Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Videll Dais / New Story

   THE OPPORTUNIST By Videll Dais

   Sunday morning.  Sandy stood at the kitchen sink wading through a pile
of washing up, a lot of it left over from last night's dinner party. 
Occasionally, she would look out of the window and watch her two youngsters
playing happily in the inflatable pool on the decking and her husband, Ian,
mowing the verdant spread of lawn beyond.  She felt a little sorry for him.
It was a bright, hot day, and there was a lot of lawn still to mow. 
However, she'd made a fresh jug of chilled lemonade and placed it on the
patio table ready for when they needed it.  Behind her, at the kitchen
table, neighbour Ron Randle sat drinking coffee and chatting about everyday
things.  Ron was coming up for sixty, stood around 5' 9 in his socks, was
broad shouldered, athletically lean, muscular, and still a handsome guy for
his age.  He had penetrating blue eyes, thick silver-grey hair and
reasonably wrinkle-free perma-tanned skin from, Sandy guessed, working
outside in all weathers.  He was fit, active, and got on well with most
people in the community.  Though he didn't talk much about it, he was a
widower and lived alone, his wife, Irene, having succumbed to cancer at the
early age of forty-five.  People often said to him the time for grief was
long over and he should find someone else to share his life with but,
somehow, Ron never seemed to get around to dating - which was a shame
because there were plenty of nice women locally who were interested. 
Though the age gap was coming up for something like thirty years, Sandy and
Ian had become good friends with Ron after he had kindly fixed some fencing
for them when they had first moved to the village a year ago.  Now he was
always popping in for a chat or to do odd jobs for them.  Sandy liked the
old timer and didn't mind his visits at all even though, now and then, he'd
turn up at some really inconvenient times.  This morning for instance,
embarrassingly, he'd caught her in her old dressing gown and she'd had to
quickly go change into a denim skirt and T-shirt.  Appearances were
important even if she didn't exactly feel on top form.  She sensed last
night's wine actively buzzing still somewhere in back of her head; not a
hangover, but sort of like a mild, pleasant second drunk.  Ron was good
company, made her laugh a lot, and was excellent with the children who both
loved him to bits.  She thought he was probably a very lonely man.  Her own
mother had died young and she felt the pain of that loss still, so she
could fully sympathise with his situation.  "...  I really miss my Irene,
Sally," Ron was saying.  He didn't often talk about his personal life, but
sometimes he'd reveal little titbits, especially when they were alone. 
"She was a truly a remarkable woman.  Nobody could ever take her place." As
she did her major chore of the morning, elbows steeped in a sink of hot
water, Sandy let her mind wander, not really listening to what Ron was
saying until: "Damn it, Sandy.  I have to say this.  You know, you're a
fine looking woman." "Why, thank you for the compliment, Mr.  Randle,"
Sandy replied, light-heartedly.  Smiling, she waved to her youngest, Tammy,
who was jumping up and down, screaming delightedly in the pool.  Tammy
waved back with both her gangling arms.  Tommy threw a bucket of water at
her and Tammy screeched with mock annoyance at her brother, then gave chase
determined to get him back.  "I mean it," Ron said, his tone serious.  "I
think Ian's a very lucky guy.  You've got the looks, the figure. 
Everything.  Lovely hair.  It reminds me of warm honey." Unused to such
flattery, Sandy felt herself blushing.  "Nice of you to say so," she said.
"I like the way you've tied it back like that, too.  Suits you.  Shows off
your pretty face more.  You really are a beautiful woman." Sandy smiled at
Ron over her shoulder, said half-jokingly, "Are you coming on to me, Ron?"
"I'm sorry," Ron said, is voice breaking slightly, full of pent-up emotion.
"No offence meant.  It's just...  Well, it's been a long time since Irene."
"Hey," Sandy said, flashing the old timer another smile.  "I understand. 
It's okay.  No offence taken." Sandy turned back to the job in hand,
swirling soap suds, piling crockery on the drainer.  The whine of the lawn
mower cut through the morning peace.  Ron cleared his throat.  "Would... 
Would you mind if I just touched your leg for a second, Sandy?" "My leg? 
Why?" "Well, you have such long, shapely legs, such smooth skin," Ron said,
leaning closer to where Sandy was standing.  He reached out and gently
touched the back of her left knee, then brushed his fingers lightly along
the inside of her lower thigh, between her knee and the hem of her skirt.
Sandy giggled, looked over her shoulder.  "Ron!  What are you doing?  That
tickles." Ron continued his caress, his eyes locking with Sandy's. 
"Please, Sandy" he said, almost pleading, his fingers moving slowly,
lingeringly.  "I haven't touched a woman's skin in...in years.  Just for a
minute, that's all.  One minute.  You feel so good." Blushing furiously,
Sandy said nothing and, looking back out the window, continued washing the
dishes.  She wasn't dreaming.  There were the children playing happily, Ian
busily mowing.  Everything normal.  Everything real, except: A man twice
her age was actually making a pass at her.  What's the harm, she thought,
poor old guy's been on his own so long without his wife, without a woman to
love and comfort him.  He must be frustrated as hell, starved of human
contact.  So he wants to touch her leg a minute, so what?  It was no big
deal.  Anyway, Ian hadn't paid her any nice compliments or touched her at
all in weeks.  Not that she blamed him for that.  Poor guy was working too
hard, always too tired lately.  Though she was left needy at times and
would like to make love a little more often than they did, she would never
dream of cheating or doing anything to jeopardise their otherwise perfectly
happy marriage.  Hell, everybody has their shortcomings.  That was life. 
Sandy felt Ron's hand slowly moving on the inside of her thigh, not above
the hem of her short skirt, not too high, but just the same, it felt like a
fire brand on her bare skin.  She leaned her hips into the sink suddenly
aware her heart was pounding in her ample chest.  She glanced down and
almost gasped with shock.  She wore no bra and her nipples were hard stalks
stabbing at the front of her T-shirt.  My God, she thought, one simple,
innocent touch by an old guy and she was getting turned on.  "Lord above,
Sandy.  You feel so soft, so smooth.  Just like a baby." "Thank you, Ron,"
Sandy said, her voice tremulous, "but I think you'd better stop now." "Yes.
Yes, you're right, Sandy.  I'm sorry." Ron removed his hand and sat back.
"That was probably longer than a minute.  Thank you.  I'm sorry I got
carried away.  You didn't mind did you?" "No, it's ok.  Don't worry about
it.  If you want more coffee, Ron, please help yourself." "Thank you,
Sandy. I really appreciate it." "Don't mention it," Sandy said, taking a
couple of deep, calming gulps of air.  Her heart was pounding still and her
nipples remained erect.  Good job Ron was behind her.  She would have been
so embarrassed if he could see them like that, aroused, poking so obviously
at the front of her T-shirt.  She couldn't remember when another man had
intimately touched her in such way; certainly nobody since she had met and
married Ian over a decade ago.  Sandy watched Ian working his way steadily
down to the end of their plot.  It was a long way, an acre or more, with a
small apple orchard and various other fruit trees dotted around; ideal for
the children.  It was what had attracted them so much to the place.  The
morning sun was getting high.  Ian wouldn't stop until he'd finished the
job.  He was like that.  Hated to leave anything unfinished.  Ron
interrupted her thoughts.  "Sandy, can I ask a really big favour of you?"
"What's that?" She asked, her voice slightly distant.  "I'll understand if
you refuse, but I would really appreciate it if you would grant this one
small favour." Sandy frowned, glanced back at Ron over her shoulder.  "What
is it?  You wanna feel my leg again?" "That would be nice," Ron said,
smiling affably, "but this is something else." "Ok, out with it." "Well...
Promise you won't be offended." "I promise.  Now what is this special
favour?" "I think you've got a wonderful rear.  I was wond - " "What?"
Sandy giggled.  "You want to touch my bottom now?  You are joking aren't
you, Ron?" "Actually, I was wondering if you'd let me see it." "You want me
to SHOW you my rear?" "Just a peek, Sandy.  Just a little look.  You have
such a great shape.  You'd really make this old man's day for him, maybe
even his entire year.  I don't mean you no harm, honest.  Just one peek. 
Really, that's all." "I-I..." Sandy was speechless and looked away from her
neighbour, back out the window.  She could feel her cheeks flaming.  For a
long minute there was only the whine of the lawn mower and the kids
screeching with laughter to break the silence.  The atmosphere in the
kitchen was tense, erotically charged.  Both occupants could sense the
shift of emphasis from quiet Sunday laziness to highly charged intimacy. 
Sandy once again felt her heart pick up speed.  What the hell was going on
here?  Eventually, she said, "I don't know about that one, Ron.  I don't
know if I could do that.  I'll have to think about it." "Please, Sandy,"
Ron said, this time actually pleading.  "All I ask is one little look. 
You've got such a perfect bottom, such a great shape.  I just would like so
much to see it.  If you don't say anything, I won't.  No one will know. 
Our secret.  Just you and me.  Please." Without looking around at Ron,
Sandy said, "You promise you won't touch." Ron swallowed.  "I promise."
Without really thinking about it, Sandy reached for a tea towel and began
drying her hands.  "How shall I go about this?  You want me to pull up my
skirt is that it?" "Could you take it off?" "Take it off!" Sandy sounded
incredulous, slightly awed by the suggestion.  "What if...  Ian should come
in?  Or the kids?" "They won't." Ron sounded calm, in control.  "Keep an
eye out the window to make sure.  There'll be time to put it back on or nip
upstairs.  Something.  There will be time." "No touching, right?" "No
touching.  Promise." Slightly giddy, Sandy took a deep breath.  She
couldn't believe she was actually going to do what she was about to do.  My
God, she thought, I'm acting like some cheap stripper in a sleazy men's
club.  Her heart thumped almost painfully against her ribs and blood pulsed
loudly in her ears with a strange whooshing noise.  Staring dreamily out of
the window, her fingers found and fumbled with the button fastening her
skirt.  The button popped and she slowly slid the zip down.  The waistband
of her skirt sagged open.  The only thing holding the garment in place now
was the pressure of her hips and belly pressing against the sink.  She
waited a long moment then, taking another lung full of air, biting on her
bottom lip, eased her hips back and let the skirt drop.  "Oh wow, Sandy!"
Ron muttered.

   * * *

   Oh God.  What had she just done?  It was all so surreal.  Sandy stood
frozen, her eyes fixed out the window looking at nothing in particular: Not
the children playing in the pool.  Nor Ian, her husband, stomping
determinedly back and forth with the lawn mower.  She was unaware of the
bright blue sky, the green of the grass, trees and foliage, the vivid
colours of the flowerbeds.  Every bit of her mind was fully concentrated,
her awareness totally focused, on her situation, on the fact she was
standing in her kitchen wearing only brief panties and T-shirt, half naked,
in front of her neighbour, Ron Randle.  She could practically feel his eyes
on her, and was too scared to move, to look back over her shoulder.  Her
breathing was rapid, her nipples hard and tingling.  She felt incredibly
warm and moist between her thighs.  "You look absolutely stunning, Sandy,
the sexiest woman I've seen in many a long year." Ron spoke quietly,
sincerely.  He was sitting on the bench seat at the pine table ogling the
beauty before him.  Her legs were long and shapely, her full buttocks
nicely rounded, creamy smooth and firm, almost completely bare except for a
narrow strip of pink material that barely maintained her decency.  When did
knickers get so brief?  he thought.  I can see nearly everything.  "Sandy,
could you lean forwards a little, stick your bottom out a bit more for me?"
"Ron, I...  We..." Sandy could hardly speak.  She felt so helpless, shocked
at her compliance, her inexplicable actions.  It was as if Ron was wielding
some kind of magic spell that had entrapped her mind and body, completely
depriving her of any meaningful thought or action of her own.  She found
herself actually enjoying the act of exposing herself to this man who was,
in real terms, all but a stranger to her.  She leaned over and pushed her
shapely bottom towards her neighbour's avid gaze.  Clearing her throat,
swallowing hard, she said, "We'd better...  not take t-too long
over...this, Ron." "Oh, fantastic.  Really fantastic," Ron said, ignoring
Sandy's concerns.  "With a figure like yours, well, you should be a model,
Sandy.  I mean it: You're perfect." "Have you seen enough?" Sandy said,
already bending lower, reaching to retrieve the garment pooled around her
feet.  "No, wait.  Please...Stay bending like that a moment.  It's ok,
Sandy.  Relax.  I only want to look at you.  We have time." Ron admired the
rounded thrust of her buttocks, leaned in closer and extended a hand.  "May
I just touch your bottom for a second, Sandy?  Just for a second?" "I
thought we agreed; No touch...ching." Even as she spoke, Sandy felt Ron's
hand gently caress the left cheek of her exposed buttock.  She made no
attempt to straighten or move away from the touch.  "R-Ron...You...you
promised." "Sorry, Sandy.  You are so beautiful, I can't help myself." Ron
edged closer along the bench, moving his hand in ever widening circles,
slowly caressing the warm, bare, globes of flesh Sandy so boldly presented
to him.  "My God...Your skin is like alabaster.  Ian must surely be the
luckiest guy on the planet.  He must spend hours admiring you.  Does he
make you bend over for him, Sandy?" "Yes - No!  Ron...Please- We must stop
now," Sandy giggled nervously, her voice weak, strained; her knees
trembling somewhat.  She craned her neck enough above the rim of the sink
to see over the window sill.  Through the half-net curtains, out in the
big, bright beautiful world, everything was the same still, everything
was...normal.  "Just a while longer, Sandy.  Please.  There's plenty of
time.  You're really making this old man's heart beat again, believe me.  I
am absolutely enthralled." Ron traced a fingertip delicately down the
length of the panty-covered crease dividing the superb globes of her
buttocks.  Sandy gasped.  "Could you tense your muscles a little for me? 
That's it.  Oh yes.  That is tight.  Let me slap it for you, make it
tingle." Ron suddenly slapped a flat palm stingingly down on her left
cheek. Sandy yelped.  "Ron!  What...?  What do y-you...t-think you're
doing?" "Please - Stay like you are, Sandy.  Stay." "I c-can't.  You
mustn't...  Stop it!  Stop!" "Irene used to love an ass paddle.  She was
like you, had a great ass.  The best." Sandy felt Ron pressing his other
hand in the small of her back and yelped again when he slapped her even
harder.  "Ooh!  Ron...We must stop soon.  We'll get caught.  I don't... 
Ow!" Ron continued to slap each quivering buttock harder, spanking each
firm cheek until the flesh turned rosy pink and welted with the imprint of
his fingers.  He squeezed the plump cheeks one at a time savouring tautness
and texture, then slapped them again.  Left side.  Right side.  Left side.
Right side.  Whacking repeatedly!  Then an extra hard slap - right in the
middle, right on the crack, right where the puckered roseate of her anus
was hidden by the thin strip of her knickers.  Sandy yelped.  "Hold still a
while longer, Sandy," Ron said, his voice low, his breathing heavy.  "My
Irene used to enjoy having her ass tanned.  Sunday morning was our time.  I
used to do her over the kitchen table every Sunday morning.  She loved it.
Warmed her up nicely for the best stuff that followed." Ron's big hand
loudly cracked down on tight flesh again.  "Aagh!" Sandy obediently held
her position, submitted to the spanking without further protest, gripping
the rim of the sink, staring at her family out in the sunny garden through
wide, tear-filled eyes, every now and then whimpering like a lost puppy. 
Her insides were churning, her bottom burned.  How on earth did Ron know
that spanking turned her on?  Was she that obvious?  Her labia tingled,
felt swollen, dilated and moist.  Once, she glanced back at her neighbour
and saw that he had released his penis from his shorts.  It was sticking up
in his lap, long, thick, fat and angry-looking; fully tumescent, fully and
hungrily erect...  for her!  And he was rubbing the thing, masturbating
right here in her kitchen!  Oh God, and SHE was the cause of his
excitement! A little harmless, innocent teasing had suddenly gotten out of
hand - or 'in hand' depending on ones viewpoint.  Sandy gulped, her mouth
suddenly dry, her knees weak and shaky.  Pretend you never saw that, she
thought.  Just pretend it's a weird dream, a figment of her over-stimulated
imagination.  But, God Almighty, how could she forget?  The size of that
thing!  Impossible.  That was - real!  Sandy's experience of the male
genitalia was limited.  She'd assumed Ian's to be the average but, God,
without exaggeration, Ron had to be twice the size of her husband both in
length and girth.  He was big - fucking huge!  Biting her bottom lip again,
she had abruptly turned her gaze away, focusing her attention on the storm
of emotion welling inside her.  Jesus, would he rape her?  Right here, with
her family right outside, just yards away?  Even that thought stoked
certain sensations in her limbs, sensations that were far from unpleasant.
Would he be able to get all that inside her?  Sandy let out a short gasp as
ripples of pleasure traversed her body.  "Sandy," Ron said, huskily,
"Please - open your legs a little wider would you?" "No..." Sandy
hesitantly muttered, then added, "...touching." and promptly did as she was
asked.  She seemed to have forgotten her concerns about Ian, about being
caught, about time.  Time was now standing still, was non-existent. 
"Please...No touching." "Ok, No touching." Ron agreed.  He looked up at
Sandy and saw she was keeping her vigil at the window.  He let is eyes
follow the long curve of her back to the gentle taper of her narrow waist,
the flare of her hips.  Now, with her legs spread, he could see the bulge
of her sex clearly defined beneath the taut swell of her reddened buttocks,
neatly cradled by the thin gusset of her pink knickers.  Her thighs were
trembling.  It was obvious she was as aroused as he was.  "Oh God!" Ron
panted.  "You look so gorgeous, Sandy.  Excuse me for saying so, but my
cock has never been so hard.  Not even with Irene." Breathing heavily, Ron
stood and confidently ran both his big hands sensuously up the curve of her
spine, under her T-shirt almost to her shoulders, then swept them down her
sides, along her ribs, and clasped her soft waist.  Sandy let out a quiet
moan as her whole body momentarily shuddered from head to toe.  Through the
window Ron, too, could now see the family at work and at play.  Poor Ian,
he thought, watching the sweating man some way off towards the apple
orchard, that looks like damned hot work.  "Sandy, did you breastfeed the
children?" "N-Nooo..." Sandy said, breathlessly.  "I-Ian didn't want me to.
Said it...it would spoil their shape." "I'd just like to feel your breasts
for a little bit if that's ok?" As he spoke, he pressed his aching groin
against her warm buttocks and slid his hands around onto her quivering
belly.  His penis lay hot and hard directly along the dividing groove of
her bottom cheeks, trapped there by his belly.  He fingered the dimple of
her navel, then slid both hands up her rib cage.  "Oh Ron...  We must... 
Ooh!" "Oh, Sandy.  Ian was very wise.  Your breasts are magnificent." "Ooh,
no...  Please, Ron.  We must stop..." Sandy's voice wavered, then petered
out altogether in a swift gasp of breath as Ron cupped both her breasts in
his rough hands.  He weighed and fondled them lovingly, plucking at the
erect stubs of her nipples with thumbs and forefingers, teasing them into
even longer, harder points, all the while grinding his penis into the
crease of her bottom.  "Please...  Oh God.  This is w-wrong...  I never
meant f-for things to go this, oh ...  far!" "It's ok, Sandy.  I understand
how you feel.  I know it's wrong, but it feels so right.  Don't you think
so?" Ron breathed into Sandy's ear as he gently squeezed her breasts and
tugged on her excited nipples.  With no bra to hinder him, he had free
play. "Your breasts feel wonderful.  So firm and full; lovely long nipples.
Totally unspoiled even after two kids.  I bet Ian enjoys playing with them.
Does he?" "Ron...  we...we have to s-stop this...  Now!" "Just a few more
minutes, Sandy.  Please.  I only want to feel you.  It's been so long for
me.  You feel so very good.  So good.  Come on now, be truthful.  Does Ian
like to play with your breasts like this?  Does he suck on these lovely
long nipples?  God, they are so hard." "Y-Yes, he does..." Sandy whimpered.
"He-He says they're my best asset." "Oh, you have many assets, Sandy,
many," Ron said, his fingers busily rolling and plucking at the rigid
peaks, weighing and fondling the firm flesh, his loins pressing against the
deliciously arched buttocks, stoking the fires of lust to ever more heady
heights.  His penis felt like a solid rod of hot steel nestling in the
crease of her trembling buttocks.  "Irene and myself used to make love at
every opportunity.  I don't think we ever missed a day - or night.  Tell
me, did you make love last night, Sandy?  Did Ian play with your luscious
breasts like this, suck on these big, hard nipples?  " "Ooh - N-Not last
night." "When then?  When was the last time you let him make love to you?"
"It-It was a couple of weeks ago," Sandy said, half-ashamed to admit what
now seemed a very embarrassing fact.  "A couple of weeks?" Ron sounded
aghast.  "I don't believe it.  My God, how can he neglect you for so long?"
"H-He works hard.  Get's tired.  Then...  Then there's the children and...
and...  We just don't get the chance so often these d-days." "Don't make
excuses, Sandy.  A beautiful woman like you.  Such a fine, firm body, such
a great shape.  Being neglected like that is nothing short of a crime.  You
need and, rightly, deserve all the attention you can get.  By God, if you
were mine..." Ron's voice was no more than a low whisper in her ear.  As he
spoke, he continually fondled her breasts.  "You know what I'd do?" Sandy
had gone completely limp, didn't know how her shaking legs were still
holding her up.  She couldn't answer Ron.  She just slowly nodded her head.
"I'd make love to you long and hard.  Every day.  Make you cum over and
over.  Does Ian make you cum over and over when he makes love to you?"
Again, Sandy shook her head.  "Well," Ron cupped both her breasts and
gently pulled her into his thrusting hips, making sure she could feel his
enormous erection against her bottom.  "That, young lady, is a sin.  Would
you like to cum now, Sandy?  I could do it for you.  I'll only touch you
for a little while.  Would you like that pleasure right now?" Sandy gazed
vacantly out into the garden.  She could feel Ron's hands and fingers
manipulating her tingling nipples and breasts, his fat, turgid maleness
pressing against her bare, fiery bottom.  Her whole weakening body was
awash with electric sensations, her strength of will almost entirely
depleted.  She had never wanted another man in her life, had never cheated
or even given the act of cheating a passing thought until now.  She knew
that if Ron, this old man, her neighbour, wanted to take her now, she would
be helpless to stop him, absolutely helpless.  "Give me an answer Sandy. 
Would you like me to make you cum right this minute, here and now?" Sandy
felt her nipples burning and Ron's enormous organ pressing against her
buttocks and couldn't help pressing herself back onto it.  She let her head
drop between her outstretched arms for a second and let out a long, almost
tortured, sigh.  Then, as though remembering she should be keeping an eye
on events in the garden, she jerked her head back up.  "Do what you want,"
she said, "but please be quick."

   * * *

   Ron gave Sandy's breasts one more gentle squeeze, then sat back down on
the pine bench behind her.  Sandy went to straighten herself up.  "No,
please Sandy.  Just remain as you are.  I'm going to remove your panties,
ok?" "Oh, please...  Hurry.  We're going to get caught.  Please!" "Just
relax little lady.  We've got time.  Keep an eye out that window and leave
the rest to me." Ron placed his hands on her fleshy hips, hooked his
fingers in the thin elastic waistband of her one remaining flimsy
undergarment and quickly tugged the miniscule material down her long legs.
"Raise your left foot.  Now the right.  Good.  Open your legs a bit wider,
Sandy." Sandy bit down on her bottom lip and did as Ron asked.  For a
minute, the whine of the lawnmower, the screeching of the kids, everything
faded into an intense, pregnant silence.  All she was aware of was the
sweat beading her anxious brow and the cool air wafting around her freshly
exposed sex.  He could see everything now, how open and aroused she was,
how wet!  Her labia felt swollen and her clit pulsed.  It was as if her
whole, raw nervous system was concentrated into one tingling, buzzing spot,
as if she were about to explode.  Her belly and abdomen quivered, her
thighs trembled.  She didn't believe she'd ever felt as horny as she did
now.  She was floating over the abyss, a bottomless pit of flame and heat.
Oh God, she thought, what is happening to me?  What am I doing?  Getting
straight down to business, Ron leaned forward, cupped each perfect orb of
Sandy's bottom in his big hands and, digging his thumbs deep into the
dividing crease, squeezed and pulled the cheeks apart exposing the neat
crinkled star of her anus and the puffed, clean folds of her aroused labia.
He could smell her need, feel the heat emanating from the very core of her
womanhood.  He dipped his head and began to circle her crinkled anus with
the tip of his tongue, an action that made Sandy jump.  She tried to clench
her bottom without success.  Ron held her firmly open to his ministrations,
his moist tongue flicking, dipping, probing her sensitive opening, going
deeper each time.  He slid his right hand between her spread thighs palm up
and cupped her sex, gently kneading the baby-soft flesh, his middle finger
parting the rubbery lips, seeking the pink, wet interior.  He was surprised
at the lack of pubic hair.  There wasn't any bar a fine sprinkling on her
plump mound.  Bare pussy.  Ron liked it.  Sandy felt the probing tongue
enter her slackening anus, groaned deep in her throat.  This was a totally
new, dirty experience for her.  Ian had never gone near her anus with
tongue or finger.  Coupled with Ron's index finger slipping back and forth
along and between the lips of her sex, the sensations were exquisite.  She
pushed her bottom back indicating her need to feel more.  Ron forced his
tongue ever deeper into her twitching anus.  He found the erect little nub
of her clit and began to work it in earnest with his fingertip.  Sandy made
a strange meowing sound and her whole body began to quiver.  Ron raised his
head slightly, cheeks florid, spittle running down his chin.  "You like
that young lady?  You like Ronnie licking your ass and playing with your
clit?" "Ye-es!  Oh yes!" "Feels good, huh?" "Mmm." "Come on, push that
asshole out, let me get right to it.  Yeah, like that." Ron fingered
Sandy's clit.  As he did so, he put his left-hand index finger in his
mouth, sucked on it until it was wet, then gently eased it into Sandy's
anus, one knuckle, two, then right in.  He wriggled it around then
proceeded to slowly finger-fuck her, out to the tip, then in again
repeatedly.  Sandy wriggled her hips and buttocks, could barely stand as
Ron played with every electric spot on her aching, quavering body.  This
old man knew his stuff and no mistake.  Nearly sixty years of experience
brought into minute focus on her cunt and ass had her melting.  Christ she
was a quivering wreck already.  She looked through the window and saw her
kids playing, her husband, all red and sweating, his skin glistening in the
sunlight, marching determinedly back and forth behind the lawn mower.  What
on earth would happen if any of them should walk in on her now?  God, the
horror.  It didn't bare thinking about.  So she didn't.  Instead, Sandy
gave herself completely to the hot sensations absorbing her body and
senses. It just got better.  And better.  Ron watched with intense interest
as Sandy surrendered to her feelings and approached her orgasm.  His cock
was rock hard, dribbling pre-cum.  He was desperate to fuck this gorgeous
woman, but didn't want to rush things, didn't want her supreme delight to
come to a premature end.  He would get there soon enough.  He slid two
fingers deep into the warm, wet, ribbed interior of her cunt.  She was
tight.  He liked that.  He moved his fingers rapidly, churning her juices,
stimulating her clit, urging her on to the big moment.  He watched as the
tight, puckered rim of her anus gripped his finger as he eased it out, then
folded around it, embracing it, as it slid back into her clinging passage.
He was working hard now, getting her there ever quicker.  Sandy cried out,
pushed her upper torso away from the sink so her breasts thrust forward. 
The sensation coursing her veins built to excruciating intensity.  It felt,
she imagined, like being fucked by two guys at once.  The fingers in her
cunt and ass were ploughing both her openings with energetic fury.  Her
juices were leaking, dribbling copiously from her.  Her whole body sang
with sensation.  Still diddling her clit, Ron stood, eased his finger from
her anus and immediately replaced it with the fat, helmet of his cock. 
"Just relax now, little lady.  Don't tighten up.  Let it in.  Let 'ole Ron
take you to paradise." "Oh, what...?  No...Not there.  Please, I...Ooh!"
"Never had it in the ass, eh?" Ron chuckled.  "Virgin territory.  I like
that.  You will, too.  Just relax.  Enjoy." He pressed the bulbous,
mushroom-shaped head of his penis against the moist, crinkled indention of
her anus, gradually increasing the pressure until he felt her sphincter
give, then slowly enfold him.  Gasping, he pressed home his advantage.  Ron
groaned.  Sandy gagged, felt dizzy.  She could do absolutely nothing held
as she was in motionless, expectant suspense.  Unseeing and slack-jawed,
she felt her rectum stretching to accommodate the rude intrusion of Ron's
massive organ.  He was firm but gentle, giving her a little at a time,
letting her get used to each fat inch as it slid home.  Sandy was
incoherent.  "Agh!  Ooh no...Oh God!  Oh God!  Yes...n-no!  Oh YES!." She
felt the thick girth of Ron's penis filling her painfully slowly.  She
groaned and moaned as if caught up in the intricate processes of torture or
child-birth, but couldn't stop her hips bucking back into the plundering
monster now almost fully buried in the depths of her churning bowels. 
Everything burned and she felt as though she wanted to scream, laugh, cry,
and take a shit all at once.  Instead, she clenched her teeth, gripped the
edge of the sink, and sucked rapid gulps of air in through flared nostrils.
"That's it little lady.  Take my cock.  Let it in all the way." Finally, as
Ron touched bottom - literally - his heavy balls nestled against her wet,
gaping cunt, and he exhaled a long gasp.  "God...  that feels so good in
there, honey.  So good." He held on to Sandy's quivering hips, studied the
twin, pale, half-moons of her glorious buttocks and his cock sandwiched
tightly deep between them.  For a while he didn't move, just soaked his
throbbing length in the warm, tight grip of her bowels, and savoured the
electric sparks of pleasure rippling to his abdomen and the tops of his
strong thighs.  Then he began to fuck her.  "Agh!  Hurry..." Sandy gasped.
"It hurts...  Do it.  Ooo!  Please hurry." Gripping Sandy's hips, Ron eased
his length out until only the head of his penis was rimmed, then he plunged
back into her soft depths.  He repeated the motion again in rapid
succession.  Then again.  And again.  Sandy yelled meaninglessly, bounced
around on his cock like a limbless rag doll, accepting the reaming of her
ass like a seasoned trouper.  "Mmm...Oh God...  Fuck me!  Oh Yes!  Oh Yes!"
Down at the end of the garden, Ian suddenly stopped mowing.  He pulled a
handkerchief from the back pocket of his shorts and mopped his flushed
face. He shielded his eyes from the sun, turned towards the house and waved
- just as Sandy was coming her cream.  Oh God, he's looking right at me,
her thoughts screamed, as Ron pounded into her quivering ass and her guts
spasmed.  Helpless as a baby throwing up, she smiled stupidly and returned
the wave as best she could.  "Oh Christ!" Sandy struggled in vain to free
herself from the fat spike rampantly pronging her ass.  "Ron!  Oh, hurry
Ron!  He can see us.  He knows.  HURRY!" "There baby...  It's coming.  It's
coming.  Fucking it up your tight little ass...Aah...  Right...NOW!" Ron
plunged his cock home, impaling a wriggling Sandy to the hilt.  He reached
a hand around to her belly, held her tightly to him and, slipping his long
fingers to her mound, vigorously diddled her clit.  As she came for the
second or third time, he felt her squirming muscles grip the length of his
cock and his balls tightened.  A moment later, he pumped out wad after wad
of cum in thick, hot spurts.  "Ooh...Ooh...  Aw, Jesus!" The kitchen clock
ticked loudly in the ensuing silence.  When Sandy had hastily replaced her
clothing, she nervously patted her hair and wiped perspiration from her
flushed face with a hand towel.  Her mind raced.  My God, what had they
done?  Old Ron Randle had actually fucked her!  In the ass!  She was in
shock, couldn't stop shaking, and when she glanced at the clock was amazed
to see that their illicit tryst had barely lasted fifteen minutes.  Fifteen
minutes from beginning to end, she thought.  She was amazed.  God, what you
can achieve in fifteen short minutes if you're prepared to take the risks!
What sins can be committed!  It felt more like fifteen hours.  She ached.
She had to put it from her mind now.  Forget it.  It was a mistake.  It had
never happened.  God, Ian would kill her if he found out.  She would lose
her family, her home, everything!  "If you..." Sandy took a breath, tried
to compose herself.  "If you want more coffee, Ron, please help yourself."
"Why, don't mind if I do, Sandy.  Thank you." There was another long
silence.  Sandy leaned over the sink, gazed wistfully out on the garden. 
"Ron," she said, haltingly.  "We...  We can never repeat what just
happened. Never, understand?" Ron remained quiet for a while, then: "Yep,
It's been a heck of a long time," he said, whimsically, relaxed now, casual
and calm.  He put his elbows on the pine table cradling a fresh cup of
coffee in his big hands.  "But I miss my Irene more than ever.  Is it ok if
I drop by tomorrow, Sandy?  We'll be more relaxed with Ian at work and the
kids in school.  It'll be one hundred percent better.  I guarantee."
Blushing, Sandy finished rinsing the last dish and setting it carefully on
the drainer with the rest, replied, "I'll be home about nine-twenty.  After
the school run."

   Finito







   .



   1