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Introduction:

Just how dirty can an old man be? Old male, young fem
I moved into number 2 Hillcrest the day of my 19th birthday. It was a small apartment with a tiny kitchen, a small sittingroom, shower room and a bedroom big enough for a double bed and a bedside cabinet. I didn’t care, it was mine – all mine. I didn’t know a soul in this town and that was just how I liked it.

I’d just made myself a coffee and started to flick through a magazine when there was a knock on my door. Wondering who on earth it could be I slid the chain on before opening the door. A man, elderly, was standing there. “Hello” he said, “I noticed I had a new neighbour and thought it would be a neighbourly thing to introduce myself” and proceeded to push his hand through the crack in the door to shake my hand. A little startled I smiled and shook his hand. “hi I’m Jill” I said, “pleased to meet you”. “Albert” he said, “I stay across the landing at number 4, if you need anything or just fancy a chat just pop over, my doors always open and I know how difficult it is being on your own and being in a new place”. With that he nodded at me then turned and left. “Thank you” I called after him, “I’ll do that”, but not having the slightest intention of ever knocking on his door.

A couple of days later I came home after a pretty soul destroying tour of the job centres and local bars and shops. “Sorry, we’ve nothing just now” was the message from them all. I let myself into the apartment and immediately the cold hit me. “Shit” I thought as I realised my heating was definitely not working. I went to the boiler which was silent and had no idea what to do. I knew I couldn’t afford to call a service engineer and stood there wondering what the hell to do. After the day I’d had it was just the final straw. I heard the sound of a key in a lock then sound of a door shutting. “I wonder” I thought to myself as I crossed the landing and knocked on Alberts door. He opened and smiled at me. “Hello there” he said. Close to tears I began to tell him about my heating in the hope he could do something about it. He laughed and said “Its an old temperamental heating system and I know just how to get it going” and with that followed me into my apartment. Sure enough with a few bangs and pushing of buttons it fired into life. “Thanks” I said, “would you like a cup of tea?” He shook his head and insisted I come to his as it was much warmer.

His apartment was the same as mine only warmer and we chatted over tea and biscuits as I told him about my day. He was so easy to talk too. He told me about himself, he was 71, that he had been a widower for 12 years and that his family had all but abandoned him choosing to only contact him on birthdays and Christmas. After about an hour I made to leave but felt I should thank him for his help so insisted he come over to mine later and have some supper with me, to which he accepted.

Albert arrived at my door at 7.30 as arranged sporting a bottle of red wine. Thankfully the apartment was now warm and I told him to go sit down while I served up supper. We chatted, ate and drank and had a very pleasant evening. We moved from the small table to the single sofa and settled ourselves. I suppose it must have been the wine, perhaps my lack of male contact for so long, or maybe just loneliness but I began to find myself wondering what it would be like kissing him.

“Tell me about your wife Albert” I heard myself asking him. “You must miss her”. He smiled a kinda far away smile and told me she had been a beautiful, gentle woman and yes, he missed her every day. He described her hair, her eyes and her smile and I felt myself being drawn closer to him. Then without another thought I leaned into him and kissed him softly, lingering longer than a friendly kiss. I drew back slightly, afraid I had offended or shocked him but he just smiled then reached behind my head and drew me back to him and we kissed. Softly, gently at first, then deeper and harder. My heart was racing, not once did I think that he was older than my Grandad. My only thought was how excited I was becoming. I knew he was becoming as excited as I was, his breathing became heavier and his hands were running up and down my back. He dipped his head and started to kiss and bite my neck. I was so turned on. I wanted to touch him, to let my hands roam his body. I could feel through his shirt that he was a man who had taken care of himself, he felt firm and strong. I started to unbutton his shirt, never letting him stop kissing and biting me and my hands met warm, firm flesh. His breath sharpened when I touched his nipples and from this he took is cue. Reaching beneath my t shirt he stroked his way up my braless body till his fingers found my rock hard nipples. He flicked and rolled them between is fingers making my body arch forward seeking more. I broke from him and took my t shirt off. He held me away slightly from him and took in my body, feasting his eyes on my large firm breasts. A growl came from him as he plunged his head to my chest and began sucking each in turn. I was moaning with desire as I removed his shirt. I couldn’t remember ever being this turned on and I told him that. He sucked harder, taking the whole nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it. I could feel my pussy flooding. I reached for his trousers but his hand stopped me and he lifted his head, looking me in the eyes.

I looked at him pleadingly and asked what was wrong. “your 19 Jill, I’m 71 and I want to do the dirtiest things you can imagine to you. Are you sure this is what you want? If your not sure we stop now, but if we take this any further I can promise you I wont stop no matter how much you ask me too”

Stop?? I didn’t want this to stop! I looked him in the eyes and said “Albert, all I can think about right now is you fucking me with your 71 year old hard cock. I don’t want to stop. I want you to fuck me”.

With that he stood up and reached for my hand and let me to the bedroom…….


If you like it and want more let me know…………….
7 comments

Anonymous readerReport 

2009-02-21 19:19:55
Hey, reader "Hell yes, we want more!" -- did it ever occur to you that older women are just as sick of YOUR age spots and YOUR wrinkles? You're a sexist moron, and I hope that no woman touches you for the rest of your life -- that's what women-haters like you deserve.

MindyReport 

2009-02-14 18:35:27
This was hot.Please much more!
I went all wet and turned on.Remindes me of my own frigging fantasies.

Anonymous readerReport 

2009-02-14 12:11:37
i am 65 and would like 2 show a younger women how 2 start at her anklesand come up 2 her pussy and then eat her and let her cum all over my face

Anonymous readerReport 

2009-02-14 09:01:20
More, please.

Anonymous readerReport 

2009-02-14 02:53:20
A story having a diffrent perspective which has a more lot of Fun in it than usual sex Stories :) :P

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