an idea. Leaving him there I retrieved the aqueous cream and returned to him and my task of licking his arse, shoving a couple of pillows under him to lift it for my ministrations

When everything was wet with saliva, I introduced my middle finger and slid it all the way in. I bent and twisted my finger inside him as he pushed back. I reached a scoop of cream and spread it all round the hole, my fingers working more cream into the tight passage. By now I had three fingers in him and he showed no signs of discomfort. My fourth finger joined them; that made him flinch but I persevered.

"What's sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose," I told him as I curled my thumb in and pushed against the resistance. For several minutes I just moved it gently in and out a quarter inch until finally he relaxed again. It was then I pushed harder and soon my hand was sunk up to my wrist. Dave just grunted with every movement. I felt round his body and his tool was rampant and copiously leaking pre-ejaculate. The pillow under him was soaking wet.

After a long time in which my hand had been penetrating even further, Dave finally said, "Enough, My Bettina. I'm getting a little sore down there."

He still had not come but he assured me he had enjoyed it enormously and I was no longer worried that he was not 'satisfied'. I got a towel from the bathroom and cleaned us both of the surplus cream.

For the rest of the evening we made slow, passionate love in all positions you could name until he finally came down my throat as his tongue gave me my final orgasm.

We kissed, softly, gently, as we lay side by side and he fell asleep within a couple of minutes and I was exhausted after more fucking than I had ever experienced so I quickly joined him in dreamland.

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