Older Guy

It was 1982. My girlfriend Lesley was eighteen I was
twenty. We had been going out together for about a
year and a half, were crazily in love with each other
and from both being virgins had graduated to full
sexual activity just around her s*******nth birthday.
She had the kind of body that stopped blokes in their
tracks, slim but shapely legs, round but firm
backside, a tiny waist, 36a breasts that stood up on
their own and nipples that invariably indicated it was
getting colder or betrayed her state of arousal.

In the looks department she had not been shortchanged
either. Her long dark hair framed a sultry gypsyish
face, nose slightly aquiline, small but full lipped
mouth and dark green 'come to bed' eyes.

Some of my mates reckoned she looked like Ruth out of
Pans People but prettier.

In the decade that launched the mini skirt and the
'see through' blouse, she wore both, and combined with
the highest boots or heels drew the eyes of the young
men and set them dribbling. Yet we had no time for
anyone else, but were consumed with an insatiable
passion for each other. It seemed that we were 'at it'
at every opportunity and if we had a moment to
ourselves it had to be used to some sexual purpose.

I would meet her off the bus from work in the evening
and we would drive straight to our nearest park up
place in a quiet lane or the local common where
daylight or dark we would be at it 'like knives'
before breaking off for tea at our respective homes.
Collecting her to meet friends at the pub we would
take up where we left off feeling each other up as we
drove.

Often at her parents, while her mom and dad were in
the kitchen and we were supposedly watching TV she
would get my dick out and suck me off, or sit on my
lap and slip onto me.

How we avoided being caught god knows. We were
experimenting, learning all the time. She had just
gone on the pill. Our generation was remarkably
ignorant about sex and even the sex mags of the time
were very tame.

You could be forgiven for thinking that women were
without nipples, pubic hair or any genitalia at all,
looking at some of them. So everything was gleaned
from hearsay or dirty conversations and developed by
trial and error. Very enjoyable it was too. I remember
hearing some fellow apprentice describing 'licking out
' his girlfriend and being slightly appalled but
sufficiently curious to tell Lesley about it. She
wanted to try it and that summer evening in the lane
behind the colliery, she orgasmed with such intensity,
I thought she was having a fit, soaked me and drenched
the rear seat well of my Ford Anglia.

Lesley worked as a shorthand typist at a local
engineering company in Dudley of the type that
dominated our local landscape at the time. Her job was
typing up quotations and technical specs for the
salesmen and engineers. These were a mixed bunch but
mostly ex drawing office types who had acquired
sufficient experience etc. to put technical
specifications together and usually in their late
thirties or older. Not surprising that in such a male
dominated environment, an attractive young woman had
plenty of attention.

Much of this was of a flirtatious and playful nature
but being the sixties and somewhat less politically
correct, at times it often took on a more suggestive
and titillating tone. Though Les was not the only
woman in the place she was the youngest and the only
unmarried female and was the target of most of the
banter. Needless to say she could hold her own and in
fact enjoyed the teasing and occasional lewd comment
she received from the men, many of whom were old
enough to be her dad.

On a Friday at lunchtime it was the custom of the
sales chaps to go to the local pub for lunch and there
was an unspoken competition between the blokes to give
Les a lift. No doubt hoping to get a closer look at
her long legs or more as she slid in and out of their
car. Sometimes one or other of the women also went to
the pub but more often Lesley was on her own with five
or six chaps. She confessed she enjoyed the way they
fussed over her and of course they always paid for
lunch.

One of the senior salesmen a chap called Frank began
to take a more obvious interest in her. When she had
to do any paperwork for him, he would always keep her
talking, steering the conversation inevitably round to
sex at some juncture or other. He was a man of about
fifty, married with k**s older than us, Les told me,
as we discussed the day's events one evening sitting
in our usual quiet lane.

She laughed as she described how he quizzed her about
her sex life, and asked what she had or hadn't done.
'He gets all hot and bothered when I tell him,' she
grinned. Over the course of the next few weeks Frank
became even more solicitous of her company, sometimes
just passing as she walked to the bus stop from work
and stopping to offer a lift.

The conversation would immediately become sexually
orientated, Frank being complimentary on what she wore
to the office then asking if she wore a bra that day
or 'had he seen right' when she reached to the filing
cabinet 'she was wearing pink knickers? Etc. He would
let her out at the bus stop where I picked her up,
usually with the comment 'If your boyfriend wants a
night off you know where to come.'

This went on for some months and Les and I laughed a
lot about 'what a dirty old sod Frank was'. I would
sometimes suggest she wore a particular skirt or
blouse for work knowing that it amused both of us that
Frank was turned on by her, and waited to hear her
describe his reaction. She climbed out of his car one
evening, and as she slid into the front seat of mine,
began giggling. I pulled away enquiring as to the
cause of her merriment. 'Frank wants me to meet him
for a drink next Friday as his wife and k**s are away
and he has a night on his own.'

'The cheeky bastard,' I responded, 'what did he say
when you told him no?'

'Well I didn't actually say I wouldn't, I was just
getting out of the car, so I said I'd tell him
tomorrow.'

I was nonplussed but said nothing and drove to our
regular spot on the common. In seconds we were in the
back of the Anglia and down to our underwear. In
between tonguing her fanny, I took a breath and
commented, 'He won't just be taking you out for a
drink you know, he'll be wanting some action'.

Pulling my head back to the task in hand, she said, 'I
thought I'd just dress up a bit special a give him a
show, maybe string him along a bit. You know like I've
been doing at work, perhaps let him have a bit of a
snog and a feel at the end of the night. I bet he
don't get much at home and that would probably keep
him going for weeks.'

Climbing up her body I slid my cock into her sopping
cunt and began to fuck her rapidly. She wrapped her
legs round me and we both climaxed pretty quickly.

'Do you really fancy Frank?' I joked, as we began to
get dressed. 'He's not exactly Stevie Winwood is he?'

'Well I don't fancy him in a normal way, but I find
the idea of having sex with an old bloke is for some
reason exciting.' She said slowly, 'You know? Sordid
and a bit dirty. Anyway, I probably won't go.'

We didn't talk about Frank anymore that night, but
after I dropped her off and went home to bed I found
myself re-running our earlier conversation and
considering what to say to Les. To my surprise and
disgust I found myself developing the scenario between
my girlfriend and Frank and jerking off. The more
intimate and extreme the fantasy became the more
stimulating I found it. The next evening she came home
on the bus and I was disappointed. 'No Frank tonight'
I enquired and tried not to be too inquisitive when
she explained 'she just hadn't seen him that day'.

The weekend came and went without us discussing the
'Frank,' situation. Then on Monday, although Les came
home by bus, in the middle of our pre-tea time
engagement and just as I am mid stroke! She asks, 'Do
you think I should go out with Frank on Friday?'

I slowed down my rhythm and trying to sound as if I
had considered and thought it through then said, 'If
you really want to, I won't mind, I know it's just
experimenting. If you want to, I think you should.'

After a few seconds she answered carefully. 'He asked
me again today at lunchtime and I put him off, but
I'll tell him ok. Tomorrow if you're certain you don't
mind.' She paused, 'But I'm telling him, it's only for
a drink and no funny business.'

**

Over the next couple of days the impending date with
Frank was uppermost in both our thoughts and invaded
our every conversation. Although Lesley had made a
great store of having given Frank clear notice of what
was to occur, she was clearly hugely turned on by the
idea of meeting this 'older man' He for his part,
secure in the promise of a date, had eased up on his
pursuit of her and had not given her a lift or engaged
her in too many salacious conversations at work. Maybe
he didn't want to attract too much attention from work
colleagues. 'What should she wear? She asked me, as we
discussed her 'date'.

We decided on a white broderie anglaise tunic dress
that she'd bought from C&A to wear as a blouse but
which on a couple of occasions she had worn as a mini
dress. It was pretty see through' and cinched in with
a belt just covered her knickers. She wondered whether
she should wear a slip with the dress but I persuaded
her it would spoil the effect. Underneath she would
wear a platform bra she had bought from the
classifieds in the News of the World, (there was no
such thing as a Wonderbra in these days), a white G
string which she had made herself and Aristoc
adjustable hold up stockings which I convinced her
were the trigger to any 'old chaps' gun. They were
silky smooth and snugged right up into her crotch just
on the knicker line and just about on the side of
decency.

Thursday evening when I met her off the bus she said
she had arranged to meet Frank at a pub a little out
of his and our area. He didn't want to bump into any
work or family friends and to be honest neither did
Les. So I agreed to deliver her to the pub and she
said he would drop her off at home as it was after
dark. Later on we sat talking about the next evening
and how it would go. I joked how Frank would have a
heart attack when she turned up in her little white
dress and that she would have a job keeping his hands
off her. We were both steamed up by the idea and were
beginning to get down to it. She said, 'I might let
him have a feel of my tits, what do you think?'

I grunted between kisses and slipping several fingers
into her, said that I thought she should. As she
maneuvered to accept my prick, she enquired 'should I
let him fuck me?' Picking up a brutal rhythm I found
myself muttering between fervent kisses 'oh yes let
him fuck you, just do whatever he wants, do anything
he wants you to do, don't refuse him anything. Then I
came in a shuddering climax and lay on her for a few
minutes.

When I recovered I retreated a little from my
unconditional encouragement and said, 'Really I'm OK
with this but you do just whatever you want to do. She
began to speak quietly 'I want him to fuck me, not
like you do, but just do it. You know stick his dick
in my mouth and cum on my face and stuff, not be nice
but use me like a tart, make me do dirty things. I
don't know what I mean really but he says I'm too nice
and I want to show him I can give him whatever he
wants however disgusting.'

My cock hardened as she spoke and I pulled her face
down onto it. 'Show me how you'll suck his dick,' I
ordered, pushing it to the back of her open mouth. She
tongued it top and bottom and pumped her lips up and
down on it until suddenly I began to splatter her
tonsils. 'Let him cum in your mouth, I want you to
swallow his spunk like a prostitute does," whether
they did or not I haven't a clue but that's what I
said. After that we fucked again violently then parted
exhausted. We drove the short distance home almost in
silence neither of us wanting to reopen the
conversation.

We finished early on Friday and I collected Les from
her office. It was probably my imagination as I waited
but the chaps in the cars coming out of the factory
gates all seemed to look enquiringly at me as they
passed. Perhaps Frank had let on he was taking my girl
out? She came down the office steps in her short black
skirt and crisp white blouse. As I pushed open the car
door there were a couple of complimentary whistles
from some factory lads on the other side of the road.

She waved to them and slide into the car. We kissed
hello and I joined the homeward stream of traffic. I
was heading for the usual place when she announced she
wanted to go straight home. 'I've got to get ready,
that's if you're still ok about me going?'

I countered, 'Do you really want to go out with him,
and you know, do all that stuff you said?'

Looking straight ahead, she almost whispered, 'You
said you wanted me to be like a prostitute for him and
yes, the idea gets me hot. It scares me but I want to
do it,' she reached for my cock as I drove down her
road. It was rock hard. 'And it turns you on too,
doesn't it?'

I didn't reply but pulled onto the drive of her
parents' house. 'I'll pick you up 7-30.'

She got out.

As the front door opened I was waiting. God, she
looked good, her pink lipstick matching her heeled
sandals, her dark eyes flashing through the long
lashes and her glossy hair in heavy waves around her
shoulders. The July evening sun shone full on her as
she came to the car, the deeper tone white of her
knickers and bra just discernible under the white
dress. She swung her legs in after she slid into the
front seat.

I glanced down just catching a glimpse of the stocking
welt, where the dress flapped open below the bottom
button. I knew if I asked her not to go, she would
happily just go for a drink with me and forget all
about it. My stomach churned as I turned the car out
of her road and headed for the pub on the Hagley road.
We travelled in silence until we pulled onto the car
park. The place was a steak house and quite busy. I
parked where I could see the cars pulling in, off the
dual carriageway.

Les turned to me. 'Are you sure you're ok with this?'

Her dress gaped open at the top and I could see almost
all of her breast, brown as a bantam egg down to the
darkness of her nipple.

'Because if you're not. I don't have to go through
with it,' she paused, 'but if I do, things won't be
the same again will they?'

My mouth felt like it was full of cloth. I could
hardly speak. 'Whatever you do, I'll always want to be
with you, but I really get off on the idea of you
fucking him. If you hadn't been keen I would have
tried to get you to do it somehow.'
Frank's Rover 3000 pulled onto the car park and parked
up facing the road. 'He's here,' I said.

'I'm going to do anything he wants,' she whispered,
opening the car door. 'But it's you I love, wait for
me at the end of our street.'

We didn't kiss. She got out and I watched her cross
the car park. Frank must have spotted her in the
mirror as she approached, and got out of his car to
greet her. He was taller than I remembered and not as
portly as I had imagined, a big bloke. Lesley looked
tiny alongside him. His large hand momentarily brushed
her behind as he ushered her to the passenger seat and
held the door as she stepped in. In a couple of
minutes they had gone. I was tempted to follow the
departing Rover but thought better of it and resigned
myself to killing time and waiting as instructed.

I didn't want to go home to the inevitable 'where's
Lesley questions' and for the same reason I wanted to
avoid the pubs where our friends hung out. In a bit of
a daze I ended up driving into town buying a 'Wimpy
Burger' which I normally wouldn't cross the road for,
then throwing most of it away. More than usual it
tasted of salty cardboard and my mouth was dry and I
couldn't swallow.

Sitting in the car park I imagined the course of
events. How long would they spend in the pub? Would
she be ok? Frank's first move. To touch her breasts or
explore her legs. In the same moment I was both sick
with jealousy and concern and yet aroused by the idea
that my girl was at that minute probably straddling a
man older than her dad.

At eleven I pulled into the street just off the end of
the road where she lived. The Rover pulled up opposite
just after midnight. Every car that passed in either
direction had set my stomach churning, now I was
electrically charged. Though it was gloomy away from
the street lights I could make out Frank sitting in
the driver's seat but no sign of my girl.

If my heart could have pounded any louder it would
have woken the sleeping estate. A car swept past. The
brief illumination was enough for my 'locked on'
vision to discern the rhythmic up and down movement of
dark shadow above Franks lap. 'Oh God, she's sucking
him off in the street where she lives'. Fascinated I
watched the car. A few moments elapsed then she sat
up, and lay back in the seat. There was an inaudible
exchange of words, and she stepped onto the pavement.
The car door clicked shut and the Rover droned off
into the distance. I flashed my car headlights. She
turned and walked towards the car. She looked ok.

'Let's go down the lane,' she instructed as she closed
the car door.

Without response I turned the car into the main road
and drove the few minutes to the lane. This was one of
our usual haunts and where we were rarely disturbed
after the pony enthusiasts had gone home. 'How was
it?' I ventured as we came to a halt.

'I'll tell you after you fuck me,' she replied,
already climbing into the back of my Anglia. I
followed her, pushing the seats up over the dash for
more leg room. As I undid the buttons of her dress,
she had my jeans unzipped and was pushing them round
my ankles, reaching for my prick. She no longer wore a
bra or knickers and as I caressed her face with my
fingers preparatory to a kiss I was aware that her
hair was wet and sticky no doubt with spunk from that
last minute blow job I had almost witnessed. Our
mouths met as my cock eased into her and Lesley began
to writhe beneath me.

I could smell Frank's sperm on her hair and felt my
tool expanding inside her. Turned on but I suppose
emotionally confused, I climaxed in double quick time,
sobbing between kisses, 'God, I love you.'

She began to come in a series of shuddering
convulsions and then lay still breathing steadily.
'You're sure you want to hear this?' she demanded.

I drew her to me, 'Yes.'

She began describing how they went to some pub on the
back of Clent hills where she judged most of the women
there were with someone they shouldn't be with and how
in less than an hour she'd downed four Cherry B's she
was so nervous.

Frank had dared her to show him her knickers and she
had. Unbuttoning her dress to the waist to open it for
him in the pub. At that point he had said, drink up
and they drove to a car park on top of Clent
somewhere. It was still light. Frank had leaned across
and kissed her at the same time opening her dress at
the front. Les said she slid down in the seat and he
had pushed his hand up between her legs and under her
behind. He was able to lift her bodily and ground the
heel of his palm against her cunt through her
knickers.

'It felt nice,' she said and when he pulled his hand
back he drew down her flimsy homemade G string. Then
he undid the front fastening bra to nuzzle her breasts
as his 'fat fingers' her words, gently probed her
cunt. She reached over to find his dick hard in his
trousers.

At her suggestion they got into the back seat. She
took off her dress and was now completely naked apart
from her shoes and stockings. Kneeling in the well of
the car still in his shirt and trousers, he lifted her
legs over his shoulders and began eat her out,
reaching up to tweak her nipples as he did so.

'It was so good, I found myself pulling his head into
my crotch,' she confessed. 'Then he turned me over and
made me put my bum in the air. He continued to lick my
cunt but started licking around my bumhole and pushing
a finger in. He asked me if I liked it! I said it was
ok. Suddenly he had his tongue in my arse and it felt
great probing in time with the rhythm of his fingers
on my clit.'

Listening to this was bittersweet. My dick was rock
hard but I was jealous.

'I wanted it to carry on,' she said but Frank turned
her onto her back again took off his shirt and pushed
his trousers and pants down and placed the tip of his
cock at the entrance to her fanny. Lying over her he
told her 'If you want it in you put it in.' She said
his penis was about the same size as mine maybe a bit
longer but not as fat. She grasped it and guided it
into her. 'It slid in easy, I was so wet,' she
confessed. 'He fucked like mad as soon as he was fully
in me, and sucked on my nipples and shoved his fingers
up my bum. In a few seconds he was jerking his spunk
into me and I wasn't far off coming either. 'Then he
pushed his tongue into my mouth and asked, 'if I could
taste my own ass?' The dirty bastard. But he kept on
shagging me and I came off.'

While they rested Frank asked about what she had done
with me then got her to suck his floppy cock back to
life. As soon as it was hard he fucked her doggy
fashion a bit slower this time. When she sensed he was
about to come he made her turn round and take it in
her mouth again.

'My missus never does this,' he told her as his come
splattered the back of her throat. Les never really
liked the taste or texture of sperm, but she told me
because he had said that, it made her determined to
swallow it down. Another break and more talking then
Frank wanted to 69. Les got on top and Frank cleaned
out her fanny and gave her brown hole some more
attention, licking her clit till she had another
orgasm, flooding his face with her juices. She turned
round and began to ride his cock.

She had begun to jerk my dick as she relayed the
detail of this evening of debauchery. 'There's one
last bit,' she said carefully. 'While I was riding
him, I thought he won't come again, so I asked him,
what else won't your wife do?' 'She won't rim my
arse,' he replied which apparently is what he'd been
doing to me.'

I gasped, 'What did you say?'

'I asked him if he wanted me to do it for him' said my
prim ***********friend. She had then lain back on the
seat while Frank knelt astride her face. She began by
licking and sucking his cock then travelling down to
his balls. sucking the bit that joins the bollocks to
the anus, which she said immediately made his dick
stiff again. Then as she jerked his cock with one
hand, she applied her mouth to his arse.

As he held the cheeks of his backside open she licked
and probed his anus with her tongue, gently reaming it
open with her fingers. Eventually she could get her
tongue in and could feel the pressure of his ring
piece on her tongue both trapping it and pushing it
out at the same time. Frank could not stand more of
this and turned to point his prick at her face and
shot another load of jism onto her. As she reached
this conclusion I pulled her down onto my cock and
pumped my load into her mouth. She swallowed it
without complaint.

'And that was it,' she concluded. 'But, you were
sucking him off when you turned into the street,' I
said. 'That was something else his wife has never
done, I'd told him I did it for you. And he came
again! all in my hair. Put the light on,' she said. I
switched on the interior light. Her breasts and upper
thighs were covered in dark blue black love bites. 'He
asked me if you knew and when I told him 'yes, he
said, 'Well he'll know now won't he?' and gave me
these.'

'Are we ok?' she asked.

'I think so,' I said 'will you see him again?'

'If he asks me I will,' she replied.

'That's good,' I said.