Mommy knows best

Chapter 33

Every man should have a hobby.

Some guys like to collect stamps. Others climb mountains, scuba dive or garden.

Me? My hobby is f*****g old women.

And like any worthwhile hobby, you've got to put the time in to make it worthwhile. I mean, if mountain climbing is your hobby, you know it's about more than standing on the peak of the mountain. It's preparation and the rigor of the challenge. Hell, you could have a helicopter take you to the mountaintop if that was all it was about.

And slamming your Mr. Johnson into old p***y and watching the aged, lined face go beatific while your jism gushes into the elderly womb and squeezes out into her matted gray cunt hair is sort of reaching the mountain top in my particular hobby. It's the preparation that makes it all worthwhile.

I'm a salesman by trade. And I'm a damn good one, if I do say so myself. I'm in my early 30s and have grin-f****d my way up the corporate ladder so I'm pulling in some pretty nice change.

Over the last couple of years I have indulged my particular hobby with elderly neighbors, mothers (and in some cases, wives) of business partners and it's been a good ride.

Contrary to what you read in some of these stories, real life old lady f*****g involves more than whipping out your love hammer and slinging it in front of grandma to get her juices flowing - if she's got any juices. If she's like most of my conquests, she hasn't been laid in some time and while she hasn't exactly forgotten how to do it, she sometimes needs a little help getting started.

But there's one thing she needs more than your 8-inch c**k or a masterful style. She needs attention.

The one thing I've learned in the real world of porking old p***y is to work up slowly and give her the attention she either never gets anymore or never got.

In my case, I always keep good notes. I remember birthdays, special days, special foods, flowers. They're harmless gestures that will not arouse the suspicion of an old woman like they would of a young one (believe me, I know. I f**k them too). But they are a constant reminder of your attention and it gets grandma thinking of you and sometimes those thoughts can go in pretty interesting directions.

Why did I get so interested in old nookie? I'm not sure, but it may go back to an experience I had while I was in the Navy about 10 years ago. Maybe I'll tell you about it some time.

All I know is I love gently lifting an elderly dug and biting on the hardened n****e while she mews and presses my head to her naked tit. Very touching.

I love slobbering all over her fat belly and the joyful moment when she opens her chunky, veined thighs for me and, hesitantly at first, begins f*****g herself on my hard and happy tongue while I wrap my arms around her droopy ass and drink it all in.

But ultimately, it's the f**k that I'm really after. I'll let her jerk me off if she wants to (old women love that. Dunno why) or if she's got big, floppy t**s, I'll jerk off between 'em and spurt on her face. I love watching the globs of c*m roll off while she smiles up at me through old, or false or non-existent teeth.

After that, she may want to get cleaned up or just wallow in my c*m. Sometimes she'll want to feed me. Isn't that sweet? Whatever happens, though, sooner or later that day after I recharge my batteries, I set grandma down on the bed (stay away from the floors: too hard, too distracting) and give her a nice slow f**k. I love watching her old face smile, and then she'll close her eyes while I speed up the rhythm, muttering, spittle starting to form on her lips. It's great when she gets so carried away that she grabs my ass and forces my c**k into her even deeper.

There we are, an old fat woman in a frenzy of lusty trying to push my whole body into her hungry cunt. Occasionally she'll talk dirty, or what she thinks is dirty but usually the worst (best?)I get out of them is an occasional "f**k!" but more often "yes, yes, oh god, oh god" and an insistent pumping and when she shudders in orgasm, that's when I pump my load and, boy, do they love that.

Recently I became bored with some of the more well to do old women I'd been banging. Don't get me wrong, it was a real kick and I'll go back for more but there's a certain sophistication there that's not as attractive to me. Plus they get demanding over time.

I'm not in this to form a relationship. I don't want cards. I don't want evenings at the symphony. I want to f**k an old woman (68-75 is my target range but I'm flexible) so when the elderly p***y gets too close to home, I move on. Eventually, they want me back and understand my rules. In fact, the only times I've had real luck f*****g grandma's ass has been during these "reconciliation sessions" (but see later). She REALLY wants to please me so the sky's the limit. Naturally I'm only too willing to take advantage of the situation so I punch my c**k into her old asshole and shoot my load then fall on her fat, wide ass while my c*m drips down her crack. Is this heaven, or what?

My community has a food service for shut-in's. It a wonderful volunteer effort where an army of enthusiastic helpers takes lunch to old folks who can't easily get out of their homes. Sometimes you bring them lunch. Sometimes you play cards or just talk. They are so starved for attention, that they really love it. This is a good program and the folks who volunteer do good work.

Of course, my intentions are not as honorable. But here's where the win-win business comes in. My company likes to have its employees do community service work in various clubs, civic groups, volunteer organizations and the like. So I offered to take part of my lunch hour a couple of times a week to deliver food to shut-ins. What a swell guy I am.

Boy, did the office like that! They thought I was an A- #1 fellow and the cute secretary in the transportation office down the hall took a particular liking to me and my generous volunteer service. We're having drinks this Friday . . .

But, of course, all that was just a bonus. I am single-minded in pursuit of my hobby and that's boffing an old woman. It was time to make a new friend.

Now I have pretty specific rules about my prey, er, I mean my old lady friends. They've got to be clean. They've got to have all their body parts . . . I guess those are pretty much all my rules.

Plus I never force them. I can be insistent and even demanding but if there's the slightest indication of resistance or fear, I back off at once. I don't want trouble. There's lots more old nookie out there. Having said that, I've got to tell you that the best pat of the whole business is breaking grandma down so she WANTS me and I don't HAVE to be forceful.

Well, things didn't start out too well in my new "volunteer" program. To make a long story short, I went from place to place and was not real pleased with the picking's.

First of all, some of the recipients of the hot lunches were men. That's not gonna work. And they were really crabby men at that. Over time, I learned how to get different "customers" and worked the entire group of old women and, in my way, made notes on who held the most interest.

Frankly, there weren't a lot. Maybe I was spoiled by the more worldly gals I'd been hammering or maybe these gals had been cooped up too long. But then I found one girl, she was staying in town in the house for about a few days and said that she was visiting family. She was a widow and asked me to call her Ellie.

Ellie just waved that "silly notion" away and took the offensive herself (after taking a healthy sip of Chablis) and hugged me hard and I let my lips touch her sweet-smelling neck and I wondered if she would ever let go until finally she let one hand sort of idly fall into my lap.

And this was the seminal moment - so to speak - when I knew I had her.

My c**k wasn't hard through a supreme act of restraint but I turned her head to face mine and stared into that aged and painted face (a sweet lady, really) and kissed her forehead, her cheeks and, finally, her lips which were dry and unparted. Her eyes stayed open but then she closed them and put a tentative hand behind my head and held my face to her mouth while leaving her other hand on my lap.

"Brian, Brian," she said. "I was so confused . . . I .. . well, I know you really like me."

"Of course, I like you," I said, acting I though I was startled at the very thought. "I just let myself go, I guess."

"Oh, you sweet, sweet boy," she said. "Come here, honey." And she held me to her again and the back of her hand sort of see-sawed on the tip of my rising c**k as though it were an accident.

I turned her head again and kissed her on the mouth, poking at her lips until they parted and I could taste the wine as her unpracticed tongue poked back at mine. How long had it been, I wondered, since she had been kissed like this?

I took a hand from around her waist and moved it up to her breast and felt the softness there and I felt a little shudder from Ellie but it passed and she turned her hand around and felt my c**k through my pants. There's no way she could pretend this was an accident. She wouldn't look at me, though. Instead, she looked over my shoulder while continuing to inexpertly caress my c**k through my pants.

She started talking rather quietly, even seductively, as she continued to massage my prick. I felt her bulk and her warmth and her sweet floral scent. "Billy was never one for romance. Sort of did his business, you know, and went away . . ."

I kissed her neck and wanted to kiss her chest but the dress was zipped from the back. Instead, I boldly placed my hand in HER lap while kissing her, then ran my hand along until I got to the bottom of it and finally felt the warm bulk of her bare knee and put my hand on her leg so she froze for a moment, then began rubbing my c**k faster.

"I can't remember feeling like this. I almost feel like I'm going to swoon."

Wasn't that cute? Nobody says 'swoon' anymore but the idea of this fat old woman falling to the ground and pinning me wasn't a pleasant one.

"You're special," I said rather dumbly, as though I were addressing a contestant in the Special Olympics.

"I'm so old and fat," she said. "I know you must really care for me."

Finally, those thighs I had thought about for months were under my fingers. Without waiting a moment, I ran my hand all the way up to her crotch and felt the tight panel of old lady panties against my sensitive fingertips. I began rubbing against her crotch with my fingers, feeling her thighs, kissing her neck and soon, quietly, without so much as a word of explanation, passion or concern, she started grinding against my fingers and kissed me hard, sucking on my tongue like it was a flat, red pecker.

"You're wonderful and you're lovely," I said and for once, I meant it.

That's all Ellie needed. She took her hand from my c**k and wrapped both meaty arms around my neck and kissed me hard, tongue dancing around wildly, eyes closed. I peeked at the drooping folds of her fat arms and could just about see part of one tit.

I rubbed against her p***y for a bit, then massaged her fat thighs and, in the process managed to pull her long skirt up. She wanted to kiss which is okay for a while but I wanted other excitements. Finally, as though it were an afterthought, she took one hand from around my neck and felt my d**k through my pants. She looked down at it, then into my eyes.

Her makeup was already smeared and with her skirt halfway up her legs, it was a pretty exciting picture. She bent over to unzip my fly and when she did that, I quickly unzipped her dress in the back and reached down at the same time to unhook her bra.

Despite the thickness of her panties, I could feel her starting to cream and I worked the fabric into her slit easily now. In the meantime, she had managed to pull my rock hard d**k into the open where its one expectant eye looked up at Ellie's one good one. She grasped it with her fat, fleshy fingers and began to stroke it lightly. Her fingers felt papery but warm.

"Sweetheart," I whispered, "hold your hands together for a moment."

Ellie looked at me, her eyes a little wild now, then put her hands together so I could slide off the top of her dress. As she did so, her bra hung on to her t**s which were bigger than I had expected. She put both hands on my prick and I whisked off her bra and took in those glorious titties.

You just never know with boobs. Some are flat, some round, some lumpy but Ellie's were droopy with great big brown n*****s. I massaged one and started sucking hungrily on the other while massaging her clit through her panties.

Finally, I stood up and took my pants off while Ellie remained sitting, her skirt hiked up to her waist with the top of her dress resting in her lap, the great floppy t**s and wonderful n*****s hanging out, hard and ready.

"Brian," she breathed a little heavily, as though trying to pretend she was not aroused and breathless. "What are you going to do?"

Some grandma's you can say "I'm going to f**k you raw until you scream for me to stop" or "I'm going to c*m all over you and squeeze your big, fat ass." You've got to know what to say. These weren't the words for Ellie, I knew. Call it a gift.

“Now I know why my grand-niece wants to f**k her boy toy,” said the woman in a cultured voice and suddenly she underwent a personality change so soon that I felt like it was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.