I trawl sites with very old stories and find the odd gem just crying out for improvement. This is a found, badly written, poor grammatical and difficult to understand at times story.
Always having a thing for older chubby women, they had to have grand saggy tits, arse, big pussy lips and clitoris, but the latter is a bit of a rarity I found. I guess it stems from my own childhood, Mum, sister and an aunty, not knowing their intimacies – but I was swamped in wobbly white flesh and the nice thing was, big cheery faces and expressions, rarely angry. A new elderly neighbour four doors down the road was perfect to ogle from a distant, persuading me to walk to the local shop, rather than drive, if I could see her in the front doing a bit of gardening which she loved, judging by her exertions, always alone- no sign of a man.
I met this lady a few months ago one evening, when I strolled by on the way back with minimal shopping; I’d only gone out to leer at her, meaning to pause and comment on the hot weather, a usual thing for us suburban Brits to chat about.
“Hello Mrs ... er I’m a neighbour, number sixtynine, Sean’s my name ... looks like a problem,” I added nodding down at the lawnmower she was having difficulty with.
“Not Mrs any more,” she told me wistfully. “Daphne ... Daphne Ormitroyd. Pleased to meet you Sean ... bloody thing. Brand new as you can see, engine just won’t start.”
I mused on how I could easily start her engine. Only need to find the primer button! She was just like my Mum, gingery white hair, a bit thin on top in places, but that’s ageing and also thin hair. Even though she was stressed, Daphne’s face beamed up at me, a picture of friendly acceptance and agreeance, from where she was surprisingly squatting for her age and size next to the green and yellow machine. I beamed down at the bounteous cleavage and edges of a white brassiere she exposed, her flouncy blue gingham, puff shouldered blouse, low and wide across the scoop neck. She wore close fitting jeans with an old fashioned flare at the legs. They were very grubby and I reckon saved as gardening scruffs from years back. She had bare feet.
The mower came to life, it was simple really, a switch she hadn’t found, but elderly ladies and mechanical stuff don’t often mix in my view. She straightened up accepting my hand support and I caught her glance at my crotch. I wasn’t hard, but semi erect, the view, her absolute charm and the huge hug titillating my 24 year old senses. Wanting to pay me Daphne made to go indoors telling me to wait till she got her wallet so I thanked her for the offer but refused any money.
“At least let me give you dinner, it’s on now be about and hour, surely that’s OK?”
I was getting hungry, lived alone and didn’t know what I was going to cook, if anything, more likely get yet another Chinese takeaway and agreed looking at my watch. Daphne took an unintentional hint, put two two together, thought I was a busy young man, she was so grateful then she blew my mind.
“I’ve got time if you haven’t but you must be thanked properly ... er ... well lets put it this ... way ... er,” she stuttered, her eyes fluttering and sweeping over my sturdy structure, back to my crotch. “Will you let me fuck you then?”
Fuuurrrck! Just like that, straight out. She grasped my hand, dragging me indoors to a bedroom at the back of her very old fashioned bungalow. In there she just started taking off her clothes. Nodding and smiling I should do the same. I stripped my T shirt off but she stopped me, coming and ripping my jeans down. I don’t wear underwear, so my cock snapped up at full mast. Daphne, chuckled throatily, flopped back onto the bed and pulled me down between her mature fleshy wobbly legs to push my face into her pussy. Shit! it was lovely. Bulging, fat and there had been a big bush but the grey pubes had thinned out. Huge textured cunt lips parted with her legs wide apart, she had a tremendous gape revealing a mammoth hood and I knew what was under it, in fact I could see.
Her clitoris had to be at least one inch or more long with a cute indent on the tip like a mini penis. I dove right in sucking, nibbling, licking all that pussy, loving the way her meat curtains quivered with my action. Daphne wriggled in ecstasy, pushing me tighter, gurgling with delight.
“Give you a bonus Sean, turn on your back,” she murmured. For a big old lady she had remarkable agility but I’d seen evidence when she gardened. Straddling over me, my world suddenly went dark as Daphne queened me, holding me down there as if afraid I would leave. I feasted on her pussy.
She was asking if I liked her pussy, if I wanted to fuck it. I could hardly hear her such was the volume of mountainous flesh round my face. That was cruel in a way, talking to me in that state ... I didn’t know what else was in store for me! When I finally managed to say yes, she argued that little dick bitches like me didn’t get to fuck her, they got fucked. What was this? A trap of some sort.? She had changed completely from poor helpless suburban old lady to a dominant sex being. I think I followed her drift as I have experimented with various objects up my arse.
“Lay there and don’t touch that sissy cock, I’ll be back in a min.” She must have gone to the bathroom as I could see hear running water in the tub.
“Get your sissy arse in here now and crawl like a bitch dog,” she commanded.