Chapter 5

The morning after Dimitra left, Hilda and I were in bed having a good time. My cock was deep in her, she was grinning and her hands were on the small of my back as I banged her tight old body.

After all the kinky stuff and anal penetration, this must sound pretty boring to you, but I was really enjoying myself. I was hard, strong, and happy as we had regular sex.

The fact that she was 42 years older than I was didn’t seem weird at all anymore.

I held off as she came, and went back to fucking the skinny old woman until she came again.

“You didn’t come?” she asked.

“No.”

“What a good boy! Shall we change positions?”

“To be honest, I like it this way best.” I told her, holding my stiff cock inside her tight old body.

I began to ream her again, when we heard the truck pull into the yard.

Claus and Margaret were back.

Hilda pushed me off, and I washed off my rod in cold water so I could get my clothes on quickly. The cold water on my hot erection made me shiver, it was a bit cruel.

After lunch, Hilda and Claus had a big fight; it was all in German so we didn’t understand much, but she was gesturing at Margaret and seemed to be upset about her fucking the old guy so he’d donate the medical supplies for Ukraine.

I went outside with Margaret and we walked around the yard.

“I’m still high from it, Don; it’s just a small part of what they need, but Claus and I really did something good for people who really needed it. I don’t regret anything, that Dieter guy was nice. I mean, yeah, he’s 80 years old but age is just a number, right?”

“And where was Claus?”

“He was watching! That was SO hot, he just sat there and watched!”

“So um, did you come?” I asked.

She shrugged, a non-committal response.

“We’re supposed to pick up another load at his distribution center in the south tomorrow.” Margaret said. “I think Dieter will meet us there.”

“And you’ll have sex with him again?”

“Yeah, if he wants to!” she said enthusiastically. “He’ll give us the supplies either way you know, it’s mostly material that will be out of date in a few months anyway.”

He probably could write it all off, I thought cynically. He couldn’t send stuff out to hospitals and pharmacies so close to its expiry date, so he was making a profit from the donations. I suppose the people in need of it didn’t care about that, so why should I?

“It’s like everything is allowed, you know? Because no one at home can find out, no one will judge me. While I’m here, I want to do everything.”

Hilda came out and said I should go with Margaret to collect the donation so she could have some time alone with Claus.

We were on the road within the hour, Margaret’s big tits bouncing with the big vehicle as we climbed up onto the autobahn.

There was a frame on the dashboard to hold a tablet, Margaret set hers on there and used it to navigate. A skype call came through from her mom.

“You must be Donny.” She said, “You know I wondered why Margaret would travel all the way to Europe and then hook up with an American, but now I understand!”

We all chatted for a while, then she disconnected.

“You told your mother we’re together?” I asked.

“Yeah, I hope that’s ok. I don’t want to tell her I’m doing it with a guy old enough to be her dad.”

After some time, at the instruction of the sat-nav, we exited the highway and drove another 20 minutes to an industrial area near a small town where the distribution warehouse was located. It was a big place with docks for 4 trucks, but it was Friday afternoon and there was hardly anyone there.

I opened the rear doors and Margaret backed up to one of the loading docks.

The place was almost deserted; we found a guy in a little office off the loading dock, who was about to leave. It was the security office and there was a bank of cctv monitors, and on one of them I saw an old bald man was approaching.

“Oh, that’s Dieter!” Margaret said with a big smile on her face.

He was almost a head shorter than she was. I watched in surprise as she clamped his old head in her hands and kissed him passionately while he hugged her tightly. Her fingers stroked his spotty skin, her big breasts squeezing out between their bodies.

They broke apart and looked at each other for a second. Dieter said something in German to me, gesturing at a group of pallets, and pulled Margaret along by her hand as he went through another door. Margaret threw a grin at me.

“Get the truck loaded!” she laughed as they left the loading area.

I wondered; did Margaret deserve an Oscar for that performance, or did she really like that guy? Before my emotional experiences with 60 year old Hilda and transsexual Dimitra, I wouldn’t have believed it.

The six pallets were stacked 5’ high, wrapped in plastic, and each had a document stuck on the side.

The space was huge; high racks stacked with boxes, a few forklifts, windows in a high wall so the loading area could be overseen from the offices. I looked around for someone to help me, I found a brown woman leaving with a briefcase.

“Do you speak English?” I asked her lamely, “Is there someone who can help me load?”

“Oh, you must be the American.” She said in a strange accent, a mix between something Asian and German. “I can’t get anything done here, the computers are down. Everyone else has gone home, I’ll load for you. I’m Fatima.”

She was wearing a sharp office sort of outfit, a colorful blouse that stretched over her rather sexy curves, a heavy knee length skirt belted around her hips, and 3 inch heeled boots up her calves.

She wasn’t wearing a mask. Her face was somewhat angular, with a large mouth and a prominent nose. She looked 40ish.

She smiled reassuringly at me through straight teeth, and I followed her back to the loading dock.

She had a great gleaming bun of black hair pinned to the back of her head, and a nice ass.

Yeah, we did. Read on.

Fatima climbed onto a small electric forklift and lifted the first pallet, driving right into our old truck to set it against the back wall.

“Do you want to try?” she asked me, and then gave me a quick lesson in forklift operation while I nervously loaded the other pallets.

“Thanks for that.” I said afterwards. She had me park it next to the other forklifts and plug in the charger.

“Let’s see if the computer is back up so I can issue the waybill.” She said, “You can’t leave without it.”

We went into the security office. The computer wasn’t working; she made a call to someone who was supposedly working on it somewhere.

“Sorry, this will have to wait until Monday.” She said, “It looks like the system has been hacked, I’ve been on my feet all day, these shoes are killing me, I need to get home.”

“We have to get this stuff to the depot in Hungary.” I said, “Can’t you wait a little longer?”

She looked at me doubtfully. She was rather attractive; it was her mouth. The curl of her lips.

“I could massage your feet while we wait.” I offered.

She looked surprised, then laughed dismissively.

“I’ve had training in massage.” I added stupidly.

“Where did your girlfriend and Dieter go?” she asked rhetorically, looking at the bank of monitors. “Oh, there they are, Oh my god!”

I looked over her shoulder. One of the quarter screen images was Margaret on a desk with her knees up, and Dieter’s bald head was visible between her thighs. Her fingers were around his skull and her grin was so wide we could see it clearly on the small image.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” I explained.

She turned away from the screens looking flustered. “I thought she was just a driver, I didn’t realize she...”

“Margaret has been driving for days.” I said in her defense, “She deserves a little pleasure, don’t you think?”

Fatima turned to face the relevant screen again, pressing a button to change the image to full screen. She looked horrified and fascinated at the same time. “She does seem to be enjoying herself.” she allowed. “Do you think she really likes it with the old man?”

“I don’t know, but she likes what he’s doing right now.”

She looked out into the empty loading area, then at me. “Ok.” She said, “Just the feet though.”

I followed her through a cluttered dining area into another office that had a sofa on one wall and some chairs. She sat on an upholstered chair, and activated the monitor on the desk so we’d know when the system was up again. I sat at her feet and unlaced her boots.

I felt weird, out of place. I was out of place of course. In a foreign country, a random town, an empty warehouse flirting with an exotic woman I’d just met. It was more like a dream than my real life.

I looked up into her eyes; deep dark almond eyes. I tore my gaze away again, I didn’t want to be too forward. I didn’t want her to know that I was horny as hell and I thought she was totally hot.

Her feet were small in my hands, soft with high arches. I took one and proceeded to rub it like Hilda had taught me, even though Fatima was wearing nylon stockings.

Fatima made small sounds of appreciation as I worked.

“I normally use oil.” I said, as if I’d done this more than twice before.

I looked up into her face again, locking eyes for a few seconds before she looked away. That was when I realized I might have a chance with her; I didn’t really believe it yet.

We were supposed to drive back to Claus and Hilda’s. It was already six, and the drive was 4 hours in the slow truck. I put it all to the back of my mind, and concentrated on the small brown foot in my hand.

“It would be better if you took your nylons off.” I said.

She glanced at the computer screen, which hadn’t changed. “Yes, ok.” She agreed. “There’s some olive oil in the lunch room.”

When I came back, she’d moved to the sofa and I saw the nylons on an empty chair. I put some oil on my hands and got to work.

“That feels very good. Where are you from?” she asked, and we made some small talk as my oiled hands slid slightly higher, up her calves.

I still didn’t believe she would want more, so I wasn’t too nervous.

She was Malaysian, an executive for a pharmaceutical manufacturer that was merged with the German firm, she’d been transferred to the head office in Munich, and was out here at the distribution center to facilitate the Ukraine donation. Her hands were fine with manicured red nails, and a wedding ring. She made no mention of her marital status, and I didn’t ask.

“No change?” I asked after she took another look at the monitor.

“Look for yourself.” She said, turning it so I could.

It was the camera feed from the office where her boss and Margaret were. They were both naked now, his body was loose and flabby, they were kissing and petting. I don’t think they were fucking at that moment but I wasn’t sure.

“It’s like watching a train wreck.” Fatima said, “I don’t want to see it but I can’t look away.”

“Age gap sex is like the final taboo.” I said, running my thumbs under her right knee. “Why do you think that is?”

In response, she sat forward, pulled my mask off of my face, and took my chin in her hand, kissing me deeply.

Every alarm in my brain went off; she was beautiful and smart, and her tongue was in my mouth.

She sat back again and I looked into her deep dark eyes as my fingers traced up her thighs.

Her eyes widened in shock as she saw my face without the mask for the first time.

“Oh my god! How old are you?” she demanded, clamping her knees closed and pulling away.

“Eighteen.” I told her earnestly.

“I didn’t realize I was being seduced by a teenager!” she exclaimed, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Well, I ... I’ve had some training.” I said lamely, before realizing I’d already used that line.

She just stared at me with wide eyes for a few long seconds, My hands still on her legs.

“You’re one of Hilda’s boys, aren’t you?” she demanded, “Did she tell you to do this?”

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” I said defensively.

She looked at the monitor, where Margaret was sitting on the old man’s lap undulating vigorously. Then she lay back in defeat. “Oh fuck it!” she said, “Go on, do your thing.”