Doris Winston was born before the start of World War Two somewhere near the Canadian border but she was definitely an American citizen despite no documentation to that effect since the only records storage building in the county had burned down sometime in the mid-fifties from a lightning strike of some magnitude that destroyed almost an entire town block of businesses and residences on the downtown side of the river that flowed peacefully into the huge lake that separated two states geographically in a way that made a wide gulf between people within walking distance from each other forever and a day.
Yes, Doris was exactly two days shy of being eighty-one years old and she was not quite as attractive as she was in her prime although she was not all that dissatisfied with what she saw in the mirror as she was a creature of eternal hope and with a romantic nature that considered age of no consequence in matters of the heart.
She had been married four times and all of her husbands were dead and buried now. Well, all but Sydney who was cremated by the furnace down near the waterfront because he didn’t want to go to the expense of the regular way of exiting the world like everyone else. He was up on her ledge over the fireplace now and she had a sense he was watching her just like he had done all their married life to see if she was “fooling around” with the factory workmen all juiced up with booze and vim and vigor to nail a local woman just to say they had.
Her hair was still that nice honey tint and she had never used any colors or dyes in it like her young sister Alice, God rest her soul, with her constant chasing after the uniformed men that sailed the river and the lake and the coastline watching for smugglers and criminals not wanted inside our borders to make trouble for honest, hard-working citizens.
She had been on the Social Security now for almost twenty years and it seemed like she was robbing the government because she never made as much money as they had already paid her just to be still alive and kicking after all these many years.
Strangely, her children were all dead for one reason or another, but her grandchildren were all over the place even up to the Great Pacific Northwest where she had always wanted to go but never had the gumption.
She looked at the romance novel on her lap and her thoughts turned to sex.
It seemed like sex was on her mind a lot these days now that she wasn’t getting any to speak of and the memory of it was uppermost on her mind and she wished she could find some partner to give her a tingle like in the old days when she almost fell out of bed with the sheer power and the glory of it from her scalp to her toes like some magic formula that kept her young and vigorous and put a little gleam in her eye when she looked at some of the working men sweating in the noonday sun.
The main female character in her romance novel was called Susan and she was a widow at thirty and in dire need of masculine attention at a time when she had all the juices and energy of a woman in her prime and wanting to be taken in any position a man might desire. In fact, she would have done it upside down on her head if it kept him nice and hard and deep inside her where she liked it best of all.
Doris thought that Susan was silly for not dropping to her knees and sucking off the male character called Charlie just because he was married and had five children at home over a thousand miles away. The man was a horny as could be and she was certain if Susan would only open her mouth to suck the poor man instead to making all that insipid conversation, he would be happy, she would be happy and a tingle could be had by all.
She felt certain the poor man’s wife would not mind just as long as the fool didn’t tell her about his escapades working such a distance from home.
Doris looked at the photo of Charlie on the cover and thought that he looked the type that would bend a woman over and make her take it from behind like the dogs or the horses down in the barn. She had taken it that way countless times and with all of her husbands. It was one of her favorite positions along with the one when she was down on all fours and looking over her shoulder at the cock sliding between her heart-shaped cheeks like some sword of righteous justice delivering the needed tingle that made her whole.
She even considered getting up from the rocking chair and getting one of her battery powered boyfriends from the bedroom drawer to give her a little buzz even though it was still officially morning and it seemed a bit over the top to start off the day with masturbating right out on the front porch with lots of people walking past.
Doris even had a nice supply of the butt plugs that she liked to wear when she went shopping because it made her walk a bit stilted in her high heels and she knew her ass cheeks could still be a bit perky with the combination of the heels and the plug that made her nice and up tight.
It had been a long, long time since Doris had actually taken a real cock in her ass but she remembered it with fond memory because it was the reverend Simmons sent to the failing church to try and whip it back into financial shape for continuation as part of the community.
The reverend was gone now as was the church because most of the young people had all moved down to the big city to make the kind of income that they really needed to get the things they wanted in this world. One couldn’t blame them for that although the town suffered a lot from the disinterest and the general failure of the local government to maintain it in the proper manner with regard to infrastructure and common sense.
The reverend Simmons was one of those really obsessed “ass-men” that used and abused her bottom every which way but Sunday and she loved every minute of it. None of her husbands had the reverend’s skills in anal humping and she wished she had been a younger woman because she was certain he would have taken her with him when he returned to his hometown and a dismal life of solitude in a rectory filled with regret.
She went back inside the house and got a soft pillow for her bottom.
The chairs were a bit hard without a proper cushion and she needed that padding because she had lost her extra weight by doing the yoga and the exercises she found in the women’s magazine that declared they were designed for people in their eighties just like her. Her jeans fit a whole lot better now and she could see her old heart-shaped figure pop out like an old friend being the last thing over the fence when she had to cross some farmer’s field.
The screen door slammed shut and she saw a tall dark-skinned driver standing with a delivery for Mister Nash in the basement. She knew the old man was probably out until noon-time because he was hitting the sauce pretty hard at midnight and listening to the old swing music that she used to love to dance to whenever she went down to the beach. None of the radio stations played that anymore and she figured the old guy probably had a bunch of vinyl records that he had picked up at some flea market in the shabby part of town.
“I will sign for him, driver, to save you another trip for no reason.”
She signed her name on the bottom of the ticket and the driver pushed the box under her chair with his booted foot. She tried not to make it obvious but she took a good look at his package sitting serenely inside his short tight pants and it made her a little nervous because she sensed it was oversized and ready for action.
“That is nice of you, lady. Usually most people just ignore me and hope I go away and not disturb them from whatever it is that they are doing.”
“Despite the fact I am a white lady and you are much darker, you remind me of my grandson Albert in those shorts. He loves to wear those shorts in the hot weather. I guess they are the uniform for the drivers these days because of the heat.”
The driver sat down opposite her in the straight chair that didn’t rock and she saw his bulge actually get a bit larger like he was becoming aware of the fact she was white, female and wearing jeans that fit unusually well for a person of her mature years.
“The female drivers love these things, but most of the guys are embarrassed because sometimes when we guys get a little aroused down there it is hard to miss our excitement.”
Doris could see that would be a drawback for some of the men but she privately thought that it was more of a benefit than a problem for older women like herself that enjoyed looking even if she didn’t get any action because of her advanced years.
“My grandson was rather large in the family jewels department and I always thought he thought that advertising never hurt when you wanted to display a product.”
The driver laughed and told her,
“My name is Jake and I get that sort of thing all the time on the route. Everybody gets lonely from time to time and a little up close and personal contact never hurt anyone.”
Doris looked Jake right in eye and motioned him to come closer. He leaned forward until his head was almost at her cheek and she told him,
“May I ask you to do me a favor and check out my bottom behind that screen? I will pull my jeans down and you just look and give me an honest opinion if you might be interested in having a go at my bum or do me from behind like the dogs do over in the junkyard.”
The delivery man laughed and agreed to her request.
As soon as they were behind the folded screen, she dropped her jeans and her red French knickers as well so he could see her up close and make a judgement about her appeal to his base instincts.
He didn’t say anything and when she looked over her shoulder, Doris saw that he had done the same and his long thick cock was standing out like a flagpole and he was aiming it right at her cleft with an accurate angle that would insure deep burial if she bent over slightly and spread her cheeks for his happy ending.
The eighty-one year old Doris sighed with the insertion of the hard as a rock cock and the delivery man slapped her buttocks with his rough workman’s hands. She heard the sound of her humiliation and she loved every second of it.
Doris reached out and grabbed hold of the railing for her balance and open her knees to allow him greater penetration because this was an opportunity that she didn’t want to miss for any reason at all.
The tall, dark-skinned man pounded the senior citizen’s joyous buttocks and Doris started to go into a long-delayed and familiar orgasm that usually made her cry with happiness and spray her female juices in every direction like some bitch marking her territory for future reference.
They finished up just before the mailman arrived at the curb with a packet of letters.
Doris pulled up her jeans and the delivery man smoothed out his shorts.
The mailman wasn’t born yesterday and he just smiled because he now knew the old blond was one of those juicy ones that didn’t mind a little slap and tickle every now and then. He filed it away for future reference and watched her walk back into the building with her heart-shaped eighty-one year old buttocks swaying every which way but loose.
Doris decided that her eighties were still a good decade for humping and that she would call it a day at ninety unless they discovered some new formula for reversing the life cell aging process and she could re-live some of her younger mistakes all over again with better results.
(Doris goes into the assisted living condos)
Now that she was over eighty, Doris decided that it was time for her to go into the highly recommended “assisted living” facility recently opened just down the street from her villa that was one of a series of identical units that were close together but still separate from each other and did not have common walls.
She had liked the villas because they were priced right and she hated the ones that were connected in a line of four or six units with common walls and a common roof and attic that made really a single large structure with multiple units all connected together. She also liked the fact that there was nobody living underneath her or above her like they would stack the dead bodies down in New Orleans in cemeteries that were all above ground due to the high water table on the Gulf of Mexico.
This neighborhood in Florida had an awful lot of newly built “assisted living” and “skilled nursing” and even “elder care” facilities of late and she suspected it was because so many older folks from up north had decided to retire in the southern State because the weather was so nice all year round.
One of the things she had liked about her villa was that she had a nice yardman that came once a week to do the grass and the bushes and he didn’t mind humping her for no charge provided she wore one of the sexy outfits that her deceased husband bought for her to help him “get it up” in the midnight hours.
She had several of the special numbers and he seemed to enjoy all of them because he stayed hard right up to the time that he had crossed the point of no return was down the finish line spraying her insides with man cream in a way that brought back memories of her volunteer work with the sailors on shore leave with not many single females to keep them company in the town where the Navy Base was located because of a nice deep harbor. She had taken care of them, sometimes, even more than one each night, like a friendly den mother cuddling her charges and smothering them with her big boobs and eager ass ready to be pounded.
Doris liked the nurse’s costume the best because it was all white and easy to keep clean with the bleach that she used with extreme caution. One drop of that stuff would take the color out of any garment but it only made the whites look whiter and there was nothing wrong with that at all.