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Three Ages of Woman Ch. 01

By: istanbulnoir



AN EROTIC PICARESQUE

They were quite a trio. Three generations of one family: daughter, mother and grandmother. They were all three together when I met them. It was in a bar. It was unusual enough that the three of them were out on the town together, but then they were an unusual family. Well, Grandma; we're not talking wizened old hag here. This Grandmother was the right side of sixty, just. You know, and I hope you forgive the snobbery, but these underclass types, they breed young. She was 56, her daughter 37 and her grand-daughter 19. 

But that's what I like; prime rough from the wrong side of the tracks. That's why I was in this part of town for the evening. Ok, so it's probably a bit of a fetish, or a specialist interest at best, but then the usual type of relationship never works for me. I don't know why, because I love women; I mean I appreciate them as people as much as out of sexual desire, but somehow I have to separate the friendship part from the fucking. I don't know; I just haven't managed to solve the mystery of how it is that you can talk about this or that and the meaning of life five minutes after your dick was up there shafting away at her arse. That's why for me it has always been pick ups in low rent bars, and swinging clubs, and the odd whore when pickings were lean.

This little trio seemed to offer something of all three of those: the anonymity and transient frisson of a bar room pick up, the possibilities of a swinging set up (and some), and it's got to be said, cos there's no getting away from it, they looked like a little gang of street whores. At least, that's what I thought when I was standing at the bar ordering myself a drink and Mum came up next to me to order theirs. I could feel her next to me before I saw her. It's the way the air seems to get heavier when the kind of woman who makes the old chap perk into life is suddenly close by. It's a kind of sixth sense, with me at least.

Following my dick's lead, I looked around and there she was. Peroxide blonde and dark roots, sharp brown eyes, and a good aquiline nose that added an air of refinement that was entirely unwarranted. Ordering her drinks, she was all gravelly cockney and dropped aitches and glottal stops. I was hooked before she even gave me a look and the ghost of a smile. And what a look it was. I felt like she had looked right inside me and had a good butcher's at my cock too and said to herself 'that's a bit of prime pork that'll do me.'

So, game on, I thought, and she had barely sat down before daughter and Grandma were having a look over and all three together going straight into come and get me overdrive immediately. I stayed at the bar initially, looking back; not hiding it, and not playing hard to get, but finding my angle. I'm as obvious as the next man when it comes to sex fantasies and the first picture that went by my mind was all three of them together, pussies fresh and pussies well used and wrinkled around the edges, tits firm and tits that hang and painted faces and pouting red lips everywhere, and the whiff of cheap perfumes with names like Midnight Seduction hanging in the air around our writhing bodies.

As it would turn out, I did have all three of them together; though the way it all unfolded turned out to be a lot more complicated than I could have imagined standing there expectantly at the bar; but then again it was a lot more interesting too.

I never did find my angle, there were just too many permutations, but the moment came when I had to move before the moment past, so I went and sat at the table next to them. I would just have to see how it all was with them and what ideas they had. A lot of men, no doubt, would have gone for Daughter, regardless of their own age. They probably would not even have noticed Mum's charms, and for such a man, Grandma was well past her sell-by date. I never got that. Why narrow the field? Why close off possibilities? Every woman has something to offer; something that only she has. It might be a certain look, the curve of her back when she lies on the bed in a certain way; it might be the muscle control she has in her loins, so that screwing her you feel like her pussy is sucking you off, or a very particular way of flicking her tongue over your shaft, or maybe something in her voice or the way she holds her cigarette. Fat, thin, old, young, in the middle, every woman in the world, for every man, if only he knew it, is worth having a piece of.

They knew I was coming; they had known since the moment they all looked over, and I was drawn into their triangle round their table before we had exchanged more than a couple of sentences. 

'Alright, luv!' said Mum, 'I ain't sin you dahn 'ere before.'

'No,' I said, 'I've never been here before.'

Then Daughter piped up 'you talk a bit posh, dunt ya?' and laughed.

'Not from rand 'ere, are ya?'

'No;' I said.

'E's come dahn 'ere to get close ta the peepal, ain't he?' said Grandma, with an arch look, though there was warmth in it.

We chatted away without learning much more about each other, and as we chatted I was trying to weigh them up; and getting a better look too at their physical charms. While I was at that, they were trying to size me up. I guessed they were wondering which of them I would go for, but I was discreet enough to keep them guessing. Truth was I didn't know myself yet. Mum was the obvious choice; she was the closest to me in age, 37 to my 31, and she certainly looked like a lady of expertise. Sitting there opposite her I could admire her cleavage; which was what she wanted me to do, and the half of a tattoo that was exposed above the low neckline of her top on her left breast. I was casting my eye over the material of her top as it stretched over her knockers and trying to see if there was the shape of any nipple piercings on their peaks. She was the kind of woman I thought who would have a few intimate piercings and more tats too. She would enjoy being asked about her tats and tell you with relish where they were and when she had had them done.

Daughter was sitting to my right and she wasn't a bad looking young bird, in that council estate way. She said that she worked in a cafe as a waitress and Grandma seemed quite proud of that. Mum was non-committal on the point of the prestige of her daughter's employment. She was quite tall and thin; almost painfully so, with her hair ripped back making for a classic Romford facelift and she smoked incessantly. She was warm-hearted though, and fairly pretty and only the fussiest of men would have kicked her out of bed. And as I said before, I reckon the majority of blokes would have gone for her, just because she was the youngest. 

But to tell you the truth, even though Mum was past her prime, even at only 37, she was hotter than her daughter, and you could see when you looked at her that she would have been something really special when she was Daughter's age. She would have had the tattoos already by then, and she smoked her fags with the same eager intensity as her daughter, as her nicotine stained teeth attested. But that got me going too; I've always had a thing for women smoking, and I don't mean elegant long cigarettes and cocktails and all that, either. She would have been a London cabbie's wet dream, and she was still close to it now. I'd be sure that a few cabbies had done that dream in the back of their cabs with her back then, maybe for the price of the ride home. Me; I would have climbed over a lot of more refined looking women to get to her, and not only because you just knew that she would know how to do things with her tongue and her pussy that they had never even dreamed of.

And what about Grandma? Well, let's say she certainly still had the right to think that she could draw a good few men, including some a good deal younger than herself; at least the younger ones who had the imagination and the balls for the adventure. I knew I did.

They had all begun from the belief that they all had a chance, things to my making sure that I was not giving too much attention to one of them and neglecting the other two. It was Grandma's turn. I told her I liked her dress, thinking I might need to start with a little flirtation, just to let her know she was still in the running. She smiled, but a little cautiously. Once we got chatting, with the other two putting in this and that in the pauses, I saw that she was the reticent one; she just gave a little less in conversation, but she noticed I was sure a good deal more. That was her age. And the more I directed my attention at her and the longer we chatted, the more attractive to me she became. It was when I was talking to her that my cock hardened; enough for it to be noticeable to anyone who looked, and Mum was looking and a quick glance at her showed that she had noticed and that she did not like it.

There was competition, and perhaps worse things than that, between them. It was the first thing that I saw that told me that there was more about these three generations of ladies than meets the eye. They were not quite the happy family of good time girls down the pub for a Saturday night out that you would take them for when you first saw them.

Grandma was the quintessential glamorous granny of lore; the classic old mutton dressed as lamb. The dress that I had complimented her on was a mini-dress, and it was...wait for it...leopard skin. I really hadn't believed that any women, and especially any of her age, really wore those outside of sitcoms; but there she was; life imitating low art. She was shapely and only slightly fleshy, with a bit of a roll or two of stomach. The tits had no doubt been majestic in her salad days; big and round and shapely, and her plunging neckline revealed a tremendous cleavage. No doubt though, the bra she wore had its work cut out to keep those knockers up and perky, and you knew that the moment that bra came off they were going to tumble down heavily and reacquaint themselves with their sisters, the rolls of flesh on her stomach. She had peroxide blonde hair with hints of grey at the roots. It was long and tied back tightly. She had good cheekbones and nice big brown eyes and full, pouting and painted lips, red as a post box. Her make up; well, you have to slap it on at her age, but she had the balls to pull it off. I imagined that she probably had a couple of tattoos, though fewer than her daughter. Her accent was thickest cockney, just like her daughter's, and her shot at sophistication was a cigarette holder, which she held with some poise between her long and heavily manicured fingers. Last, but not least, she had great long talons for fingernails and I couldn't help but imagine the delights of those wicked looking claws grazing up and down the length of my tool.

'Ya gonna buy us a drink then, darlin?' she asked.

I had my orders and off I went to the bar.

When I returned with the drinks, Mum had moved her seat a few inches closer to mine and as soon as I sat down she engaged me in conversation. There was something conspiratorial in her tone, and as we chatted she grew more direct until she got to the openly suggestive. Then, after five minutes or so, I noticed that her fingers were brushing the side of my leg. If my hard on had retreated when I had got up to go to the bar, it was back with a vengeance now, and didn't she know it.

If they had been working as a team at the start, it was every woman for herself now, and it was Mum who had been bold and it looked like it was going to be Mum whose delights I was going to sample that night. All three together was too much of a cliché and too much of a long shot too. And I had been hedging my bets. I hadn't wanted to go too overtly for any one of them, because I did not want to ruin my chances with the other two. I guess all along I was only going to get one of them on the first night, but the tactic I had chosen meant that the decision was going to be made for me. And so it had. Mum had gone for it. It made sense. We were the coupling closest in age and to me she was one hot piece of cunt. I just knew, when she moved in on me, that fucking her was going to be close to the top of the list of best evers when I was old and limp and only had my memories left. And If I'm honest, I would have to say that if I had been offered all three, one at a time that night, I would have gone for Mum first, Grandma second and Daughter third. That's just me; young meat is sweet, but I always liked my steaks well done, and even a bit leathery round the edges can be very tasty when you are in the right mood. I guess you could say I was having mine medium tonight, as Mum was the middle one, but I will say medium rare, because even though she didn't look a young 37, she was going to be a rare good fuck. As we talked and she smiled and laughed and looked into my eyes, I was already anticipating a long night of love that was going to include deep throating, facials, anal action and maybe even some kinkier stuff. But I kept that to myself for now.

It was clear now that Mum had won the evening and Grandma, whose seduction had been lower key, though would definitely have succeeded on any other evening, sat back and left the way open. There was just one moment when a hint of displeasure showed. She looked over to her granddaughter, as if to say, why didn't you stake your claim. Grand daughter shrugged with her eyes. I don't think I was supposed to have noticed that little exchange, but if you play my games, you have to be observant. I understood now though, why Grandma had kept on steering conversation towards her grand daughter and tried to bring her into the conversation herself too, despite the fact that Grandma was keen to be desired herself. So I began to wonder, if Grandma was seducing me, had it been on her own behalf or had she been trying to line me up for her grand daughter?

Had things gone that way, it would have got very complicated. I would have wanted a taste of Grandma's rougher and tougher, older meat, but to oblige I would have prudently gone for the veal, and enjoyed it too, but at the same time a drop of the Beaujolais nouveau could never be more than a perky little prelude to the more refined 1950 vintage. Refined! Truth to tell these fine examples of feminine sink estate trash were more cheap vodka and Red Bull than fine wine, but that's the way I luv 'em; and when it comes to intoxication, cheap vodka gets you there just as fine wines do, and I can tell you from experience that you need to drink a lot of Red Bull to raise the necessary energy to give those three sex machines what they need. 

As the landlord called time, Grandma invited Grand daughter to stay with her for the night, clearing the way for me and Mum.

We were barely inside the front door before she was one her knees with my knob in her mouth, treating me to a cock sucking that can only be described as electrifying. Man, I thought that filthy slut had plugged my dick into the mains, but it was really just her mouth and her lips and her tongue that was sending those pulses through me.

I had been right about the tattoos. We lay on her bed afterwards and she was stretched out like Cleopatra herself, smoking contentedly, and glowing with post-coital calm and in the knowledge that I was quietly admiring her naked body. There must have been a good ten tattoos on her; tit, arms, back, bum, her leg, and one above her pussy. And there were a few piercings too, as I had hoped; her left nipple and one in each of her pussy lips. They had come in handy when I had eaten her.

And there was no use in my trying to hide my desire for her. We had only finished ten minutes before, but my cock was standing to attention again, just from my looking her over. She laughed and said 

'Ya like me then!'

I just smiled and said 'he does!'

'Well, that's wot counts, ain't it?'

When she said that, she didn't laugh.

'Wot d'ya do?' she asked, after a pause.

I told her and she said 'nice. I bet ya get good money doin' that, and I bet ya got yer own 'ouse.'

'I have,' I said.

'Nice. That'd be nice.'

'What about you? What do you do?' I asked her.

'Nuffin,' she said, 'eat, sleep, watch the telly, drink, fuck...'

'What do you do for money then?'

'Dole, me mum helps out a bit sometimes, when she can.'

'What did you do before, then?'

'Never really 'ad a proper job. This 'n' that.'

'Are you married?'

'Nope.'

'Divorced?'

'Nope. What's the point? Men; they never stick around. I just take what I can while it's there to take. Usually, it's gone tomorra.'

'Got a boyfriend?'

'Looks like I have now!'

'Yes!' I replied.

'I'll believe it when I see it,' she said.

There was nothing to say to that, so I said nothing.

After a silence; a comfortable one during which I went on admiring her beautiful but worn body; while she continued to tease my erect cock with her foot, she said

'Can I ask you summat?'

'Yes, of course,' I said.

'Be honest.'

'I will.'

'Last night, which one of us were you after?'

'Well, I saw you first, because you saw me first:'

'Yeah, but when you came over. I mean, I made the move on you at the bar, and you came, but then you talked to all of us. If you had been after me from the start, you'd 've talked to me, wouldn't ya?'

She was far too canny to buy any line, so I had to tell her part of the truth.

'Well, to be honest, I wasn't sure. I mean, I thought you were the one for me, but I wanted to see how the land lay with you.'

'You mean me daughter?'

'Well, yes, maybe.'

'She's pretty, ain't she?'

'She is, but you're more my type,' I said.

'Yeah, right!' she said.

'I'm serious,' I said, 'and I'm closest to you in age. Young girls are pretty and all, but not really my thing. I like experience.'

'And you reckon I'm experienced!'

'I reckon you are!'

Then her face lit up in revelation.

'Ya not tellin' me you'd 'a dun me mum, are ya? Christ almighty. She's a bleedin' granny.'

There was that in her voice that told me that I had better say no, so I said 'no.' 

I couldn't be sure that she believed me.

'Men,' she said, 'fuck anything, even a wrinkly old slag like 'er.'

I must have looked shocked, because she said

'I shouldn't have said that. She is me mum, after all.'

I would have liked to hear more, but though better of asking.

She asked me more about myself and I told her and then I asked her about herself.

'If you stick around a bit, I'll tell ya more, but I only just met ya.'

'We just did just about everything a man and a woman can do together last night and this morning.'

She laughed. 'Well, that's sex, that's fun. Nah, telling ya stuff about meself. That's private, innit? I don't know ya enuf yet, do I?

I left it at that: a lesson in modern morality.

'Anyway,' she said, 'why d' ya come dahn 'ere?'

'Change of scenery,' I said.

'Yeah!' she said, you must fink I was born yesterdee!'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, you ain't the first posh bloke who's come over here on the prowl. I know.'

'I'm posh, am I?'

You are 'round 'ere.'

'Maybe,' I said, 'but I'm not a snob.'

She raised her eyebrows and said

'Well, you can't afford to be, can ya, knowing what you like.'

'You're very direct, aren't you,' I told her.

'Call a spade a spade, I say. I know what I am, and I ain't ashamed of it, and if some posh bloke like you likes it, it can't be all bad, can it, eh?'

I suppose not,' I said, 'but I don't think you need posh blokes to make you feel good about yourself. I think you are far too tough to need that.'

'I reckon I am,' she said, 'but I'd rarva get it for a gentleman than the usual scumbags.'

'I'm a gentleman too now then,' I said, laughing.

'You made sure I 'ad a good time too, didn't ya?'

'I thought you would be worth it.'

'And was I?'

'You certainly were.'


Three Ages of Woman Ch. 02



AN EROTIC PICARESQUE

The thing to do was to see her again as soon as possible. We had agreed to meet the next evening, but I would call her and switch it to today. That way, we could have sex, sex, sex all night and I would keep the conversation light and slow the train down a bit. It wasn't that I did not want to ride that train all the way, but I was not ready for it to go full speed ahead yet. We had connected, but I was not ready to say to myself 'yep, she's my woman and no other', though I could already almost see that station coming up when I looked out of the window. Most of all, I didn't need the complication of another woman on the scene and in my bed, until I had figured out what I wanted from this scene, and figured out what I owed her now, already. 

As long as temptation did not put itself in my way, I would be fine. The thing is, though, temptation did come my way.

I will call her, I said to myself, as I finished lunch, and just as I was stepping across to the phone in the hallway, the phone rang. It'll be her, I thought. Maybe she has got the same idea, and wants to see me tonight.

But it was not Mum; it was Daughter. 

'Hi,' she said.

I didn't recognize her voice until she told me who she was, and my scrabbling about gave her the advantage.

'Fancy goin' out tonight?'

'What with you all?' I asked.

'No, with me.'

'Well...'

'Oh come on,' she said, 'I don't bite. And I know you ain't seeing me mum, cos she told me.'

'Does she know you're calling me?'

'Course not, but I found your number on a bit a paper on the kitchen table.'

'Wait a minute...'

'Can't. Gotta run. Meet me in the Dog and Duck at 8.'

More like dog and shit, I thought.

What did she want? I told myself that I needed to go and meet her to find out what she was up to. But whatever happened, I wasn't going to do her. It was all going to get way too complicated. Anyway, she had been the one I had fancied the least that first night. Now, had it been Grandma cooing sweetly down the phone to me, I would have been about to have a harder time resisting. That was the theory, at least.

I got there first. It was different pub from where I had met them, and quite a way from their neighbourhood, and that suggested clandestine intentions. Her appearance confirmed them. She strolled in dressed up to the nines, or maybe undressed to them, given the lowness of the cut of her top and the shortness of her skirt. She had slapped the war paint on with a trowel too, and in doing so raised herself from a mediocre six to a fine eight and a half. Mum, though, was always going to be a ten, even if a less than perfect one. Grandma, I will go nine and a half for now. No matter that she scrubbed up well though; and she had youth on her side too, she just she didn't have what they had. But then again, maybe it was precisely because she was young and the years had yet to have their chance to give her that certain je ne sais qua. Or maybe it was just me and my leftfield tastes and my liking for my meat well done and a bit on the tough and street-soiled side.

I got her a vodka and Redbull and she necked it in one, so I got her another. Dutch courage or already a seasoned slapper? Bit of both was my sense of the thing. We did small talk and she must have downed six and seven before she said 

'We can't talk 'ere. Let's go to Gran's. She's gone round to see Mum and she always comes back late. Really late. They drink and argue. They don't get on.'

So it was crunch time. All the while I had been chatting with her and watching her down those potent drinks like they were water, she had been working her charm on me, and I was as intoxicated with her as she must have been with the vodka.

'All right then,' I said, telling myself that I had to go, otherwise I would have no chance of finding out what this unholy little coven were cooking up in the way of spells and mischief. 

'So there is something you want to talk about?' I said, as the taxi sped towards Grandma's house and possibly my doom.

Then something occurred to me.

'If your Mum and your Gran don't get on, why does your Gran want to visit and spend the evening drinking with her?

'I said drink and argue. Gran must have something on her mind that she wants to talk to Mum about. You, maybe.' She giggled, but she still didn't seem all that drunk.

I had already been thinking that. Now, this was one occasion when I was very happy not to be a fly on the wall. But that didn't matter in the end anyway, because I heard all about it from Mum the next day. She was livid. If she had known what I had been up to while Grandma was giving her such a hard time; no question, she would have killed me.

Anyway, we got to Gran's and straight away Daughter starting taking on more fuel. There was more vodka and Redbull in that house than food.

I had sat down on the sofa and when she came back with drinks, she next to me. She looked at me for a moment like she was about to do something naughty and then she said

'Ya like me mum then?'

'Yes,' I said, 'she's a nice woman. She's got character.'

'Is that what ya call it?'

'She's tough, and I think she's had a tough life.'

'Yeah,' she sneered, 'not as tough as the life she has given the rest of us.'

I could have got the whole story out of her. I realised now that she was, despite appearances, well drunk, but still lucid and coherent. Somehow though, I didn't want to know; not then anyway, and not from her. Whatever she was, or whatever she might have been, I liked her mum, and I had decided that whatever appearances might suggest, she was decent, and what I valued even more; she was intelligent, and worth getting to know, and even worth having a real relationship with, and taking away from all this. Not only could she have had more, I had already half way decided that she deserved it, just for being intelligent and decent.

What she didn't deserve was what happened for the next hour or so. All those thoughts had gone through my mind in a few seconds and more followed; but as I was thinking to myself, and I was just about to tell her: your mum may well be all the things you think she is, but I know she wouldn't do to you what I know you are planning to do to her now... 

Before I had finished the thought, I realised through my growing anger and the vodka haze that something was going on with my dick and I looked down and he was poking out of my trousers and her fingers were rolling my foreskin up and down over my helmet.

She was grinning all over her face; a grin of triumph, but she had not quite gained the victory yet. But then she said something, and although she could not have known the effect it would have; or that it needed saying if I was going to have her as she wanted.

'I'm better than her. I'm younger, and I'm not a slut.' 

I didn't say anything, but the anger and the vodka and finally that ugly statement decided it. I'm going to fuck you, you little whore, and I'm going to give it to you just like I would give to a real whore; but only the once. And you are going to like it, but you are only getting once what your mum can have whenever she wants it; and given with affection too.

So I did. I fucked her rough and hard, and of course she loved every second of it. It worked like a dream and I enjoyed her too. For a kid of nineteen, she certainly didn't hold anything back; this young lady had all the arts of a bordello whore twice her age.

Afterwards we smoked and she said

'See, fresh meat is sweeter.'

Sweet indeed, but not always sweeter, and sometimes really very sour. It is not nice to compare one woman with another, and especially when they are mother and daughter, but when you have had Mum for breakfast and Daughter for dinner, you can't help yourself. I looked for resemblances, physical of course, but also in the ways they both moved, and what they liked. She was definitely an on top kind of girl, whereas Mum screeched loudest when she got it doggie. And where Mum clearly adored it by the back door, daughter hadn't been so taken with it, but she had let me do it. Usually, I don't force the issue where anal sex is concerned. If a lady wants it she gets it, but if she doesn't ask or offer, I don't press her, but this little skank; I had just rolled her over and rammed my knob all the way up the back passage and right into the living room.

But then, who am I trying to kid? She hadn't exactly had to work hard to snare me, had she? 

I woke up the next morning feeling as much of a shit as I deserved to, and wondering what next? My sixth sense was telling me two things: number one that she was not going to want her Mum to know; not yet anyway, and number two, she had something on me and she was going to make use of it. But I still didn't know what really was what with the three of them, and I had crossed the Rubicon now; which seems an appropriate metaphor in the circumstances, given how Roman it had all become; from a moral point of view, I mean.

A hundred thoughts spun about my mind, but I could not spin any of them into anything other than Daughter was a nasty little shit and I was about the same. And I had to believe that she was not going to tell her Mum yet and I saw that I needed to talk to them both; Daughter first.

I also needed to count five, take deep breaths, get a hold of myself and start thinking rationally. If she was going to tell Mum, she would have done it last night, while the vodka had still had her in its clutches; and if she had, I would have heard from Mum by now.  The rest was speculation until I could talk to Daughter.

But wait a moment. Why did I care so much? I had fucked one sexy young girl 12 years my junior and spent two nights with a depraved sex machine who had taken me places I had never been before. It was Christmas, my birthday, and the summer holidays all rolled into one. Or it would have been if they had not stopped being nice, simple sexual fantasies come true, and become not only real women, but people with lives and feelings; and it was all much more complicated than I wanted it to be, but it was too late to do much about that now. And just in case you are thinking that I was turning into the gentleman that Mum mistook me for, the other reason I wanted to stick around and be in the next episode was because having gone this far, I was going to try my damnedest to complete the set. I had to fuck Grandma too now. 

I picked up the phone and dialled, and I had to make sure I didn't mistake their voices. If Mum answered I would say I had called to ask if I could come over earlier, as I had taken the afternoon off work. It was still early and Daughter wouldn't have gone to work yet, and if she answered, I would tell her I had to talk to her.

It was Daughter. She agreed to meet me at lunchtime and she suggested the park. We could talk there. 

'We need to be straight with each other.'

'Yep,' she said.

'What happened last night shouldn't have. I like your mum and I think she likes me.

'She does.'

'Do you like your mum?'

'Course I do! She's me mum.'

'So why did you do it?'

'Why did you?'

'Don't play games,' I said.

'I fancy ya,' she said.

'For Christ's sake. You must know that I have been to bed with your mother, and you still wanted to have me.'

'That's why I wanted ya to 'ave me.'

'You're some family, aren't you? Your mum doesn't have a good word to say about your Gran, and you want to screw your mum's man behind her back.'

'We are some family. Ya wouldn't believe me if I told ya.'

'Try me.'

'I'm not telling ya all of it; they're the family secrets, dirty little secrets.'

'Ok, fair enough, but if I'm going to be with your mum...'

It was only when it came out like that, that I realised that that was what I wanted and why this was all so complicated. Well, I wanted that, but I want t be fucking the other too as well.

'Ya really serious about 'er?'

Yes, I think I am, as much as I can be so soon.'

'That's different, then,' she said and looked thoughtful. 'Different from what I fawt, and different from the usual blokes she picks up.'

'I see,' I said.

'Look,' she said, lighting herself a cigarette, 'Saturdee night, it was Gran who notice ya walk in, and she gave me the nod, but Mum saw her and then she moved in. She does that a lot. She said 'ee's my age, not yours, or yours, and I'm 'aving first go.' And off she went. Gran had you in mind for me. She's like that. She wants me to have a better life.'

'And what do you want?' I asked her.

'I'm 'appy as I am. I got a job and I like it, and there's a lad who works in the garage over the road from the caff and I like him, but Gran thinks none of it's good enuf for me. So you walk in and Gran thinks she might be able to guide you my way. And maybe she was right, I mean you're weren't difficult, were ya? And after you'd had Mum too.'

'Yes,' I said 'and she must not find out about that.'

'She won't. I ain't gonna tell 'er and I don't suppose you are either.'

'So why did you do it? Why did you invite me out last night?'

'Why did you come?'

'Touche.' 

'Sorry,' she said, 'Listen, Gran had her eye on you for me. She thinks I can snare some rich bloke, get married, live in a big 'ouse, all that, but I'm not into that. Mum was once, I think. And I'll tell you something else too; Gran fancied you an' all. I can tell wiv 'er. She's a right ole goer when she gets a chance, but she's picky. All them local old blokes in the pub'd give their left ball..., but she ain't havin' none of it. She ain't that old, ya know, but she ain't getting much of it. She finks she can still get 'em the way she did when she was younger, like Mum does. But she can't. Poor old cow ain't bin fucked for months I reckon; years maybe. She's too fussy. She's a bit old fashioned an' all...'

I couldn't help laughing when she said that.

'I know,' she went on and laughed herself; 'she looks like a cross between Lady Muck and an old brass, but she's bin fru a lot So's Mum, so have I.'

I liked her by now. She was a different person from the sneering little cow of last night.

'You like her, don't you?'

'What, Gran?'

'Yeah, I love her. She was the one who raised me, ya know.'

'What about your Mum?'

'She's me Mum. I love her, course I do.'

'So why did you do it, last night?'

'I dunno. Gran had put the idea in me 'ead that evening and when mum nicked ya I was pissed off. The way you 'andled yourself, chatting away to all of us, not lettin' on who you liked, and you were really nice to Gran too and I thought well, if he goes for me I ain't gonna go along with Gran's daft scheme and try to snare ya into being me fairy godfather or sumfin, and if he don't go for me, then Gran can 'ave him, cos the way you were wiv 'er, I really fawt ya might.'

I didn't say anything.

Would ya 'ave?'

I still didn't say anything.

'Come on, I ain't gonna tell, am I?' 

'Ok, put it this way; I've always had a thing for older women, and especially ones who look like a cross between Lady Muck and an old brass.'

She screeched with laughter.

'I'll set ya up, if ya like.'

I was sure she would have too.

'Much as I'd like to, I think you had better not. This is all complicated enough.' 

'Yeah,' she said, 'poor old Gran. 'Er ole whatnot'll dry up from lacka use before long.'

'Listen,' I said, 'I will be round to visit your mum tonight. Will you be there?'

'Not if you're comin' raund. I'll get packed off to Gran's.' Last night's sneer ghosted across her face again. 'Still, at least she only has her men round now when I'm not at home.'

'Are you going to start being mean about her again?'

'No,' she said.

'Look, there's nothing you could tell me about her past that can put me off. I will get to know her and make up my own mind.'

'I 'ope yer broadminded then.'

'I am broadminded.'

'Well, like I said; it was Gran who raised me; mostly. Mum was young when I was born and I don't even know me Dad. Some boyfriend was what they told me. If he was anyfin like all the uvvers, 'e was probably only around for a couple a days. Wiv 'er, a week's a long term relationship. So I stayed wiv Gran, but then when I was fifteen or so I fawt I was all grown up, so I insisted on going to stay at Mum's. That lasted a couple a monfs, and she'd come 'ome and I'd pretend to be asleep and I'd 'ear her wiv 'er men, at it all night long.  And then one night I really had fallen asleep and I was ill, and I woke up and I went to ask her to get me medicine. I walked in 'er bedroom and she had free blokes wiv her. Free of 'em!'

She paused.

'So I went back to Gran's. There was an almighty row the next day and Gran was callin' Mum a slag an' an 'ore, and I remember Mum saying to Gran, 'whatever I am, you made me like it,' and Gran went berserk and started 'ittin Mum. I dunno what Mum meant when she said that, but it must have been somefin really bad for Gran to react like that. I know there's stuff between 'em that I don't know about, and they won't tell me. So anyway, maybe last night was revenge; but I do fancy ya too, so don't get insulted!'

I was staggered, but before I could say anything she was cracking another joke.

'Mum must 'ave 'ad all one in each 'ole. Dirty cow, nice though!'

'How can you make jokes about such things?' I asked her.

'Better 'an cryin' about 'em, ain't it?'

'Yes, I suppose it is,' was all I could think of to say.

'Mum is wot she is. She's wild and she don't care. Ya know, if she was someone else's mum, I'd fink she was really cool and admire her.

'You're tough, like her,' I said.

'If I am, it's cos I had to be.'

'I know.'

'Are you really serious about Mum?'

'I could be, if things keep going well.'

'It'd be good for 'er to 'ave a steady bloke, instead of the usual losers and scumbags she attracts.'

'Which is why,' I said, 'she must not find out about last night.'

'She won't,' she said, 'not from me, anyway.' That was all right then, but she looked a bit uncomfortable as she said it. I put that down to guilt at what we had done.

'Good,' I said.

'Does that mean I won't be gettin' any more of your nice big cock in me?' she giggled.

'Not if you want things to work out with me and your mother,' I said.

'Not even on the sly?'

'Don't tempt me, you little minx;' I told her. I could not help but admire her cheek.

'What about Gran?' she said, all butter wouldn't melt.

'You're impossible.'

'It'd do 'er good. If she 'ad a nice dickin' every now 'n' then, she'd be less narky. I'd get some peace. She'd stop tryin' to set me up with the blokes she fancies fuckin' 'erself!' 

She could switch gear without even breaking speed from tales of her mother's goings on and what they did to her, to telling me that it would be good for her mother if I was going to stick around, to asking me if I was still going to give it to her, and if not her, then maybe her Granny.

How, after all that could I even contemplate going after Grandma, but I was, and I had her too, as I said before; but not because I pursued her. I didn't. But have her I did nonetheless, and it all amounts to the same thing in the end; I was thinking seriously about a relationship with Mum and within a week of meeting her, I had fucked her daughter and her mother too. 

I had always thought that the Jerry Springer Show was all fiction and the people on it were really all actors and the scenarios all made up, but here I was; the main protagonist in the Olympic Champion of Jerry Springer Show scenarios. And I had also learned that these kinds of people really do exist and live these kinds of lives; and even more disturbingly, I have learned that they actually were people. I had never known that my fetish for underclass, chav, white trash pussy could lead me into such complicated worlds or turn into an anthropological education. But then again, when it comes down to 'how'd you like your pussy?', none of us men has much control over the matter, and none of us cares that much what dangers and embarrassments and humiliations we have to face to get it.




Three Ages of Woman Ch. 03



AN EROTIC PICARESQUE

A couple of days later I was with Mum and we were getting down to it and her delicious dirty mouth was getting to work on my cock, when she suddenly stopped gobbling me off and got hold of my balls and pulled them and dug her nails in. Yeeouch...she was not just playing around...it fucking hurt!

'What are you doing that for?' I screamed.

'I'm gonna ask you a question and you are gonna answer me. I want the trewf!'

Whatever it was going to take to avoid castration without anaesthetic, I would do it; except tell the truth.

'Let go, you crazy bitch!' I roared at her.

She didn't, but she released her grip a little.

''Ave you fucked me daughter?'

'What!' I said, amazed; 'no, of course I haven't.

She let go and said, 'I don't believe yer, but that I can live with; but not me mum. If you've fucked that old 'ore I really will rip yer bollocks off. And yer cock. And I'll feed them to the fuckin' dogs.' Her voice was cracking and then she broke down. 

I sat stunned. How did she know? What did she know? Or was she just fishing? Silence was my best defence until I knew more. I stayed silent.

She lit herself a cigarette and went and sat on the sofa. Her legs were apart and her pussy looked deliciously inviting, even then. She saw me looking and closed them and said, 'there's none of that fer you until yer tell me.'

'Of course I haven't,' I lied.

She didn't believe me.

We sat and silence and I tried to think clearly. Then I thought of something.

'It's strange what you said. Most women would rip a man's balls off if he cheated on her with her daughter or her mother, or any other woman for that matter. What's the difference?'

'There is a difference,' she said; 'for us, anyway.'

I had pressed the right button.

I remembered what Daughter had said; family secrets, dirty little secrets. I was about to be told; I could feel it, and it was going to be big, not little.

Between sobs she blurted it all out. I had been right. She had had a chance when she had been young. She had a boyfriend. He had been from a different part of town. He had money and he was going to college and he wanted to take her with him. She would get a job in the city where he went to college. They would get married and live happily ever after. They had been together for nearly two years and it was a month before he would leave for college and she would go with him. One afternoon she came home early and found him sitting on the sofa. He was naked. Her mum was on top of him and his cock was right up her pussy. They were fucking. She later found out they had been doing it for a few months by then. She ran from the house, and as far as she was concerned her life was fucked. No more boyfriend and no escape. And all thanks to her own mother.

She told me everything; how she got a job working in a bar in town and before long she was one of the strippers and not long after that she was a prostitute. Stripping and selling herself had been her living. She did a bit when she needed to. And she still blamed her mother for ruining her life and neither of them had got past it. It was the answer to all of the questions. 

I didn't mind any of it; the stripping, the whoring, and it all fitted. She was the real thing; she didn't just look like a whore; she really was one. It turned me on. I wanted her even more and my prick got rock hard again. She was amazed. We were still sitting there naked and she was telling me the horror story of her life and all I could do was get an even bigger hard on than usual. She seemed to be full of joy and full of anger and full of sadness all at the same time. I reached for her and held her to me, and we had sex again, but it was less wanton and more tender this time. I liked it, but I hoped we were not going to lose the wildness. I needn't have worried.

All I said afterwards was that they needed to get everything sorted out between them. She said I was right and that she would talk to her mum. They had never discussed what had happened, just sniped at each other for years; so that underneath the happy family exterior, it was all resentment and spite and hatred.

After that, I didn't see her for about a week. She said she would call me after she had talked to her mum about everything. Then the call came, and she seemed happy and she invited me over for Saturday night.

I knew something was going on even early on that evening. Mum and I had dinner and champagne, which she had asked me to bring; she was developing expensive tastes, and usually, once the meal was over, she would be on me like a wild animal. But that night, she just seemed to want to sit around chatting and smoking and drinking up the champagne and then move on to her vodka and Redbull. She just kept saying that nice things were worth waiting for. She had that characteristic twinkle in her eye so I knew she had something lined up. But I couldn't guess what it was going to be.

At about ten, there was the sound of a key in the door. It could only be Daughter and Grandma, or the pair of them together. It was the pair of them. I knew even before they got into the living room from their squawking that they were both there. I could hear what thye were saying.

'Gran, you reckon they've already started. We might walk in and find 'er suckin' 'is knob!'

'Better not. I told 'er to wait for the cavalry to arrive.'

Well, the cavalry's 'ere now, and I'm the general.'

'Hi!' I said, as they came in to the living room. Then I turned to Mum and asked 'what are they doing here? You mean ... no fun tonight?'

Grandma heard me and said

'Nah darlin' ... more fun than you' ever 'ad before in yer life. All free of us, all night long and all day tomorra an' all!'

'What!' I said, amazed. I was pleased too, but tried not to let that show too much.

'You've 'elped us to solve our troubles and tonight we're celebrating our new 'appy family. And we're givin' you a reward too; the kind of we know 'ow to give best.' 

Now, there are times when the word 'surreal seems adequate. I looked at Mum.

'You're a man. You've already fucked the pair of 'em behind me back. You'll do it again. An' better ya do it wiv me own flesh and blood than some uvva ole 'ore you picked up somewhere.

'But, I won't pick anyone up,' I protested.

'Ya picked me up, and I'm a dirty 'ore. It's what ya like. And I'm gonna be yer only dirty old 'ore, but I'm gonna share ya wiv these two every now an' then, so that I'll at least know where an' when ya getting' yer extra cunny. Whenever I fink you're looking like yer might stray, I'll bring these two round and you'll be so fucked by the time we've done with yer, yer won't 'ave to energy for poking any uvva ole slappers!'

Grandma grinned at her. Peace had been made and everything was falling into place, and as I glanced across at Mum, who smiled at me, and felt daughters young lips slubbering over my knob, and watched Grandma put on the cunt show of the century, I thought of all of the places my cock was going to investigate that night. Three mouths, three cunts and three arseholes, and I was going to fuck them all together.

I suppose it was inevitable really; so there I was contemplating the fact that what I fantasized that very first night was about to happen. I was about to have all three of them together. A lot of the bad blood between them had been let; as it should have been a long time ago. And I thought to myself that I deserved some credit for that. Ok, so I was the one who couldn't resist sticking his dick in all of them, but well, problems need to be brought to a head before solutions can be found for them, and I flatter myself that my diplomatic skills, not to mention my penchant for self-preservation, helped quite a lot with that.

That said, I could not but be amazed at Mum's capacity for forgiveness, let alone her willingness to share her goods. Thinking about everything that had happened, and the conversations we had had, and reading between the lines, I thought that I understood her. Her reasons were many and complicated and even, I suppose, contradictory. And I think they were motivated by a mixture of good hearted generosity, wise caution, and good old fashioned and prudent mistrust. And let's not forget an endless desire for erotic depravity. She had never really hated her mum, and she had forgiven herself for being less than a good mum herself. As to me, I am a man, and she never was going to believe that there was a man on earth who could be trusted when there was a sniff of pussy on the air. And despite everything, they were a close family; three generations of woman in all her magnificent and contrary glory.

So how had she rationalized it all and made herself so comfortable that we were about to have the bizarrest foursome there ever was? She trusted me when I told her that she was the woman for me and even if I had the hots for other ladies, there were none that could take her place. Sex with them was just pleasurable recreation. And she figured that better with the devils she knew; and with her knowledge too. And there was too, I'm sure, a bit of keep your friends close, keep your enemy's closer about it too.

And, and lets not be coy, she was not your everyday sort of lady (and neither were the other two), and any sexual experimentation she could not resist. Her appetite for carnal pleasures was limitless, and she had even got over, it seemed, her disgust at the idea of a sex scene involving all three of them.

I had thought of that too, and being a philosophical sort of fellow; as well as a cowardly one, I had wondered about the legalities. Was it incestuous for them to have sex with me, but not actually with each other, or would the mere fact of them being part of the same sexual situation be enough? One way or another, I thought I would be the one to blame.

I imagined the scene, standing in front of the Judge.

'You stand charged of mayhems and depravities hitherto unthought-of of by Man. You have wilfully corrupted these three innocent and vulnerable women, upon whom you have mercilessly preyed in pursuit of the satisfaction of your unnatural lusts. How do you plead?'

'Not guilty by reason of diminished responsibility, m'Lud.'

'What on earth do you mean?'

'I mean, m'Lud, that once I sat down with the three of them that first night and they all seemed to have wicked designs on me, I was lost. I was mad with lust and desire...'

Without further ado, the revels began.

'Be my guest girls,' said Mum, with the smug assurance of one who knows who is really in control of things. 'Age before beauty!' announced Grandma and added 'I'm aged and beautiful!'

Mum and Grand daughter nodded assent; showing the proper respect for their elders. They slithered around to watch and lit cigarettes as I got ready for Grandma. And as I did that, Grandma got herself ready for me. Off came the sprayed on leopard skin mini dress. Her underwear consisted on a miniscule peep hole string bra and the tiniest string throng you could imagine. The gusset, if so tiny a piece of string could be called that, was pulled deliciously between her plump and prominent fanny lips, as she sat down in the armchair and opened her legs as wide as she could. 

Grandma spread open that extravagantly over used and magnificent old cunt of hers for my delectation. As I stared at that lewd and delicious old hole, with its great floppy and crinkly beef curtains that she was pulling apart as far as they would go, the other two fixed their eyes on my cock to see if I got hard. Of course I did, and Daughter screeched out

'Look, 'e does like 'er ole twat!'

'Course 'e does!' said Grandma, what man could resist such an expert and experienced old pussy as this. A man can see what a cunt can do for his cock and no one could look at this and not see that it's the way to 'eaven! And you fink it's dry 'n' shrivelled up. Look 'ow juicy I am! As she said this she rubbed her fingertips over her cunt lips, which were indeed glistening with her viscous lady juice. She reached towards me with her fingers, inviting me to taste her. I did not hesitate and leaned forward and licked her fingers and savoured the manna of mature cunt heaven. 

I couldn't help but think of that judge again, as I stared at that lewd old slapper as she peeled open that hungry old cunt of hers. 

'You claim that there was no actual contact between these ladies themselves, but do you mean to deny that when you were entering the daughter, there was not the vaginal fluids of the mother on your penis; not to mention those of the young woman's grandmother. Surely you do not mean to attempt to persuade the court that you showered and refreshed in between your lewd assaults on these unfortunate women?

'No, m'Lud, I can't claim that; but as I said, I was mad with lust and desire...'

'I bet ya can't wait o get up 'ere again!' she said, lewdly staring at me. 

'Watch out!' Mum taunted; 'she could sharpen pencils with that old cunny of 'ers!'

'I fuckin' could too!' said Grandma, glorying in her depravity.

I stood up and dropped my trousers and my prick was as hard and long as a pole. She gazed at it as it came towards her.

'Give me one of them fags too,' Grandma ordered, asserting herself as well she might, 'I like a nice smoke 'n' poke.'

This was her moment and she was going to milk it for all it was worth, just as her old fanny milked my cock of all the cum it had to dispense. She was the head of the family in the end and she was going to show the other two how things stood. Standing prominently erect at that moment was my tool, ready for the job.

'Come 'ere,' she ordered, 'I wanna suck yer knob. I'll show these young sluts 'ow a real woman blows a dick.'

What I get was a fabulous smoky blow job. She pulled all the tricks; sucking me off a bit and then stopping to take a pull on her cigarette and then opening her mouth and taking my cocking inside and exhaling the blue smoke around my shaft. The she would get back to her gobbling and then stop, take a pull and repeat the trick. 

As her mouth worked its magic on my prick, I felt her sharp nailed finger slither its way up my rectum.

'Careful!' I told her, 'you'll make me cum!'

'Not yet, yer dirty fucker!' she roared, 'me ole cunt and me shitbox need a fuckin from this dick first.'

'We had better get to it then!' I told her.

'Right,' she said, leaning back in the chair; 'cunt first, then up me arse!'

I glanced over to see what Mum and Daughter were up to. They were both stripped down to their cheap slut exotic underwear from the one pound shop and seemed to be having a competition to see who could stretch open her cunt the widest.

I looked back at Grandma prone in the chair and there was only one cunt I was interested in at that moment. The old slapper was pulling herself wide open too and she said, as I guided my cock towards that entrance to heaven

'Mine's the best; years more of experience and only a cunt as experienced as this really knows 'ow to love a man's cock. Come on, get it in me an' fuck Grandma good 'n' 'ard. My cunt can do blow jobs!'

I was all the up her in no time and she lit herself another cigarette from the burning stub of the last one. With me deep inside her, she was pulling away on her cigarette and pulling on her pussy muscles too, so that she was sucking on my cock with her fanny just as she was sucking the goodness out of her fag with her other set of lips.

The other two sat and smoked and played with their cunts and stared with feasty vulpine eyes at us and I knew that it would not be long before watching would not be enough, and sure enough daughter wriggled over so that I could reach her. Grandma was too far gone to protest. She opened her legs towards me and offered her pussy forward. I moved my hand towards her and soon my fingers were exploring her hot hole. Not to be left out, Mum stood up and went around behind me. She rested her chin on my shoulder so as to get a better view of me banging her mother and then I felt a little pushing and stretching sensation at my arse and soon her finger was worming past my ring and into my rectal canal. Just one of her fingers was enough to stimulate my anus and gave a piquant urgency to my thrusts into Grandma, who was heating up fast as my cock explored the inner reaches of her late middle aged vagina. I could feel her tightness hugging my shaft and every time I was in as far as I thought I could go, Mum would give me a little more of her finger and I would get a little deeper into Grandma.

Grandma's tightness made an interesting contrast with Daughter's more spacious chasm. With her help I had three fingers in her now, and she seemed to be able to expand herself as much as was needed to accommodate whatever took her fancy. I had fucked her before, and not noticed then how luxuriantly large she was in there; but now I felt like her young pussy was going to swallow my hand. That, however, came later.

I kept banging away at Grandma's tight and juicy cunt for a good five minutes and all the while she told the other two what wonders my cock was doing to her.

She managed to awaken from her fucking trance enough to say. 

'Now me arse!'

All the while, Mum had gone on fingering my arsehole and my fingers had still been diddling about in Daughter's twat. I had to stop that for a moment though, to get up Grandma's bum hole. I pulled out of her cunt and she eased forward and lifted herself a little to make her bonus hole accessible. It was easy enough to get into her though, and I only needed to use the minimum of sphincter manipulation and her much visited back door was open and ready to permit me entrance to the house of pleasures.

As my cock pushed into her rectum she reached down and stretched her fanny open and rubbed her clit with her taloned fingers

'Bleedin' 'ell!' said Daughter, 'be careful; you'll do the poor ole cow an injury.'

'No 'e won't!' spat Grandma; 'I've bin takin' knobs bigga 'an 'is up me dirtbox since before you were born!'

Feeling the silky flesh of her tight rectal canal caressing my tool, I could well believe it. She was quickly relaxed and I was able to go at her arsehole just as I had at her pussy. She purred with pleasure and in the knowledge that for now she was queen of the castle.

'Make sure ya shoot yer muck right up there!' she cried out.

I was already close as I rammed in and out of her pooper, but the filthy words she uttered, and the look of abandoned slutdom about her as I looked down at her was more than I could resist and my cock spewed its goo deep into her arsehole.

I pulled out and she was on me, licking and sucking her arse dirt off of my prick. The she looked up at the other two as if to say 'beat that!' 

Daughter came forward first, offering me her young twat to finger again. I pushed a finger in and then another 

Give his dick a good gobblin' while I watch,' she barked at her grand daughter. She looked triumphantly at Mum, but Mum did not seem to mind. She was leaning back into the corner of the sofa, smoking and gently wanking her cunt with her fingers.

I was wondering how many more than the three fingers I had given her so far I could get into Daughter's young love cave when she said 

'Come on, fist me! I can take yer 'ole 'and!'

And she could too, as I quickly discovered.

'Fuckin' 'ell!' shrieked Grandma; 'where the fuck did ya learn to do that. Looks well fuckin' painful!'

Even as she said it, I could see her getting to work trying to fist herself. These ladies were still in competition with each other, even now. Daughter won the fisting contest though. Grandma struggled to get four fingers in and gave up, saying

'Well, it just shows yer, even a few 'undred cocks u there won't stretch a lady where nature don't wan' 'er to go! Anyway, me arse is better 'an yours!'