("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Old Fart's Second Chance - 1 by LaPetiteMort (highwater08@comcast.net) *** An older man befriends a young mother and her daughter to the great pleasure of them all. (MFg, ped, 1st, rom) *** This is such an unlikely story about a mature man, a young mother and her daughter. I want to tell you all the long details how it all began. Then maybe, you will realize the story is true as the chapters get hot and strange. Today my life has moved on; all is in the distant past now. I often reminisce how love and sex roared back into my life after I had given up on both. For most of the work days during the last year I had watched her come into MickyD's about nine a.m. She reminded me of my wife thirty years ago – blond, five- six, 135 pounds, very feminine, blue eyes, clear skin and shy. Usually she bought something off the dollar menu to go with the coffee she brought from home. She would sit a few minutes browsing through the courtesy newspapers. Often she would take a section with her when she left. We would nod to each other and smile, then go our separate ways. Today, something was wrong. She was agitated; her eyes were teary; she only ate half of her sausage biscuit. I waited for her by the trashcans. "You look so sad today. Are you alright?" She wished I had not spoken but struggled out a few words, "Oh, I'm fine, but thanks for asking." "We see each other every day, have never met and have never talked. I'm Sam Cole." I gave her my best smile and extended my hand. "Nice to meet you Sam. I'm Jenny Jackson. I have to get going or I'll be late for work." "Nice to me you too Jenny. Sorry you have to rush off." She hurried past me, still very preoccupied. Over the next few weeks, we worked up from a few words to sitting and talking for half an hour. Jenny was 32, divorced from an abusive husband and had an eleven-year old daughter, Millie, who was starting to cause trouble. Jenny worked as a waitress at a nearby steak house and was trying to take college courses toward a nursing degree. Gradually, a very unlikely friendship grew between me, a sixty-plus lonely widower and this overworked, stressed beauty. One Tuesday night, she agreed to let me fix dinner at my house for her and her daughter. Seems young Millie was always complaining about having to cook and fend for herself. "Sam your house is so big and nice. Don't you get lost in it all by yourself and get tired of taking care of so many rooms?" Millie was wandering around as her mom and I got the food onto the table. "I have help. Besides it has been home for many years. I would probably be lost anywhere else and feel cramped in a smaller place." "It's really pretty, isn't it Millie?" "He has a pool that is indoors and goes out outside, a dog and a cat." "Two cats, Millie, and some fish in the pond out back. I'll give you the outside nickel tour when you come over during the daytime." Dinner was pleasant. Millie was very courteous, bright and curious. Not what I expected from Jenny's stories of being called to the school to discuss bad attitude, foul language, not doing assignments and being caught making out with a boy on the school bus. I liked the lanky, fifth grader instantly. My kids were grown and moved away. The grand kids hardly knew me. Millie relished in having a male around. I was not the responsible mother figure or the judging female competition. Jenny really enjoyed being catered to and the non-work related adult conversation. The night went so well, Tuesday night dinner at my house became a regular date for a couple of months. Then one spring Saturday afternoon, I had heated the pool and we had a pool party so Millie could learn to swim. For Jenny it was still too cold for swimming, but Millie loved the water, horsing around with me, learning to float, kick and do the crawl stroke. While Jenny dozed on a chase lounge in the sun, Millie became more and more bold wrapping her legs around my waist and copping a feel once or twice. "Quit your teasing, Millie. You need a young boyfriend to turn on. Not me." Her eyes twinkled and a new coy, almost adult, look spread across her face. "Am I turning you on?" I decided to scare her a little, so with her wrapped around me, I swung around and slammed her back into the side of the pool, thrusting my half hard cock against her covered pussy. "Yes, and you should quit. I'm a man. I may be old but I'm not dead. You seem to naturally know how to use that hot young body of yours." Millie's eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in surprise. She unlocked her legs and slid down off me. "You did very well for your first swimming lesson. Let's see you practice some more." In early May, Jenny asked if Millie, for the next four weeks, could hang out with me at my house for the three hours between school letting out and her getting home from work. Millie was once again getting into trouble in those three hours. Of course, I said yes. This exposed Millie to my routine, my work and all that was in my house. About a week after she started coming over, I was behind on my writing and was typing away in my office when she knocked on the closed door. "May I come in?" "Just a minute." I went out of the office to meet her. "Millie, you can go into my office, but first I want to talk with you. I collect a lot of unusual art and I write fiction stories. Some are sci-fi, some are mysteries, but many are erotic and fetish stories. I will answer any questions you may have about what you see in my office. However, our conversations must be between us. Many people would not understand my interests." Her answer was weak and girlish, "I won't tell anyone." I opened the door for her. The large masculine office was filled with framed prints and originals from Sorayama, Olivia, Cleavenger, Luis Royo, Huerta, Mobius, Gray, Diez, Dutkiewicz, Koufay, Sugar and others. I went back to typing while Millie roamed the room and got exposed to a hundred new ideas. It was about time for Jenny to pick Millie up, so I pulled her into the kitchen. "Millie, think about what you have seen. Remember, I'll answer any of your questions each day you are here, as long as you accept my answers without judgment and decide for yourself what is right for you." She did not speak but the wheels were spinning almost out of control. Her breathing was irregular. I could feel the heat from her body. Her scent was female. I had never had a sexual desire for a child. I really didn't have one now. Millie was not acting like a child. A tired Jenny retrieved Millie and they disappeared into the evening. The next day, I could tell Millie was bubbling over with questions, so I set in an easy chair in the office, read and waited. "The girls that are tied up seem to like it." "When you fantasize, there are some ideas that turn you on sexually. That is true for everyone. But not everyone is turned on by the same thoughts. Some people like the idea of being dressed in rubber, wearing tight clothes, showing off their bodies, being frightened, being tied up or a million other things." "Even pain?" "You will learn that pleasure can be so intense that it is almost painful. And, yes, some people like to be spanked, restricted, and even tortured a little. In the right situation, with the right partner, almost anything can be good – playing with food, being dominate, being submissive. Rape is a horrible thing, yet, some people like to imagine being forced." "They don't teach that in sex ed." "No, and that is why so many people think they are freaks, abnormal and the only one who wants to be massaged with warm oil with a dozen hands or have their toes sucked or pretend they are an infant and suckle from the breast of a nursing mother. Some things will sound silly to you. But some things you like will sound silly to someone else. Still, when you find the right partner, and you trust each other, you will want to cater to his wishes and he will want to please you by catering to yours." "Are you turned on by any fetishes?" "That is a very personal question and I would have to trust you a lot to open up that much to you. The best way for me to trust you is for you to tell me what turns you on." Millie ignored my challenge. "Does everyone do things like in these pictures?" "Definitely not. Sex is the greatest plaything that adults have, but it invokes very powerful feelings. Some people cannot handle those feelings and are too afraid to admit what they like. So they don't share openly, play or ever risk getting that close to another person. For them, it is easier to be alone or accept average or poor sex." "I asked mom why she didn't date you and have sex with you. You are the only man she ever sees outside work. She said that you are too old to have an interest in such things." "She did, did she? That little girl has a lot to learn." Her playful eyes glistened, "Are you going to teach her?" "Did we hit upon one of Millie's fetishes?" "What do you mean?" "Do you want to be taught, pleased and directed by a more experienced lover? Do you want to experience all that your body can give you? Do you want to see your mother forced to scream because her pleasure is so great?" "How would I know? I'm a kid." "You are old enough and interested enough to ask. Don't play, "I'm a kid" with me. Has all this talk and all these pictures had an effect on you. Is you pussy wet?" Millie was shocked by what I had asked her and the word "pussy." "Well, Millie, are you going to answer me? Or are you afraid of letting me know that much about you?" "Yes, I'm wet." "Tell me, what is wet?" She hesitated, "My pussy is wet." "Do you play with it often?" She was getting used to being shocked. After a pause, "Yes." "Tell me how you do it." "I ---- I can't." "That is alright, if you don't want to tell me. You are my equal in this conversation." "No, I want to tell you. I like what I feel when we talk. If I tell you, will you tell me how you do it?" "Do what?" "Play with yourself." "Masturbate, jack off?" "Yes." "Use the words. Words are not dirty, evil or wrong. Sometimes you have to use words cautiously based on circumstances. You wouldn't say "pussy or cock" in anatomy class." Millie giggled at my example. "That would scare the hell out of my teachers." "Yes, it would. Many are frustrated and uptight because they cannot be open with their partners." "Mom should get laid." "Why do you say that?" "She is worried and unhappy a lot, about money and everything. Maybe some sex would make her lighten up." "You are very wise for and eleven year-old." "Twelve next week." "I didn't know. We'll have to have a party and you will have to give me some hints about what you want for a present." We both heard Jenny drive into the driveway. "Let's send you on your way. And, yes, I would." "Would what?" "I would tell you how I jack-off, if you told me first how you masturbate." Millie's face was bright red when I opened the door for her mother. Each day Millie opened up more and more. She had endless questions and we had long discussions. Some were quite kinky. There were questions about pee play and fisting. They showed that she had been on the Internet and knew a lot more than she had originally let on. We talked a lot about her having the right to always decide her own limits. She was positive that oral sex, anal sex, sex during periods and water sports were things she would never do. "Millie, usually, people get so turned on to each other that sometimes things like that happen. Maybe only once and you decide "never again" or you discover it was ok, something you would do for your partner or something you even enjoyed. In any case, you get to decide for yourself." Jenny and I had an all day party for Millie on Friday, Jenny's new day off. Millie played hooky, we went shopping, ate out, went to an afternoon movie and had cake and ice cream at my house after I served her favorite meal of lasagna, made to Jenny's specifications. About nine we were all settled in the den. "Millie how was your twelfth birthday? Did you have fun?" "Yes, but….." "Oh, the infamous "But." Dare we ask, "But What?"" "I wish you and mom could spend some time together and get to know each other like we do." "I would like that, but that would be up to you mom. Remember she thinks I'm a worn out old man." We were talking about Jenny as if she were not there. "Your mom works very hard and goes to school. She is tired. She wouldn't have enough energy left to spend time with an energetic man like me." Jenny did not take the bait that night. I sent them home smiling with lots of extra food, presents and full stomachs. School got out for the summer on a Friday. I did not expect to see either Millie or Jenny but the doorbell rang about noon. There was Jenny. "What a pleasant surprise. Come in, I'll make another pot of coffee." "I had rather have a glass of wine and see your office." "Your daughter cannot keep a secret. Now the world will now know I'm a sexual being." "She just told me that you have a good reason to keep your office's door closed and that I should sneak a peek." "Go ahead but you should have a couple of glasses of wine first." I stayed in the kitchen while Jenny explored. She was gone for about thirty minutes. Her face was flushed when she returned. I did not stand but I pushed a chair out for her. She sat down. I refilled her glass. She downed it and held her glass out and started. "That is quite a room. Especially for a twelve year old to see." "Your twelve year old is way ahead of that room. With the internet, TV and movies they learn quickly these days." "I suppose so." I remained quiet. Waiting. "Some of those pictures are very arousing and disturbing." I stood, pulled her up with her wine in hand and guided her back to the office. "Show me which ones you find arousing." Jenny started to object. "Don't look at me and get embarrassed. Look at the pictures and point out the ones you like and tell me why. Just like at the art gallery." At first she rambled but soon a pattern emerged. She liked the female submissive pictures. She kept returning to one Sorayama that depicted multiple penetrations of a helpless nude woman by a many tentacled alien. I maneuvered her directly in front of the very graphic print, took her wine from her, wrapped my arms around her waist and spoke softly into her right ear so my warm breath tickled and my lips could nibble between words. "Look at her eyes. She has been taken. Her thoughts are only of being pleased to the point of madness. Her body has surrendered to being filled, stretched, teased and hurt just a little. She knows she will cum soon. And then cum some more. Cum until she cannot stop, cannot breathe and until her orgasms are all that matter in the world." Jenny's eyes were almost closed. She was under the spell of the picture and allowing my voice to lead her fantasy. Her head was back on my shoulder and her hips involuntarily ground her ass into the growing bulge under my fly. I moved my hands up from her waist and began to roll each nipple between my fingers while I sucked her ears and neck. "Imagine that is you. Would you want to be exposed for your lover? Would your body be wet and invite him to penetrate you? Could you imagine your body opening and bending over? Would you offer yourself to fulfill his desires?" She turned slightly, leaned forward and put her hands on the arm of a leather recliner. I bit her neck lightly while my hands roamed down to the button on her slacks, opened it and ever so slowly unzipped them. There was no resistance. With a hand on each side I slipped them and her panties down her legs. She stepped free with her right foot leaving everything else bundled around her left ankle. Her naked ass pushed back challenging me. Her back arched, her hips rolled, presenting her cunt to me like the cavewomen did to their men a million years ago. Her breathing was rapid, noisy and irregular. Her eyes were locked on the helpless, glassy-eyed girl with two tentacles in her pussy, one down her throat, two wrapped around her legs and one buried deep into her ass. As I stripped I could see Jenny was wet. No, she was soaked. Her thighs glistened. When I rubbed my cock between her legs and lined it up with her red, swollen slit, my belly and cock were already shiny with her juices. The head of my dick spread her lips easily but then the tightness of her long unused sheath resisted and provided exquisite torture to us both as I pushed again and again only gaining half an inch each time. I thought I might loose control and shoot everything into her, leaving her unsatisfied, but then my stomach slapped noisily into her ass. The sound flooded my thoughts with memories of the hot heavy demanding nights when my wife's body almost killed me. That distraction drove my body on, to slap and slap again Jenny's wonderful ass. Her eyes were unblinking, fixed on the picture but her whimpers of pleasure gave her away. Her cunt clamped down and even more wetness forced its way out around my cock, onto my balls and trickled down my legs. She made inhuman pleading sounds but showed no sign of stopping. In fact, she was fucking back harder than I was thrusting. She rolled her hips to make sure her g-spot was pressed and she stole her right hand down to her clit and frigged it fast, four maybe five strokes for my one. Now, she was growling like a cat. Her belly's muscles clamped; her thighs trembled and I thought she would pull her clit off. She came again. The pressure built inside her but my rock hard cock refused to bend or allow her to push me out. Instead, she squirted onto my legs with a hissing sound. Jenny started to relax. I grabbed her hair and pulled with my left hand and closed my right tightly on the back of her neck forcing her to stay bent over and accept my assault. "I am not finished with you. You will have to take the pain. I'm going to fuck you hard and fill your belly. You will feel every pulse. Let you cunt feed on my cum. Make her suck my balls dry." She liked the dirty words. She went wild. I had to hold even tighter to stay inside her. Her hair was a great handle. The harder I pulled, the more she struggled urging me to pull more. I slapped her ass as hard as I could with my right hand. She screamed, "Yes, again." So I did. Over and over. Her white ass cheek was glowing red. "Fuck me, spank me, pull my hair!!!" I trust into her as hard as I could. Her entire body jolted. Her arms gave way and she collapsed over the arm of the overstuffed chair. Now her body had to absorb my full force and I gave her all I had. Each thrust was met with a well timed, emphatic, breathless, "Yes," seeming to beg for more. Somewhere along the way I screamed, "Now" and she contracted almost pulling the skin off my battering uncircumcised cock. My belly cramped when my balls drew up. As each contraction rippled trough my body, my stomach clinched tighter and tighter. My blood, my mind and my soul were flowing out of my cock into her womb. I had a good fifty pounds on her but she did not complain when all my weight collapsed on her back. I was beyond caring. I could not catch my breath and sweat was running into my eyes. My cock was still hard and trying to pump what it no longer had. Minutes passed. I was beginning to think again but I wanted that cunt around my cock forever. Finally my dick softened and slipped out with a running stream. I was sad and hoped Jenny would give me a chance to make love to her softly, sweetly and orally. Oral is my fetish. I was too tired to move but I longed to taste her. Jenny remained still when finally I stood and moved to look at her face. It was no longer contorted in the pain of orgasm. She was smiling, asleep. With the strength of my youth, I picked her up, carried her two doors down and placed her on my king-sized bed. I just pulled the comforter over us and slept with her in my arms. About dawn Jenny awoke and tried to wiggle away. I pulled her warm body back and her hip crushed into my morning wood. "I have to get home. Millie is alone. I didn't even call her." "She knows where you are and what we did. Relax. We'll call her in a little while and have her come over for breakfast." That little bit of encouragement was all it took. Jenny rolled on top of me. My cock was almost in the right place. She asked, "What is for breakfast?" "I will cook you anything you want. But first you have to earn it." There was no hesitation, she took hold of my cock and guided it into her body in one long, slippery movement. Her weight drove the head of my dick against her cervix. She recoiled, adjusted and set up a smooth rocking movement, thrusting and pulling back. "I want be able to take much of that." "Then how about this way?" She put her hands on my chest, leaned forward and began to massage her clit with the top of my cock with short grinding strokes. "That's better." "No, it's not. I won't last very long doing that." "That's ok, you can do it again and again. Use me to make yourself cum. I want to watch your lovely face and feel your cunt suck me off." A morning piss hard is a strange thing. Sex is great but the need to finish is not there. I remember my wife in her thirties climbing on even without my permission in the mornings. Often she would be so wet from the night before that I would have trouble getting off. Diligently, still panting from her climaxes, she would use her hands and mouth, making me cum until I pleaded for mercy. Today, with a new partner, I had no trouble adding to the puddle of semen I had deposited in Jenny's belly the night before. Jenny called Millie about nine. She looked shocked when she hung up the telephone. "You are blushing. What did Millie say to you?" "She asked me how many times I came?" "Did you tell her?" "No." "That was mean. She probably wanted to get off before she came over for breakfast." "She doesn't do that. She is still too young. She doesn't even have periods yet." "Don't me silly, mom. She plays with herself a lot." "How do you know that?" "She told me." Jenny's surprised look was priceless. In the shower, thirty minutes earlier, I had seen the same surprised look when I slipped a finger into her ass. To be continued... *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 60