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Cricket

By: emma579



Ben was unlocking the door to his apartment when he heard the first scream. It took him a moment, but the second scream drew him down to the first floor. The front door to the apartment below his was open; a bag of groceries lay on its side just inside. He stepped forward cautiously, hearing another cry. 

There was a woman, sitting on the kitchen counter, her feet drawn up. She gave him a wide eyed look while pointing at the floor. "Get rid of that thing," she pled, her voice trembling as much as the hand that pointed, "Please...please, help me."

Ben stepped into the apartment and looked down. In the middle of the kitchen floor was a large cricket. He snorted, then looked up at the woman again. "A....cricket," he chuckled, "Crick-et." You'd think it was something horrible.

"Please..." Her eyes pleaded with him.

Ben stepped further into the apartment, watching the woman. She had moved in only recently and he hadn't met her yet. An oversight, he thought, eyeing her tousled blond curls and big blue eyes. Her skin, a bit pale at the moment, looked like cream and he imagined it would feel as soft. She wore a tee shirt and shorts, leaving long slender legs bare. A pair of flip flops lay on the kitchen floor. Maybe being her rescuer would have its benefits.

"I'll take care of it," he said, hiding his smile and picking up a glass from the counter and a letter from the mail scattered over the floor. He approached the cricket, hearing the squeak from the counter. He scooped the cricket up and carried it outside, releasing it into the bushes beside the parking lot. Then he returned to the apartment, stooping to pick up his backpack and carry it in with him.

"Close the door, please," the woman asked, still sitting on the counter, "Please, keep it outside."

Ben complied, then picked up the groceries and mail as he approached the kitchen. He dropped everything on the first counter, placed his backpack on the floor and then crossed to the woman. She gave him a hesitant smile. "Thanks."

He stepped closer. "It was just a cricket," he murmured.

"I know," she gave a little shrug, slowly letting her legs dangle off the edge of the counter, "but...eww." She gave him a second little smile, then crooked her finger at him. "My hero..."

Ben grinned as he stepped closer, between her legs, and she slid her hands up to his shoulders. "I guess I am."

One of her hands slid into his hair as she leaned closer. "Then I guess you deserve a reward," she whispered. She brushed her lips along his jaw.

"I'm all yours," he answered, his voice husky. His body was heating, tensing, as her fingers playfully stroked his cheek, then fiddled with the collar of his shirt.

"Aren't I lucky," she purred. Her hands dove to the hem of his shirt, gripping and tugging it up, peeling the tee over his head. She gave a little hum, stroking her fingers over his chest and shoulders. She gave a little smile, then leaned close to brush her tongue along his bottom lip.

"We can debate luck later," he growled, cupping her face in his hands and pressing his mouth to hers. Personally, he'd never been so glad for a cricket. She was sweet, warm, soft...his hands stroked down her arms. "Let's find a bed."

"I can help with that," she murmured, wrapping her legs around his hips, "But, remember, this is your reward. I get to play first."

His mind went blank for a moment at her words, then he scooped her close, enjoying the press of her body against his as she slid her arms around his neck. "Ladies first," he managed.

Her chuckle was warm against his neck as she swirled her tongue just under his ear. "Bedroom's to the left," she whispered, then laughed again, "but I guess you know that. You're the one upstairs, yes?"

Ben carried her out of the kitchen and across the living room. "Yes," he answered, "Why?"

"Oh, Ben, that's so good," she mimicked with another breathless laugh as he tumbled her onto the bed. At his arched brow, she smiled, "She was very loud."

Ben straddled her body, leaning on his arms, looking into her smiling face. He didn't know whether to be embarrassed or proud. Finally he just laughed. "Teri is loud," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her, "But she has other...benefits."

"I know," the woman lifted her hips to rub against him, "You were rather loud as well."

Now he was embarrassed. "Sorry..."

"Don't be," she teased, her hands circling his wrists, "Now I get to sample myself..." In a swift move, she shifted and knocked him off balance, using her advantage to roll on top. She lowered her head and stroked up from his belly to his chest with her tongue. His breath caught in his throat.

"I can't wait," he managed. Her fingers were busy unbuttoning his jeans, brushing his straining cock, as his hips lifted unconsciously. She made a little sound of pleasure as she tugged the denim apart and then slipped her hand inside his boxers. Her fingers wrapped around his stiffening shaft.

"Oooh, Teri was right, you are a big boy," she purred, easing his cock free. Ben felt his face flush, but couldn't think beyond the sensation of her fingers stroking him. He watched her lick her lips and felt himself swell even more. He reached down, trying to push his jeans and boxers down, and she laughed, helping him peel them and his shoes off, until he lay naked on her bed.

"My hero...here's your reward," she murmured, resting one hand on his thigh as she used the other to wrap the base of his cock. She leaned down, swirling her tongue over his tip, making him groan. Ben propped himself up on his elbows to watch her lap at his erection, stroking her tongue up and down his length. She gave him a wink just before she wrapped her lips around his head and started to suck.

"My God," he groaned, his hips lifting from the bed. She just pushed her lips down further onto his cock. Both her hands wrapped around his base, her thumbs stroking up and down as she bobbed her head, sucking him in and out of her mouth. Ben fisted his hands in her sheets, the sensation of wet heat enveloping him, the pressure of her mouth so close to what he needed. He could feel the tension building in his groin, his balls tightening... "I'm going to cum if you keep it up," he panted.

She pressed her mouth down to swallow as much of his shaft as she could, his head stretching her throat, her eyes locking on his. She held a moment, feeling him pulse inside her, then slowly eased up, sliding his glistening cock out between her lips. As she let his head pop free, he groaned and her fingers tightened, stilling his release. She licked her lips, watching him. "Do you want to cum in my mouth," she purred, "or would you rather fill...something else?"

She leaned back on her heels, peeling her own tee over her head, baring her bra-less breasts to him. They were firm, rosy, her nipples hard beads that made his mouth water. "Well?"

Ben just stared, unable to remember her question. She shifted forward, pressing one hand to the bed between her legs as she leaned on it and used the other hand to tug her shorts over her ass. She gave a little wiggle of her hips and her breasts bounced and Ben's mouth went dry suddenly.

"Sweetie," she purred, "You need to choose your reward." She worked the shorts off, then sat back again, spreading her legs to show him her bare pink flesh, already glistening. "Do you want me to take you into my mouth and take you over..." She licked her lips. "Or do you want to bury that cock in my cunt and fill it with your cum?"

Ben groaned, "Are you kidding?"

She spread her arms and laughed. "What do you want, Ben?"

Instead of answering her, he suddenly lunged forward, catching her arms and pulling her toward him. Using his advantage, he rolled on top, pinning her down with his hips. "I'll take what I want," he murmured, then kissed her hard. Her body was soft under his and he deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of her, sliding his tongue between her lips as her mouth opened. He feasted on her mouth until he felt her hands sliding down over his stomach.

"Don't rush me, babe," he growled, catching her wrists and pressing them back onto the pillows. She smiled at him and gave him a wink.

"Oh, Ben, that's so good," she teased. He just growled and bent his head to nip her breast. She gasped and this time he gave her a wink.

"I'll give you good," he whispered, swirling his tongue around her nipple, watching her eyes narrow, her tongue stroke her top lip, "But you have to promise to keep your hands where they are."

She flexed her fingers, making a little pout. "I promise," she finally whispered. 

Ben just smiled and released her wrists, watching her hold her hands steady, but her fingers wiggled in a wave as she smiled. "Good girl," he chuckled. He shifted to his knees, trailing kisses and licks down her body. She squirmed a little under him and he could hear her breathing falter. Hiding a smile, he nipped her stomach, then her thigh, using his hands to spread her legs. 

"I didn't get a good look before," he murmured, dipping his head to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh. "Mmm." His tongue stroked over her swollen folds and her hips lifted. These lips were even sweeter and he used his thumbs to part her folds, exposing her juicy pink pussy. His tongue stroked up and down her slit, teasing, savoring. 

He could feel the tension in her body as he used his tongue to rub her clit. She was making little moans and animal noises, panting and breathless, and he felt like his own body was on fire. He wanted to feel her cum, to taste that rush of cream, before he buried his aching flesh in her soft center. He thrust his tongue against her pussy, tilting his head to watch her pleasure, seeing her body arch. His hands held her hips as he lapped at her quivering hole, swirling around, dipping in, making her hips buck until she cried out, cumming hard.

She shuddered, limp beneath him, as he came up to his knees, draping her legs over his thighs. He wrapped a hand around his shaft, stroking his head against her creamy folds to watch her belly quiver. "Ben," she moaned, her eyes opening slowly, her hands shifting restlessly on the bed. He smiled as he fit his head against her opening, then leaned forward to press his lips to hers.

"How's this," he murmured, pushing inside her. He clenched his jaw at the soft heat, the tightness of her cunt and the slickness that enveloped him. She moaned, arching up to press to him, her legs wrapping his hips.

"Oh God," she panted.

"My sentiments exactly," he managed, starting a hard, driving rhythm, fucking her eagerly. He groaned as she writhed, thrusting his cock as deep and as hard as he could. Her hands started to reach for him and he caught her wrists again, pressing them back as he leaned forward, his hips against her hips as he worked his shaft in and out.

At his mercy, she could do nothing but shift and squirm and moan breathlessly as he drove her higher and higher. Ben wanted to hear her scream, wanted to feel her cum on his cock...he wanted more. "Come on, babe," he growled, "Give me all you've got."

"Ben, please," she moaned, straining under him, thrusting her hips to meet his. She was so hot, so desperate, so close...

He guided her hands to the headboard, wrapping her fingers around the rungs. Even as she clung, Ben's hands pressed against her thighs, tilting her hips to thrust down into her cunt, drilling deep. She cried out breathlessly with each stroke and he gritted his teeth, trying to hold back his own growing need to cum. His cock was aching, swelling, throbbing. The grip of her pussy was so tight, so hot...she felt so good.

"Ben," she whimpered, her fingers tightening on the rungs.

"Scream for me," he whispered, close to her ear, his tongue stroking her neck, "Scream for me as you cum."

He rocked his hips with each thrust, rubbing himself against her clit even as he filled her. He felt the first ripples of her inner muscles and thrust harder, intent on pushing her over...before he came himself. Her hands went to his shoulders, clutching, as he hammered her pussy, grunting.

"Ben..." It was the scream he was waiting to hear. With a hoarse groan, he tightened his grip on her thighs and drove deep, his cock swelling tight within her as she arched up, sobbing. Her pussy clamped around him, milking him as she shuddered through her climax. His penis pulsed as his breath caught and then he came, erupting into her like a geyser, groaning as he collapsed forward onto her. Her cunt milked every drop, her muscles rippling around his shaft, their cum mingling as it spilled around him. 

He eased back, pulling free and collapsing to the bed beside her. He lay on his side, sweaty, out of breath, spent. She lay on the bed, giving him a lazy, satisfied smile. "Thank you for rescuing me," she whispered, stroking a finger down his chest.

"I don't even know your name," he murmured, catching her hand. She bit her lip and he felt his cock jerk with the memory of those lips touching him.

She shook her head. "You'll laugh," she said softly.

"I want to know your name," he answered, catching a curl in with his fingers and giving a light tug, "You know mine."

"Cricket," she whispered, closing her eyes. Ben bit back the laugh she was so worried about and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her eyes opened in surprise and he deepened the kiss, adding a little heat. When his mouth lifted from hers, she continued breathlessly, "Cricket Wagner...my mom is a little...unique."

"Hey, I'm pretty into crickets," he couldn't hold back the chuckle, "especially blond ones...."

Cricket Call



It was dark, probably about midnight, when I went into Sally's room. I stood looking over her room with a tremendous hard on pointing into the darkness like a searching finger. I looked down on her bed. As always, it was carefully made up, a modest but neat cotton blanket to keep the chill off during the cool summer nights. On the night stand was a picture of her 30 year-old son, barely visible in the darkness, a lamp and her Bible.

Sally, of course, was not here. I would never have dared step into her room if she were. After all, I was just 20 years old and I was renting a spare room in her house, just across the hall from her own bedroom. She was really more than my landlady. After all, she was only charging me $10 a month, mostly as a favor to my girlfriend who worked for her at one of Sally's dress shops. So Sally was really a friend.

When my girlfriend Abby introduced us for the first time I had called her Mrs. Josephs. I knew she had been divorced for many years, had one son, and lived alone in the big house on the edge of town. She went to church every Sunday, of course, but also attended church meetings during the week.

"Please call me Sally," she said as she hugged me. As I tried to thank her for giving me a room for the low rate while I finished my last semester in junior college, she dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand.

"I'm just glad to have a man in the house," she said. "Living way out there by myself..." then she went on to talk about her son who lived about 45 minutes away and how he never visited her enough.

Sally was a big woman in every way. About 58 years old, she always wore a big smile and had a broad chest and thick legs. She was almost 5 feet 9 inches tall and always kept her hair in an impeccable condition. I never saw her, day or night, when her gray hair wasn't teased, combed and styled nicely in place. She always looked nice but was certainly no beauty.

In the meantime, I was enjoying a relationship with my steady girlfriend, Abby. She was a bright, pretty thing but made it clear any sex would have to wait for marriage. I was not yet ready for marriage and thought it ironic that, in the midst of the sexual revolution of the 70s, I was not seeing any battle. Occasionally, I would gently stroke Abby's breasts and she would moan but then break off our petting and smile while explaining that "good girls don't do that."

My only experience with sex was with an enthusiastic member of a current events club at college. We certainly didn't linger over the act but what we lacked in technique we more than made up for in frequency. Eventually, we both found others. She found an older man. I found Abby.

And now I was standing in Sally's room in the middle of the night in a big house in the middle of nowhere with absolutely nobody here. Still, I was excited beyond all measure. And it was for the same old reason.

Abby and I would go out to a movie or an ice cream stand (that's all I could afford!) And then we would make out in the car in the driveway to her home. After about 30 minutes, her mother would start turning the porch light off and on which was her subtle way of saying it's time to go home. 

I was anything but ready to go home. I had heard the term "blue balls" but never understood it until I started dating Abby. I felt so sexually frustrated that I thought my balls would explode by the time I got home. Usually I got home about midnight and Sally would be in her room, asleep. I could hear her gently snoring as I went into my room. Over time, I started thinking about Sally in a completely different way.

Of course it was crazy! I knew that. Here was this old, church-going grandmother who was doing me this big favor by charging me next to nothing to live here and I was starting to have, as Abby would put it, impure thoughts. As I walked back to my room after a date with Abby and my blue balls were throbbing, I wondered about Mrs. Josephs and if she ever thought about sex, specifically, sex with me. On more than one occasion, I hoped she would call out to me as I walked to my room. She never did, of course, but I would fantasize about her before falling asleep.

Once when I followed her upstairs I watched her two great ass cheeks as she took each step. I had seen her bra once in the bathroom and was amazed -- no, I was in awe -- of the size of the cups and I could only imagine what it would be like to suck such great big tits as hers. 

Then there was her hair. Something about it really got to me. I wanted to snake my fingers through it and force her big round face to my cock. It was this last fantasy that usually did it for me. I would lay on my stomach in my dark bedroom and imagine my hot cum squirting down the throat of chunky old Sally. Instead, I would have to settle for squirting inside my underwear and listening to the quiet mewing of Mrs. Josephs in the next bedroom.

So it is probably a lot clearer now why, with Sally out of town, I strolled into her bedroom and looked down at her empty bed. I could smell the scent of her here. It was not a floral or perfumy scent , just a clean one. I sat down on the edge of her bed, then gently pulled back the covers which were tidily tucked under the pillows. Then I slipped under the covers.

This was far more exciting than I had expected and I almost came on the spot. I could smell the scent of her here and it was very exciting. This was the very place I wanted to be on so many nights and here I was. Sure, Sally wasn't here, but I could smell and feel her somehow. I reached under the pillow and found her nightgown hiding there. It looked like a low-necked cotton nightgown and was surprisingly short. I stretched my body on the full sized bed and let my hard, naked cock rub against the sheets, the same sheets that Sally rubbed her body against every night. I imagined her huge tits flopping out of the low nightgown and I rubbed by cock along the sheets, reveling in the fantasy. When I got out of the bed, I carefully retucked the sheets (I even turned on the light to make sure I did it right) and returned to my room. I felt guilty but aroused by the whole experience.

I thought nothing more about the incident or my feelings for Sally even after she returned home a few days later. But that afternoon when I got home after school, I saw something in my room that first puzzled me then flustered and shamed me. It was a pair of my underwear, neatly folded and placed at the foot of my bed. I knew I hadn't put them there and tried to think how they got there. Then I realized these were the same pair of shorts I had worn into Sally's room a few days back. Once I had gotten into her bed, I slipped them off and, apparently, I had forgotten about them. And here they were! Sally must have found them when she got into her bed.

I didn't know what to do. If the same thing had happened to me ten years later, I would have been much more composed. But here I was, a 20 year-old, caught with my hand in the cookie chair. I was mortified!

Of course, I couldn't look at her. For the next three days I made it a point to remain in my room until Sally had left the house or gone to bed. I was so embarrassed that I even missed some important classes rather than face her. Naturally, this couldn't last forever and when I finally took a deep breath and forced myself to pass her in the kitchen on my way out the door, I tried to be calm but it didn't work.

" 'morning, Sally," I tried to say nonchalantly as I walked out the door but my voice caught and it came out a mumble.

"Huh?" said Sally, turning to me. "Oh, hi, Atkins. Going to school?"

"Yep, see you later," I said and practically flew out the door. Sally did not seem comfortable either I felt like Barney Fife on the old Andy Griffith show, but at least I had broken the ice. Things went a little easier after that and neither of us said anything about the underwear incident. 

Sally liked to take long bubble baths and she would usually take a book or magazine in there with her while she bathed. She kept her books and magazines in a little pull out drawer next to the tub and from time to time I would check out what she was reading. Usually, she read trade magazines and Good Housekeeping. This time, though, I saw a paperback book on the top of the magazines in the drawer. When I pulled it out and looked at it, my heart started pounding.

It was one of those books masquerading as something it wasn't. In this case, it was supposed to be a serious work about the causes of incest but what it contained were numerous graphic accounts of mothers with young sons, aunts with nephews and many, many accounts of young men having sex with much older women. One of the stories I still remember very well. 

In this story a 16 year-old boy was sleeping in a double bed with his much older grandmother. It was an innocent (although looking back today it certainly seems damned suspicious) arrangement but in the middle of the night, according to the story, the boy's hand fell on his grandmother's breasts and she found herself aroused. Convinced the boy was asleep, she reached for his erect cock and stroked it until he came in her hand, then she fingered herself to orgasm and went to sleep. According to this story, grandma and grandson did this for some time, both pretending the other didn't know what was going on.

But it wasn't this crazy story that got my blood rushing. Sally had both book marked and turned down the corner of the page. Just this page. There was no way anyone picking up this book could have missed this selection. And the only person who could have picked it up ... was me.

What was I to make of this situation? Sally had no young men in her life at all. Except me. And she had never read or, at least, let me see her reading a book like this. No. This was new. And I thought I knew what it meant.

Sally probably understood at once how my underwear ended up in her bed. She would know better than to think I would be screwing Abby in her bed. For one thing, she understood all too well Abby's reluctance. And from a more practical standpoint, my bed was bigger than Sally's anyway. No, she understood exactly what I was doing there.

Perhaps, after all, Sally had feelings for me that were more than, well, maternal. And maybe she had decided I felt the same way about her. If that's the case, she was right.

When I found the book I no longer felt like I was living a fantasy with Sally Josephs. Now I felt more like a voyeur, visiting an intimate place in this old woman's world and wondering if I was being invited in.

That Friday night Abby and I went to a romantic movie with a particularly exciting love scene. If I had any thought that Abby would be aroused by the film, I was sadly mistaken. If anything, she seemed more distant than usual and got angry when I stroked her breast. To put it simply, it was a short evening.

When I got home, Sally was downstairs in her parlor. The rest of the house was dark and I could hear the sound of crickets in the woods surrounding this isolated house even when I got inside.

"You're home early," she said. Sally was wearing her nightgown but wore a modest robe over it. She was reading a paperback book and had a half-empty glass of wine on the table beside her.

"Yeah," I said. "We got into a little fight."

"Abby's such a sweet girl. I'm so happy for you two. You'll get over it" It was becoming clear that Sally had drunk more than just half a glass of wine. She was slurring her words and when she tried to get up, she seemed a little unsteady. When she put the book down, I could see it was our incest book. I looked up at her and gestured toward the paperback on the table.

"Interesting book," I said.

Sally half mumbled something, then picked up the book and turned the cover down as though she didn't want me to see it. For a moment, I had to catch my breath as I looked at Sally. Her two gorgeous tits had practically plopped out of the nightgown and with the robe half open, they were in full view. When she turned around to move the book I could easily see through the sheer robe to a wide pair of panties reigning in those two massive ass cheeks.

She turned around holding the half-filled glass of wine. "I know what you need," she said. "Just a minute."

I wasn't sure what was going to happen next but Sally left the room, went into the kitchen and she started talking to me from there. "Whenever I feel a little low or have problems," she was saying, "I always make up one of these." I heard her giggle. "Especially with problems of love."

As she came back into the room, I noticed she had rearranged those wonderful breasts back into her nightgown. I was surprised how white and soft her chest looked. "Here," she said,handing me a glass of milk and a plate with a sandwich on it. "Nothing like peanut butter and jelly to wash away the blues." Except she said "blue-sh" and I saw her wine glass was once again full. 

If she had walked back into the room naked I couldn't have been more surprised. Sally and I always dined separately (I often ate at Abby's house with her family) and she had never so much as handed me a glass of water before. The truth is, we pretty much led our own lives around the house and seldom interacted or even spoke. This was about as personal as she had ever been.

"I like blueberry jam but raspberry is good too," she said, giggling again. I took a big bite of the sandwich and I noticed she was eying me carefully.

"Home grown preserves are best but I like some of the store brands too." Sally stood up a little unsteadily and walked over to me. I guess my eyes must have bugged out some as she took her little finger and wiped it on the corner of my mouth. There was a little dab of peanut butter there. Sally stuck her pinky in her mouth and sucked off the peanut butter. Then she continued talking, all the while leaving the finger in her mouth as though she had just forgotten all about it. 

"Now men like crunchy peanut butter, I read it in the paper today. Women, they like smooth." She looked at me again, a little blurry glint in her eye. Then she took the finger out of her mouth and ran it along my upper lip, then around my bottom lip. It was wet and warm. I felt a little silly (and perplexed) but swallowed the bite of sandwich in my mouth.

"Yes, Atkins, I just love peanut butter." And she took another long sip of wine and began licking my mouth, my face, my eyes all the while holding my head still. "My poor baby, "she was mumbling all the while. "My poor, poor baby. I know what it's like. I do. Baby. Poor baby.

Then old Mrs. Josephs pressed her moist lips against mine and first flicked then jammed her tongue into my mouth. I was so shocked that my eyes remained open but Sally's were closed tight in passion as she held my head fast and tongue-fucked my mouth, licking my teeth, sucking on my tongue. I was awash in tastes of raspberry jam, peanut butter (crunchy, not smooth) and wine. She held me tight with one sturdy arm and, at last, let me go, looked at me smiling, then kissed me hard again.

Now my amazement was being replaced by something else. My cock was beginning to rise to the occasion. "I know, I know," she was saying and then she pressed my face against her chest where I nuzzled between those pendulous, elderly tits while listening to her soft words of consolation and the crickets chirping in the wide expanse of darkness outside.

I tried to do something with my right arm and wrapped it around her back, feeling her bulk and the warmth of her skin through the light robe and nightgown. I ran my free hand down the robe to the base of her ass and let it linger there. She held me tight to her breasts and finally let go and held my face again in her hands. Just when I thought she was going to kiss me again, Sally stood up. She looked at me warmly and I started first lightly touching, then squeezing her tits through the robe.

"I know, I know," she was saying again and I figured the only thing she could know is how damned horny I was. She took my hand from her breast and held it in her own warm, spotted hand and smiled at me again. "Come," she said, pulling me toward the stairs to the bedrooms.

My heart was pounding as I followed her up the stairs, her plump ass leading the way. She pushed open the door to her bedroom. It was dark but I could see the reflection of a full moon through the window and the Bible and picture on her night stand.

She turned to look at me and again kissed me, then sucked on my chin, my neck, even my hair. "You taste delicious," she said with just a touch of slurring. Now it was my turn to take control.

I removed Sally's light nightrobe and I thought she seemed a little amused. She opened my shirt and started kissing my chest. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding. Next, I slipped the strap off her left shoulder and one great, elderly tit plopped out in front of me. I could see it clearly in the moon light. The aureole surrounding the thick nipple was half as wide as my hand. I bent down to take it all in my mouth but Sally stepped back.

For once, she seemed perfectly sober. She made no move to clothe herself but looked at me a little sadly. "I am sorry," she said. "I am so old and fat. I know you're not interested in an ugly old woman like me." And she moved to cover herself. I stopped her and looked her in the eye.

"I think you are beautiful," I said and moved her hand gently from the strap. I bent down and stroked the great old tit, then put my mouth on it and sucked and sucked while my cock groaned against my zipper.

"Oh, you sweet boy," she was saying. "You sweet, sweet boy . . ."

It took both my hands to hold the massive tit for my sucking. I flicked at it with my tongue, chewed on it and sucked harder and harder. It was the sucking that drew the most response from old Sally. She pressed my head to her tit and murmured something unintelligible. I took a break to catch my breath.

"You have the greatest tits," I said sincerely. "I could stay there forever." Then I gently removed the other strap from her nightgown and it dropped to the floor, exposing not only her other tit but the entire length of her body. This time I sucked on the right one while squeezing the other with my free hand. She wore a wide pair of old woman's panties and I let my hand brush against the crotch. Again, she seemed a little nervous about my probing.

"It's okay, Sally," I said looking the old woman in the eye. "There's no one around. It's just you and me and I think you are gorgeous," and while the crickets trilled in the darkness, I pressed my hardness against her and put my arms around her, feeling her soft back and hooking my fingers through her panties. Then I dropped to the floor, and in the process, pulled off her pants so she was standing there naked in the moonlight before me. She was clearly aroused, but unsure what to do.

I looked at her body, the round, full belly, the thick thighs culminating in a heavy mat of grey-brown hair over her cunt and pushed her back against her bed. She sat down and I spread her legs and forced my head into her crotch. This certainly surprised her and she seemed to resist but when I kissed the inside of her thighs, she relented and I dove into her pussy with a reckless abandon that may have lacked in form but more than made up in enthusiasm.

Sally smelled like baby powder and I could feel the wetness there as I probed with a finger, than darted my tongue in and out of her elderly vagina. She was trying to say something like "it's been so long..." and later, "I never . .." but before long it was just a loud and almost continuous moan of pleasure that drowned out even the sound of the crickets.

I tried to take a breath but old Mrs. Josephs would not let me. She pushed my head between her legs saying, at first quietly, then louder, "suck it, suck it, lick it, yes, there, there, Atkins,Atkins" and she pumped at my head so pretty soon all I had to do was leave my tongue in her pussy and she fucked herself on it.




Cricket Call



Sally was really going now and any inhibitions she once had were long gone. This old church lady was slamming her cunt into my face like a pile driver and I was taking it all. Finally, she said in almost a scream, "oh, God... Jesus!" and flopped back on the bed. I stood up and whipped off my shirt, kicked off my shoes and mercifully, took off my pants so my eager cock was finally free. For a moment I thought of all the times I had stood in her empty room and fantasized about Sally. Nothing I imagined, however, was better than this.

"Sit up Sally," I commanded her. After a moment when her breathing had died down some, she obeyed to see my erect cock in front of her face. She seemed amazed. "My God," she whispered, as though not believing this herself.

"Suck it," I said. Sally looked at me and nodded. While I stood, she scooted her generous ass along the bed and first gingerly probed at my cock, wiping the pre cum with her finger. She licked it and then took it all. I was amazed. She began working my cock like a veteran, rubbing those full lips along its entire length, lingering at the tip to flick at it with her tongue. I looked down at her beautifully coifed silver hair going forward and back on my member and thought of all the other late night fantasies. But this was better. Oh, yes.

So taken was I by my pleasure, I didn't realize that Sally was really getting into this. She was sucking and licking and grunting at the same time. She put her two beefy hands on my ass and forced me in and out of her mouth (like I needed encouragement!) And I put my hands in her hair and forced her like a piston on and off my throbbing manhood. 

She took her lips off me and I thought she was finished but she started to give my crotch kisses like she slobbered all over my face earlier. She was licking my thighs and taking my balls in her wonderfully warm and gentle mouth. Then she licked my belly and pulled gently on my pubic hair with her teeth. Then back to the work at hand, she put her aged lips around my dick and took up the sucking like never before. She was so enthusiastic I could see her huge tits slapping back and forth as she sucked. She held my ass tighter and I ripped at her hair, forcing her mouth on me over and over until, finally, I came, shooting loads of hot semen into her mouth and her cheeks bulged obscenely when she backed off, a dribble of cum running down her chin.

I was both excited and sated but old Sally Joseph would have none of it. She threw back the covers on the bed and laid on the very pillows and sheets I had run my cock along in my fantasies so very long ago. Her body was white and her tits flopped on each side of her as she laid there. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hands and I could see the hunger in her eyes.

"Now," she said, patting the bed. "Finish me. Finish me."

I thought these were odd words but I needed no encouragement. I jumped on her and she took my cock between her tits and managed to flick her tongue on the tip of it.

Next I laid on the length of her, felt her soft, chubby body beneath me and was aroused again. She was kissing and licking my shoulders and I sucked on her soft ear, then whispered into it. "I want to fuck you, Sally. I've wanted to fuck you for such a long time."

She looked at me and smiled. I could smell my cum on her breath, the wine, the peanut butter. "God help me, I've wanted you too Atkins. So many nights . . . and then when I saw your clothes in my bed. It's been so long and so many feelings, so many . . ."

But I was on her like a cat. Her pussy was wet and eager and when I ran my cock along it, her eyes closed and she nodded. "Fuck me with that wonderful sweet penis of yours, Atkins." I jammed it into her and was amazed at how big her hole was. In my limited sexual experience, younger pussies were much tighter, but Sally's would do just fine.

"That feels so good, Atkins. So good." And she grabbed my ass again as I plunged in and out, kissing her tits, biting her shoulder and combing my hands though that wonderful head of gray hair. "Oh, yes. More, more. Harder. Faster, Atkins. Fuck me, Atkins. Do it. Do it. I want to feel you squirt inside me again. Fill me with you, you sweet boy. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She was aroused a third time and I pumped and pumped and pumped and when I came, her rapid breathing reached a fever pitch, she let out a little "oh" and seemed to fall against the bed, her old face looking illumined, this time by more than the moon outside.

Of course, that wasn't the last time for Sally and me. It became something of a ritual when I would get in late after a Saturday or Friday night with Abby. If I didn't hear her sleeping, I would usually hear a question? "How was your evening, Atkins?"

Then I would take off my clothes and walk into her room with my erect phallus pointing at her bed. Unlike the old days, however, Sally Josephs would be in it. She would be laying in the bed wearing nothing but that grandmotherly smile. Then she would flick the covers back, I would get in and we would fuck and suck the night away with just the chirping crickets as witness. 



Cricket's Calamari Catharsis



There's always a straw that breaks the proverbial camel's back (no cruelty intended) and for Cricket, it was calamari. Calamari was her catharsis. 

She had recently discovered the succulent squid she loved eating so much were intelligent creatures; studies had proven they were as smart as dogs. "How can I eat something that has the same intelligence as my family's pet? How cruel!"

She stopped eating calamari. 

There were other telltale signs of enlightenment for Cricket; creeping into her subconscious long before the calamari, but she hadn't realized it. It seemed every time she turned around, she'd hear, see or read about another animal cruelty-related incident. 

She felt plagued by the subject; like an itch that always needed scratched: mistreatment of cattle at a slaughter house, a professional athlete's fighting dogs, puppy-making farms gone awry or pet abandonment; that constant, itch. 

She'd always bought beef, chicken, lamb and pork at the grocery store; efficiently, pleasingly packaged and sealed, all ready to be cooked; thinking nothing of it, until one day something snapped inside her; somewhere a light-bulb went on, "THE CALAMARI!" she gasped while standing in the meat section at the market; looking down at the refrigerated packages of meat. 

Her conscious mind had finally caught up to her subconscious, like a hammer against a nail, forcing its way in. "...those packages...living and breathing creatures...I can't eat it this! It makes me sick to my stomach...." 

She became a vegan.

Cricket was a petite-framed woman; standing a defiant but diminutive 5'2". What she lacked in body size, she made up for in bravado, wit, charm, beauty and intelligence. She had the personality of a firecracker; making lots of noise; attracting lots of attention and sparkling beautifully while doing so. 

Flecks of gold shimmered off her chestnut-colored, spiraling curls sitting just past her shoulders; framing her small, button nose, large, round, brown eyes and pouty, pink lips. 

She had willowy arms and legs and her complexion was fair; and soft, like sweet cream. She had a small, sassy, round butt, a long waist and small, perky breasts. 

Men found her attractive, but she was usually disinterested; she had never met anyone that shared her passions; so she found more important things to do; things to obsess over; and saving animals was her current preoccupation.

Her obsessive compulsive disorder wasn't clinically proven, but she had all the text book symptoms of OCD: Lamenting and obsessing over a specific issue; beating it into the ground; pulverized until it bled into all other areas of her life. 

Once she decided to become a vegan, she became obsessed with trying to make everyone else around her vegan also; ranting about a calamari's intelligence and animal cruelty to anyone crossing her path; her OCD was in overdrive. 

She had good intentions; lifting a perfectly arched eyebrow in displeasure at those who weren't buying into her 'don't eat meat' campaign

"Yes. I'd like to speak with someone about volunteering." Cricket requested, speaking into the phone to a faceless someone at the Protective Animal Shelter. 

"Tonight? Yes. I think I can get over there shortly after 5:00 P.M." she said, writing the directions down onto her "Things To Do Today" pad. 

"I should ask for Ben? Okay. Thank you." Hanging up from her cell phone, Cricket then drove the short distance from work to the Protective Animal Shelter; pulling into a parking space shortly after 5:00 P.M. as she had promised and giving herself a quick look in the rear-view mirror.

The minute she walked through the doors of the animal shelter, her senses awoke. She could smell the residue of cleaning disinfectant, mixed with urine, feces and pet dander; she saw a poster hanging on the wall to her left; a sad, puppy's eyes greeted her; pleading for a home. 

She suddenly felt overwhelmed with empathy for the animals she envisioned lying in cages within the thick walls of the building. She heard the sounds of cats meowing and dogs barking in the distance. She felt sad and wondered if this was a mistake. 

"Can I really do this?" she thought to herself. 

Approaching the reception desk a voice inquired, "May I help you?" Searching for the voice, she saw a man standing in the doorway; leading to where the animals must reside. He had rough-n'-tumble good looks; standing roughly at 5'11". If she had to guess, she'd say he looked like he weighed about 175 pounds. 

His three day-old unshaven face paid tribute to his tusseled, thick, wavy dishwater-blond hair. Hazel eyes peered up at her from behind the clipboard he was holding. He wore a white lab coat, blue-jeans and a pair of sneakers. 

"Yes. I'm Cricket. I'm here to find out about volunteering." she answered moving further into the room; closer to the receptionist area where he was standing. 

"Oh. Okay, yeah. I'm Ben. Give me a minute and I'll give you a tour," his response was short, curt; to the point. 

Ben disappeared behind the door; closing it behind him. Cricket was left alone in the waiting area. She walked toward the receptionist desk, eyes skimming the brochures and pamphlets; reference materials for people interested in adopting a pet. 

The door opened and he was back. "Sorry about that." He said walking toward her, clipboard still in hand. "I'm here by myself for a couple of hours and well; sometimes things can get little hectic around here." 

"I understand." Cricket responded smiling nervously. 

"Do you have an idea of what you think you'd like to do with your volunteer time...uhhh... it's Cricket? Right?" he inquired while looking down at his clipboard, not really paying much attention to her. 

"Well, the woman on the phone mentioned dog walking and I think I could be helpful in that area." Cricket responded.

"Great! The dogs need long walks and lots of attention. It's good for their psyches." Ben stated, smiling while looking at her now. Cricket noticed the cleft in his chin when he smiled; his tone and demeanor made her feel comfortable; it felt right being there. 

"Let's go for a quick tour of the facility and start getting you somewhat acquainted." he said, moving toward the door he had appeared and disappeared through moments ago. Cricket swung her purse over her shoulder and followed him through the door, her apprehension departed.

That night she watched and listened to Ben closely as he described how the animals came to live there and that nothing would make him happier if they all found their way into good and loving homes. 

She learned that he was interning at the shelter; studying to be a veterinarian and he loved animals. Cricket's heart skipped a beat. 

Over the next few months, Cricket spent four hours a week walking, playing and spending time with the dogs at the shelter. She had gotten to know Ben a little better too and found herself looking forward to seeing him on her shift; enjoyed talking to him and oh yeah, she really loved seeing his tight ass in jeans. 

After promising to get together outside the confines of the shelter, they finally set a date; agreeing to grab a beer one night at the end of their shifts. 

Bellying up to the bar at the local pub located just around the corner from the shelter, Ben inquired, "so what cha' drinking tonight, pretty lady?" 

Cricket's eye's sparkled as she responded, "hmmm...I have a taste for the seasonal brew on tap." The bartender approached and Ben ordered two pints. 

"So Cricket, what made you decide to volunteer at the shelter?" Ben inquired. 

"Simple," she began explaining, "animal cruelty." 

"Interesting. Continue." Said Ben, gesticulating with his hands and sipping his beer.

"Well, it all started with a calamari..." Cricket started in; recounting her cathartic experience with calamari. ".... so, once I gave up eating meat, I just felt there was more I could do in the animal cruelty arena, so I chose to volunteer my time at the shelter". 

"I feel really good about giving something back to my community and helping animals. After saying that, it sounds a bit cheesy, but honestly that's the best way to describe it." She finished saying while smiling. "And I met you, too," She thought. 

Ben sat next to her; listening, completely engaged and hanging on to her every word. For the first time in a long time, Cricket felt very attracted to a man; to him. She felt she'd met a man that seemed to share some of her same core values; or obsessions. 

"What drives you?" Cricket asked. 

"Drives me crazy? Or drives me, ambition wise?" He questioned. 

"Both, I guess." She responded. 

Ben took a deep breath in, "Well, what drives me is basically where I've come from. See, I'm genetically connected to a very long line of staunch Republican, 'make a quick buck and piss on the rest of you all' types. I wanted to do something different; something that would make a difference for the collective whole, so I chose veterinary medicine." 

"Your parents must be very proud." she replied. 

"Yeah, I guess so. They like the fact that I'm going to be a doctor. I think they would have preferred I study another branch of medicine, but this is what makes me happy and I feel I can make a difference. Now that's cheesy, eh?" he said laughing.

"And what makes you crazy?" Cricket asked as if her entire body was smiling from head to toe. "Good God. He makes me crazy. Crazy, dizzy and horny!" Thoughts racing.

"Your perfume makes me crazy." He said turning to face her in his barstool; looking at her directly. His thoughts: "Your hair, your walk, the curve of your neck...you make me crazy...." 

"Are you by any chance a vegan?" Cricket inquired; feeling her panties getting wet. "I wish to hell he'd kiss me!" she thought.

"Yep. I can't eat meat. It makes me sick." he responded, touching her face and removing a piece of hair away from her eyes. "I wonder what her breasts look like? God, she's so beautiful!" Ben's thoughts raced.

They both sat on their barstools smiling at the other until Ben, driven by the desire to kiss her, leaned forward and softly brushed his lips against Cricket's. 

She closed her eyes; drinking in his kiss; his breath; him. He pulled his lips back, inches from hers; looking at her and smiled. She blushed; slightly embarrassed and looked away for a moment.

"Do you want another beer?" he inquired. 

"No. I'm good. Thanks though." she responded lifting her fingertips to her lips. 

"Want to get out of here and go someplace else?" he asked pulling his wallet from the pocket in the back pocket of his jeans. 

Cricket watched him "that ass in those jeans." she thought. "Yes." she said with anticipation. 

Cricket lived minutes away and she glanced up and into her rear-view mirror; checking for his headlights behind her. 

He parked near her and joined her on the walkway. Finding her keys in her purse, she opened the front door and they both slipped inside. She locked the door; turned around facing him and he reached for her; pulling her into his arms and kissing her lips firmly with his. 

Embracing and kissing, their bodies stumbled into her living room, hands moving over the other's body; and not paying attention, they tripped over her furniture and her green, wicker chair tipped over to its side. 

Cricket could see her couch in her periphery and her thoughts raced "make our way to the couch." She ran her hands up through Ben's hair drawing him toward her and the comfort of her overstuffed, worn, milk-chocolate colored couch. 

They both spilled onto her couch; Ben on top of Cricket; their lips still pressed together. Cricket grappled for Ben's '100% Animal Cruelty Free' PETA tee-shirt and pulled it up and over his head. 

She pulled her lips from his; gazing and touching his exposed chest; fingers traced across his well-developed pectoral muscles and trailed through the soft hair that ran over his chest and down toward his belly button; lips sucked at his nipples. 

Ben pushed his hands under her shirt; caressing her soft skin. He unhooked her bra; unleashing her small breasts. He squeezed her breasts and rubbed her nipples erect against his finger tips. 

Cricket pulled her tee-shirt over her head and wriggled out of her bra. Their bare mid-drifts embraced, rubbed and danced against the other. It felt amazing and Cricket's moan percolated from deep inside. Ben reached for her jeans with one hand and fumbled with the zipper; pushing his hand inside; feeling her silky; satin-like panties. Cricket gasped while her mouth mashed against Ben's. 

Lifting himself off her, he kneeled over her and pulled her jeans down; shifting her hips helping him. She lay on the couch in only her panties looking up at him; he hovered over her; kissing her deeply. She pulled at his jeans, misjudging the buttons on his fly, her hand felt his hard cock; restrained, like a bulldog on a chain; wanting to break free. 

He lifted himself up again; standing next to the couch and pulled his jeans off; his maroon-colored boxer shorts had fishing lures on them; his cock was erect; standing at attention; saluting Cricket. 

Ben kneeled on the floor in front of the couch; Cricket's body lay on the couch; both legs outstretched in front of her; head sat tilted against a pillow. Ben moved his hungry mouth up her legs; dipping his tongue behind her knees; nibbling at the inside of her thighs until his hot breath was at the front of her panties. 

He spread her legs and slid his fingers inside her panties; felt the softness of her pubic hair; she was slick-wet. Cricket arched her back at his touch and he pulled her panties down, over her hips, pushing them down to her knees until they reached her ankles and she kicked them off with her feet. 

She spread her legs wider for Ben as he buried his face in between her legs. "Cricket, you're so beautiful and very wet." he whispered to her as he gently moved his mouth over her pubis-mons; his breath was hot as he gently sucked her nether lips; teasing her. Cricket moaned loudly. 

Ben could see her clit; enlarged and peeking out from behind its protective hood, like a perfect, pink and budding rose; waiting to be plucked. He glided his mouth over her clit; still sucking; he flicked his tongue back and forth and around and around; felt her pulsate in time with his heart-beat. 

Cricket moved her head from side to side; panting and moaning. "Oh Ben, that feels so good!" Ben flattened his tongue and licked her clit harder; Cricket bucked her hips greedily toward his mouth. Ben pushed two of his fingers inside her swollen, wet pussy and moved them in and out; still sucking and licking her clit. "Ben. I want to feel you inside me." she said in between moans.

He stood up from his kneeling position; standing next to the couch. Cricket sat up; her hands reached for the cheeks of his ass; pulling the slit of his boxer shorts closer to her mouth; where the mushroom head of his cock was playing peek-a-boo. 

Pulling and guiding him closer, she let her tongue gently skim over the head of his cock. She opened her mouth; enveloping his head and bobbed up and down; inching down his shaft; her tongue rolled, dipped and darted against his cock. 

This time it was Ben that was moaning and thrusted his hips toward her mouth; plunging deeper. She drank him in; swallowing his hard cock; she felt her cheeks brush up against the cotton facing of his boxer shorts; fought back the tears as the head of his cock tickled the back of her throat. In. Out. In. Out. His hard cock pulsated against the tiny taste bud ridges of her eager and probing tongue.

Ben pulled his throbbing cock away from her pleasing mouth; pulling off his shorts. Cricket wanted him; wanted him inside her. She stood up; turned around; her feet were on the floor and she spread her legs; her hands held onto the back of the couch; lifting her hips up and toward Ben's stiffened cock right behind her. 

Ben moved closer; rubbing the head of his cock back and forth across her wet pussy until thrusting himself inside her pussy; gliding into the warm, wet, tight folds. 

"Oooooh, Ben!" she yelled into the back of the couch. He dug his hands into her hips and pushed himself in deeper; pulling out and then thrusting again. Still holding onto the back of the couch, she moved one of her hands down and in between her legs; massaging her clit with two of her fingers; masturbating in rhythm to Ben's thrusts inside her pussy. 

He grunted and his thrusts became harder, stronger, and faster. She massaged her fingers more fervently across her clit until she could feel her orgasm verging; teetering on the edge, "I'm going to cum!" she yelled. 

He thrust his cock as her body shook in release of the orgasm; sending waves over her. Ben felt her pulsating against his thrumming cock and he reached orgasm; cumming violently inside her. He moaned and panted hard.

He bent forward and kissed her neck; her knees collapsed and she folded onto to the couch; his cock fell out of her. She pulled her knees up to her stomach; stretched her arm over the back of the couch; resting her head. Ben sat next to her; both feet on the ground; his hands reached for her. 

"Are you hungry?" she finally asked him, grinning. 

"Yeah. I could eat." He responded. 

"Hmmm...I think I have some tofu and noodles. I could make Phad Thai," she said, getting up and putting on her clothes and looking at him knowing that may have been their first time, but it wouldn't be their last.