Copyright © 2006

The year was 1958 and I had just finished my two years National Service. We were meant to get our old jobs back, but my old boss had died leaving me without that privilege. I'd had two deferments and was a bit older than the other lads, but at least I'd finished my apprenticeship, as a joiner. The only thing left was to go into business on my own. I had little money having only been paid twenty-eight shillings a week for most of the past two years.

The other handicap was somewhere to live, being an orphan and brought up in an orphanage, I had no parents to fall back on. At least I still had all my tools and an old Morris Minor van (ex GPO) so I didn't have to go to a bank cap in hand for a loan. A fat chance I had of getting one with no assets except my tools and van.

Luckily I was offered a job to replace an enclosed veranda, which had been condemned by the council. The house was owned and lived in by two elderly sisters who were in their early seventies. On my own I estimated the job would take a month at the least, so I went looking for 'digs' close to the old women's house.

Although the rent for the small single bedroom was small it was going to stretch my budget a good bit. I had to share the bathroom and wasn't allowed to cook any meals in my room, but for a month I could stand that.

The two old women couldn't have been sweeter, plying me with cups of teas and even giving me my lunch. To demolish the structure was the easy part and it wasn't long before I had all the old timber piled up waiting for it to be removed.

It was the third night in my digs that I blew my top. The daughter of the family spent nearly two hours in the bathroom every night. I had to wait until she finished before I could go and shower to remove the dirt which came from demolishing the veranda. That also meant I couldn't go for an evening meal at the pub, for by that time they had stopped serving.

I explained the situation to the mother and father, but they just shrugged their shoulders, so I told them to stuff the room and left, still with four days rent paid. I drove to the Railway station and used the washrooms to shower and get dressed in clean clothes. That night I was able to get a meal but slept in the van's back among my tools. That was quite a feat for a six-foot three male in the vans small interior. To say I was uncomfortable was an understatement.

The two old women knew something was wrong when they saw the state I was in the next morning and offered me one of the rooms in their home. They seemed overly happy that I was going to stay in their home, but I soon forgot about it, happy to have somewhere to sleep and stay.

The old timber was removed and the new arrived on time and I got started. The erection was a lot cleaner than the demolition, so I soon got back into the swing of things once more. Now the two women watched me nearly all day, muttering to themselves and smiling whenever I looked at them. I wasn't on any strict timetable, for it was a fixed cost, so to finish was left to me.

I wasn't used to being fussed over; the orphanage wasn't a place where things were done for you. If you wanted anything done, you did it yourself and if it was one of the tasks laid down and not done quickly enough you knew you would get a clip behind the ear, or worse, the cane. So when two women fussed over me it was alien to my upbringing. The other thing I'd never been with a woman, ever, I was never able to afford to. Firstly on a low apprentice pay where a quarter of my wage had to be set aside to buy tools. Then in the Army where the pay at the end was only thirty-six shillings a week; barely enough to buy your toilet things and a couple packets of fags. So as I said when I was near a woman I felt uncomfortable. I liked these two old women, as the grandmothers I never had.

The evenings in their lounge were spent either listening to the radio or records, which were mostly old, the tunes that they liked. The change came at the end of the second week when a card table was brought out and we started playing Brag. First it was for matches and I held my own against them, and at the end of two hours we were even.

"When we were younger we used to play for articles of clothing, have you ever played strip Brag Hugh?" Cybil asked, she was the oldest by one year.

I must have blushed for she smiled and said, "Appears not Shanna, look how he blushes."

"Shall we try Hugh, it's just for fun and the room is lovely and warm?" Asked Shanna.

Out of bravado I answered in the affirmative.

"Great, now every item counts as one, is that fair Hugh?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"One sock, one stocking for each brag" Cybil replied.

"Right, you might as well deal it was your deal anyway." I answered and waiting on the nine cards to be dealt. In the Army we played this, but used a cribbage board and even then sixty holes were covered in less than that in minutes. Then we were playing three for the first hand, two for the second, one for the third and eight for all three. Now we were only playing one for each group of three.

I couldn't have been happier, for I was dealt three three's the top hand, so I knew I could easily lose the next two hands without losing an item of clothing. I split the rest of cards into two flushes which is really a good back hand and a weak middle hand, where usually you need a run to stand any chance of winning.

As I suspected I lost the second hand and won the other two. It was Shanna who won the second hand so Cybil started peeling off her clothing. She gave me two stockings and Shanna her slipper. When she handed over the stockings they were still warm from her body and smelt of a faint perfume.

Slowly their clothes started piling up on my side of the table. Some men wouldn't get turned on by the sight of naked seventy year old women, but this was the closest I'd been to semi naked women. Both were sitting wearing panties and bras. Granted the panties were waist-high, but they were made of a silky material and not cotton. Both the women's legs were thin, without the plumpness of their younger sisters' one sees in the magazines, but the wide crotches intrigued me. I was sitting at the table with an almighty hard on. I wonder if they knew how big a man I was.

Two games later they were both naked, droopy flat breasts and all. Their skin was like parchment, but at least their stomachs were flat and both had ample bushes of hair covering their crotches.

"Well Hugh you have cleaned us out, we have nothing else to play with," Cybil said but smiling.

"How about pussy, want to play for a bit of pussy Hugh?" Asked Shanna.

It was then I realised that they had planned all of this and since I had made no moves towards them in the last two weeks they chose this method, but could I play to fuck them? They were both old, but they seemed keen enough if they were offering themselves, so what I got to lose, it wasn't as if they were teeny boppers, they were both mature women.