An Extraordinary Old Woman, a Willing Young Man - Cover

An Extraordinary Old Woman, a Willing Young Man

Copyright© 2018 by storyace

Chapter 1

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A 19 year old gap year traveler meets a 72 year old lady doctor on a remote Scottish island.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Doctor/Nurse  

I could barely walk by the time I made it to the doctor’s office, or “surgery” as they called it.

An old woman sat behind a desk doing some paperwork. “Can I help ye?” she said in the thick accent of the Scottish islands.

“Would it be possible to see the doctor right away?” I asked.

“What’s yere problem then?” she asked, staring at me with huge blue eyes through large round glasses.

“I have a pain in my groin.” I said. “Are you the doctor?”

“Aye, I am.” She said, getting up. She was thin, and as high as my nose. She wore a simple white dress that could almost have been a uniform, but could also just be a dress.

“Come in the back and drop you drawers.” she said.

I decided it wouldn’t have been any more comfortable if it were a man. Anyway, I already knew she was the only doctor on the island.

“Lie on the bench and roll onto your side. Are you here on holiday?”

“Yes, gap year.” I said.

“Lift your leg so I can see. Oh my, have you been camping out?”

“No, but I did have to squat in the bushes a few times.”

“A nasty bite it looks like to me, insect of some sort.” She said. “Is your urine normal?”

“Not really.” I said, “It’s a bit painful.”

“Well then I’ll have to look a little closer to be sure it’s nothing serious.” She said. “Have you ever had a prostate exam? No, of course you haven’t, you’re but a lad.”

She pulled a latex glove onto her right hand. “Relax, it has to be done.” She said, squeezing some clear lubricant onto her finger. “It’s not my favorite task either.”

I resigned myself to what was about to come. I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t.

It was just the weirdest feeling ever; an insertion. And I got a hardon.

There was nothing I could do about it, I tried to will it down. My pants were around my knees and I was lying in my side with an old woman’s finger up my ass. I didn’t think I was sexually excited, but the sensation seemed to trigger a reflex.

Her finger squirmed around in there for a few seconds. “Try to relax, you’re making it difficult.” She said, “Just surrender.”

“Sorry, I’m trying.” I said, worried that she might find my stiff cock that was barely blocked from her view by my thigh.

Jesus, I was getting finger fucked in the butt by a Scottish granny lady; of all the things that had happened to me since leaving home, this had to be the one I’d most want to remain secret. And I’d been to Amsterdam!

The finger stimulated me in an odd way that I found simultaneously exiting and distressing. My cock was as hard as it had even been, and I was deeply embarrassed. I felt humiliated in an oddly exhilarating way.

“Ok, everything seems well in there.” She said. “Your testicles seem a bit enlarged; or are they always like that?”

“I guess they are.” I said as she pulled out the finger and stripped off the glove.

“Well hold still, I’d better have a feel.” She said neutrally, “Can’t be helped, has to be done.”

She started fingering my balls, working her way around the sack. My enlarged penis was still under my leg, and she was working from behind; but I knew she could feel the base during her investigation. The old woman feeling me up knew she was causing me to be aroused.

“Does that hurt at all?” she asked.

“No.” I said. At least she didn’t ask me if it felt pleasant, which would have been a more embarrassing question.

“Have you had any trouble ejaculating?” she asked.

“I haven’t had opportunity to try lately.” I said, still managing to keep calm.

She laughed then, breaking the thin ice in the cold office. “Well we won’t be checking on that just now.” She said. “You can put your clothes on. I want to send some blood and urine to the mainland for testing, just to be sure, but I think it’s just a bite. You must be staying at the inn?”

“Actually I was going to take the boat to the next island today.” I said.

“Oh, you don’t want to do that in your condition.” She said. “I’ll give Gladys a call and see if she has a room fer ye.”

She put in the number and talked to the inn. “Nothing?” she asked. Away! Well, ta anyhow Gladys.” She put down the phone. “Tourist season.” She explained, “You’ll have to stay here with me.”

I helped cook dinner and we ate together; I didn’t even realize at first that we were flirting. I began to notice that she was actually pretty hot.

That was weird; she was 60 or 70 years old [74 it turned out]. How could she possibly have any sex appeal to a fit young male like me?

She had those big clear blue eyes, straight teeth, and a great figure. Firm ass I noticed as she walked into her kitchen.

Her hair was glorious gleaming white, and fell around her face casually yet flirtatiously, as if it were natural for a woman of her age.

Her face was that of an old woman; at the same time, it was beautiful. She had deep lines around her eyes and mouth, but her jaw retained its femininity and she had no hint of facial hair. Mostly though, it was her eyes.

She had deep blue eyes that seemed to glow with their own power in the dim light of the small room, eyes that saw deep into whatever they focused on. Those eyes were powerful weapons, they could spear a man if he let his guard down. She could be an angel, or a witch. Or just an bright amazing woman.

“We won’t be having any wine with dinner.” She told me, “You’re on antibiotics and I don’t need to be getting any sillier than I already am around attractive men.”

We both laughed; but we both remembered her fingers on my balls, and I was sure she’d noticed my erection.

She’d been born on the island, went to school on the mainland, worked in Glasgow for most of her life, then returned here to semi-retirement when she was 60. She’d had 2 marriages, one of which had lasted 46 years until he had died a few years before.

“So since then you’ve been fending for yourself out here?” I asked.

“Yes, it’s fine as long as I’m still basically healthy.” She said. “I suppose I could get someone in to help, but there are no young people out here anymore, the kids all move to the city. I don’t want to end up with 2 old sick people trying to look after each other, so I live alone. So how are your testicles feeling?”

“Does that have some connection to you living alone?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.

She laughed, revealing herself somehow. I found myself smiling, just enjoying looking at her, being with her, getting to know her. Her flowing white hair was gleaming in the soft light of her small living room, the fire crackled and filled the room with a friendly smell. The night outside was dark and endless, there was no one else nearby, no one to judge either of us, to frown on our fun little perverse flirtation.

“Why, would you like me to examine them again?” she asked, half joking.

“I would.” I answered neutrally, so she could take it or leave it.

“And what about the anal exam, did you enjoy that as well?” she asked.

“No comment.” I said, this time looking into her eyes for an extra, meaningful second.

“Well that’s a bit too fast for me, dear. I don’t know how you young people do things these days, but in my time we would have a few dates first.”

I leaned back, releasing her. “Sorry.” I said, “I didn’t mean to be inappropriate.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you did.” She said, standing up and gathering the plates. “I’m quite flattered. Mind you, I still get plenty of attention, but not from lads your age. I’m 74 dear, I’m no longer interested in that sort of thing.”

I stayed silent, embarrassed. I was relieved and thankful that she’d cleared the air, and I was also a little bit disappointed. That was strange.

I helped by drying the dishes as she washed. I was fine standing still, it only hurt when I walked.

We talked some more after dinner; I’d left home with my girlfriend, but we separated in London and went our separate ways.

“Did she meet someone?” the doctor asked.

“Yes.” I said, “We were staying at a squat and I caught her coming out of another guy’s room.”

“Could it have been innocent?”

“She didn’t lie about it.” I said, “She decided to stay there with him, and I went on alone.”

“That must have hurt.” She said.

“Yes.” I said, “But I guess it happens to everyone at some point.”

“It does.” She said, “Bit it hurts just the same. Go to bed now, and we’ll see how you’re doing in the morning.”

She woke me with a soft knock just after dawn; she came into my small cold room wearing a quilted nightcoat, as if she’d just gotten out of bed. But her hair was lustrously brushed, and she wore a touch of perfume. She sat on the edge of my bed.

“Are you feeling better this morning? Has the swelling gone down?” she asked.

“I think it has.” I said.

“Perhaps I should have a look.” She said. “Although, I have to be honest, it isn’t really necessary.”

She looked away. “I mean, if you tell me the swelling is going down, that’s sufficient, really.”

“Are you trying to say you’d like to look anyway?” I asked, still waking up.

“Well ... yes.” She said. “If you want me to.”

She looked at me again, and I had to smile at her.

My mind tried to catch up with the situation; my dick was stirring under the covers, and my face was flirting with the old doctor again. Did I really want her? Would I do it with a woman as old as my grandmother? I was 19 and I needed to do it constantly. If she wanted me, she could have me.

She was so cute, with her big eyes and white hair. She smiled back, and the pact was made. The lonely old woman and the lonely young man were going to fool around.

I pulled the quilt slowly to the side, over my knees, exposing myself to her. But this time it was different; she wasn’t here as my doctor. She was here as a woman.

My cock seemed to feel her gaze, and it pulsed, inflating a little and shifting position on my thigh. She reached for it, and took it in her hand. My cock responded to the delicious sensation, swelling pleasantly.

“I don’t want to have sex.” She said, “My body is too delicate for that now. And to be honest, I lost the ability to have an orgasm long ago.”

She stroked me, her hand sliding up and down my stiff length with a light sensuous touch.

“But I do find this enjoyable.” She continued.

“Me too.” I said.

She shifted her slim body so she was sitting between my open legs. I felt delightfully vulnerable; compromised, I was a baby to her. It was great and kinky.

She took my balls in her other hand, playing with me, fondling my genitalia.

“I could make you ejaculate.” She said softly, “Would you like that?”

“I sure would.” I said, truly enjoying myself.

“You find me attractive then?” she asked.

“I think you’re gorgeous.” I said.

“For a 74 year old woman you mean.” She said.

“Because you’re a 74 year old woman.” I said. “It’s easy to be beautiful when you’re young. But I’ve never met a beautiful woman your age before.”

“That’s very kind of ye.” She said, “But it’s your lust talking. Hormones. If you have an orgasm, your brain will be flooded with endorphins and such, and as it fades away you’ll see me differently. You’ll see me as an extremely unsuitable mate, an old pervert taking advantage of you. And you’ll be right.”

“No, I would never think that.” I objected, not wanting it to end.

She smiled at me indulgently, her fingers continuing their beautiful game on my organ.

“I’ll just have to prove it to you.” She said, and went down on me.

I pulled the quilt away completely, the cold air in the room was icily pleasant against my skin as I felt the heat of my old lover’s mouth against my hard young penis. I looked into her wild blue eyes, and she looked back as she sucked me slowly deeper.

She grew more radiant, more beautiful, more wise and powerful as my lust for her increased, as my cock quivered and bulged in her experienced mouth, as her soft gentle fingers tortured my balls with pleasure. She was the doctor of ecstasy, the Scottish witch, sucking the essence from a willing young man.

She stopped and pulled away, holding my wet pulsing rod at the base.

“We’ll just give this a moment to cool down.” She said, “There’s no hurry, is there now?”

“None at all.” I agreed as the tension eased. “I don’t have to go to school today.”

“When you’re talking to a woman my age, it’s better to refer to going to work.” She chided me. “I can’t believe it, I’m pleasuring a school boy.” She said, then lowered her face over me again for another round of wild sensation.

“You know,” she said, coming up for another break, “I haven’t done this for years. I’d forgotten what fun it can be.”

“I’m glad to be of service.” I said.

She laughed again, her eyes crinkling as she opened her mouth for my cock again.

She was teasing me to madness; I had to come! She seemed to detect my desperation, and she gave me that one last stroke with her lips that pulled me over the top. I groaned in agonized rapture, grabbed her old head between my hands, and held her there as I shot her mouth full with everything I had.

“Mmmmmmmmm!” she moaned, holding my cock tight with her hands and lips, “Mmmm!”

She sucked and pulled for the last drop, then held me in her mouth for another minute as I shrank back to normal. I became aware of my hands and released her.

“Come down stairs for breakfast when you’re ready.” She said as she stood. She gathered her quilted coat around her slim form and went out and down the stairs.

I lay still for a few minutes, satiated but confused. It had been a great sensual blow job, by a sexy woman I’d been hot for. But now I saw her differently; I was disgusted with myself for having wanted her in the first place, how could I have been so mindlessly horny? She was as old as the hills; I really had to get out of there, away from this weird island, and back on my tour.

I had a shower, noticing that the bathroom had cracks in the grouting and hints of mould in the upper corners. When I went downstairs, Ava was working over a pot of porridge.

“Hungry?” she asked.

“Yes.” I said.

“I’m sorry about this morning.” She said, “I was enjoying your company so much, and our little flirting. Now I’m afraid I’ve ruined it.”

“It’s ok.” I lied, “I could have stopped you if I wanted to.”

“Ah, but you’re just a boy.” She said, “A healthy strong lad like you just needs constant release, you couldn’t resist me first thing in the morning, and I knew that, and I took advantage of you. Now don’t say a thing for a moment, I know what I am; I’m not always a good person. I have my little weaknesses like everyone else.

“If you start walking for hours, the chaffing will likely cause you trouble. You shouldn’t leave yet, not for another day or two. But don’t worry, I won’t trouble you, we can just pretend that this morning never happened. I won’t be coming to your room again.”

I ate my breakfast in silence, conflict flashing through my skull. I really did have to stay; I shouldn’t resent her for what she did, it wasn’t rape or anything. She was decent and deserved respect I suddenly realized, I was a shit for resenting her or begrudging her the semen I’d been so willing to release anyway.

Besides, she still had a great figure.

I don’t like to be idle, so I made myself useful, cleaning her kitchen completely, inside the cupboards and under the sink. I did both bathrooms, using bleach to kill and clean the mold stains. I took the rugs outside and shook them, moved the sofa to vacuum underneath, and generally did those things that needed more muscle or height than the good old doctor had to spare.

She saw a couple of patients, and went out for a walk to the shop, returning after a couple of hours. I helped her make dinner, and we ate together again. And again, we flirted.

I couldn’t stop myself, she was too much fun. She was full of stories and jokes, her laugh was contagious, her eyes seemed to drink me like wine. They sucked me in again, grabbed my balls as firmly as her soft little hand had done. She was small, old, and weak. But she still had power in her.

“Oh my, we’re at it again, aren’t we?” she said, standing to take the plates. She wore a long beige dress that should have been dowdy, but seemed to just emphasize her impressive contours.

“Thank you for all the work you did today.” She said, “It gets hard for me out here by myself.”

“I’m happy to help, it makes me feel useful.” I said as I dried and put the dishes away.

Suddenly she was very close to me, and we were looking into each other’s eyes again. My cock twitched and I felt a little lump in my throat. Her body was small and vulnerable, all I had to do was reach out and take her in my arms; she wanted me, I wanted her, so what was the wrong in it?

“You’re looking at me in that way again.” She said.

“Sorry.” I said, stepping back.

“Look, I’m really flattered.” She said, “But you know it’s not natural. Let’s just keep it platonic, all right?”

“Of course, yes.” I said, embarrassed.

But later, she stopped on the first stair as she was heading to her bedroom. She turned and looked at me. “My door won’t be locked.” She said, and went up.

I sat still, stunned. Did she mean I was invited? What else could she mean? What was that odd emotion I was feeling, that desire to please her, to be close to her? I imagined holding her face to my crotch and pushing my cock into her pretty mouth again, but the thought didn’t really appeal to me. I got up and turned off the lights, then went upstairs; on top of the landing, there were two doors. I knew she’d heard me on the stairs, I knew she was in her room, waiting to find out which door I would choose.

I thought of the cold bed waiting for me in the guest room, I thought of the warm friendly one that I’d been invited to share. How could I refuse her hospitality? I was 19, and she was amazing.

To still be sexy at her age, to have done what she did in her life, to be living out here on this cold windy rock alone ... I was just passing through, in a couple of days I’d be moving on. So why not keep each other warm on this dark lonely night? Anyway, she’d already said she didn’t want sex. I wasn’t sure what I wanted either, surely not that. But the idea of cuddling with her was appealing, of keeping the lonely old woman company, of comforting her with my energy. I had so much of it after all, more than enough to share.

I entered. There was one dim light on the bedside table, Ava was already under her large quilt. I stood still for a moment, still not sure.

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