5 comments/ 92844 views/ 11 favorites Grandma and Jack By: MisterReason A woman alone and lonely confronts her inner demons with an assist from her old friend Jack. *** When that bottle is gone, thought Joan Arnold as she stood by the side of the bed in the guest room of her home, I'll not buy another. This time, she vowed, I mean it. It was all because of that - actually - it wasn't because of the bottle of Jack Daniels that she bought. It was because of the half empty bottle that she had found tucked away in the back of the cupboard, left there by her husband, now 3 years passed, and although she had known it was there, she had never touched it. One night she was bored - more bored than usual - and decided to take a little sip of it. It wasn't like she hadn't even had alcohol before, because back in the day she used to go out with her husband and drink them up just like he did, but that was long ago. Drinking alone? That sounded like something a drunk would do, and when she couldn't get the bottle opened at first she realized that she just should have thrown it away, but she didn't. After pouring warm water around the cap for a while she had managed to get it opened. Her first drink in probably four years made her throat burn and her head spin, Joan recalled, and she had gone to bed right after it. The next night, not so much, and she soon found that it was easier to fall asleep after a drink. This though - this was wrong. Standing by the side of the bed that your grandson is sleeping in, so sweet and innocent looking, looking down at him, is one thing. A grandmotherly thing. Looking at him with your nightgown pulled up to your waist while your hand is between your legs, playing with yourself is quite another thing. You're 62 years old, Joan Arnold, she scolded herself. Not some teenager with raging hormones, like Timmy there in bed. She had just come in to pull the sheet over her visiting grandson, noticing when she passed the open guest room door that the lad was partially uncovered, but instead she stood there and looked at him. Timmy had changed so much recently, Joan mused at she looked at the son of her daughter, sprawled across the bed. The sheet was down to his waist, and while Joan assumed that he was wearing something below the sheet, he had no shirt on. Timmy was a slender lad, and laying there with his arms akimbo Joan could see his rib cage clearly even in the faint moonlight. Glancing up, she saw something new, a wisp of light brown hair under his arm. "Gee Grandma," Joan recalled Timmy saying not long ago. "I wish I had hair under my arms like you and Dad do." That day was so embarrassing, Joan recalled, because she was usually impeccably groomed, but after Herb had passed it didn't seem to matter any more. Now look at you, Timmy, Joan thought. All grown up. Joan shook her head after she thought more about it. That conversation took place years and years ago, although the way time flew by she would have sworn it was last month. Timmy was a boy back then, and now he's a man, at least chronologically. Physically, at about 5'7" and 125 pounds he still looked like the boy who wanted to lick the spoon she used to stir the cookie batter. Enough Joan, she thought to herself. Go back to the kitchen, have a nightcap and go to bed, and for heavens sake get your hand out from your sex. But it feels so good, she reasoned as her eyes went down from Timmy's scrawny chest, past his rib cage to his belly button. Below the little indentation - was that hair? It was. A thin golden trail that led lower to... Don't do it, she scolded herself as she reached over and took the edge of the sheet in her hand. Pull the sheet up, not down. Just a peek, she reasoned. Curiosity killed the cat, but she wasn't going to do anything but take a peek, and so she gently lifted the fabric and lowered it. The thin row of brown hairs became thicker and then became a bush, and below that was his manhood. Didn't look that much different that he had 18 years ago when she would help bathe him. A little larger and more wrinkled, and the testicles that hung down between his legs certainly had changed, but Timmy was nothing like his grandfather down there. Oh my, Joan thought as she set the sheet down at Timmy's knees, her eyes still fixed on her grandson's privates. His penis was getting bigger, and fast. Joan looked up at Timmy, but his eyes were closed and his breathing steady. Down below, the tiny tube was now anything but tiny, and within a minute his penis was erect and arched back onto his tummy, the vein riddled underside of his organ looking like the roots of a tree. Joan's breath was chattering as her fingers rubbed her clitoris. Her mouth was dry, and she would give anything for a drink, but that would mean leaving Timmy's side and tearing her eyes away from his magnificent organ. Had he experienced girls touching it? Did any of them put it in their mouths? Was he even interested in girls? Who knows these days, Joan mused? Was he a virgin? Had he put that penis, which had to be more than 6" long and seemed to be throbbing as it arched back to his tummy, inside a girl? Was it good for him, and her? Just then, Joan looked up at Timmy's angelic face, with the cute dimples and the big brown eyes. Eyes that were wide open and looking right at her. His grandmother, standing by his bedside with her hand working feverishly inside of her. "Omigod," Joan gasped. "Timmy - I'm sorry. I..." "I'm not," Timmy answered softly, neither moving or making any effort to hide himself. "I wanted you to see me. Wanted you do see how much I've grown. Do you like what you see?" "Yes," Joan heard herself say, and when Timmy said that it wasn't fair that she could see him but he couldn't see much of her, she lifted the nightgown over her head. "Nice," Timmy was saying, and although she felt she looked every one of her 62 years her grandson's words sent a tingle down her spine, and when he told her to put her hand back between her legs and use the other one to play with her breasts, she did as he asked. Those weren't the words Timmy used however, and although his language was coarse and unlike anything Joan had even heard come out of her grandson's mouth, they fit the vulgar situation she found herself in. "Go back to fingering your cunt, Grandma," Timmy had said. "Man, I figured you had a hairy one but man, that's great. Love how wide your bush grows. Squeeze your tits for me. Make those nipples hard." So Joan did what he wanted. He frigged herself while first kneading her breasts and then mauling them, pulling on the small orbs which used to sit out so proudly but now drooped noticeably, and her nipples soon blossomed and throbbed. "Oh yeah, Grandma," Timmy was saying, and then he reached down and took his cock in hand and pulled it upright, waving it in her direction. "Been a long time since you sucked on one of these I'll bet, huh Gram?" Timmy was saying. "Still know how?" Joan nodded, her eyes burning from the sweat that poured from her brow, but that was only half true because while she certainly knew how to give head, to her shame it hadn't been all that long since she had taken a man in her mouth. Not even a week had passed. And now Joan was crawling onto the bed, and as she knelt beside her grandson and took his arching manhood in her hand she marvelled at his hardness, having forgotten how stiff they got when they were young. "Holy shit Grandma!" Joan heard her grandson moan as her lips slid down nearly the entire length of this shaft. "That's so good!" It was good, Joan had to admit, and this wasn't some random cock and wasn't some guy she had met on the Christian Seniors dating website, this was her own flesh and blood. It was a sin and it was evil and that made it all the better. Joan was at his grandson's hip, still sucking away, while Timmy reached down and squeezed her dropping breast, kneading it roughly before sliding his hand under her arm. As his fingers slid over the wet flesh of her armpit she wondered whether Timmy was unhappy that she was smoothly shaved, but it was too late for that now. Now Joan was on her back and Timmy was scrambling up between her spread legs, with his dripping erection in hand. His foreplay had consisted of a couple of his fingers wiggling inside her for a few seconds, but that was enough for both of them. "Please honey," Joan whimpered, almost begging for mercy as Timmy brought himself to her opening. "It's been so very long, and you're so big! Please don't hurt me." "I won't Grandma," Timmy promised, and Joan smiled, pleased at her performance. In fact, it hadn't been very long as all, and while her grandson had a nice sized cock, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but Joan suspected it was something Timmy wanted to hear, as was her howl when his erect staff slid into her. As her pussy clamped sown around Timmy's cock, Joan figured that all his promises of being gentle would go out the window, and she was right. Timmy started out nice and slow, but within seconds he was like a wild boar, snorting and thrusting hard into her. It didn't last long, but long enough for Joan to cum, and cum hard, and as she cried out she felt her grandson's cock jump inside of her, and then his warm seed coated her insides and it was over. "Oh Grandma, I love you so much," Timmy was saying while Joan apologized for taking advantage of her own grandson like that. "I don't know what came over me," Joan said. "It's just that I'm so lonely, and when I saw you laying there all grown up and handsome, I..." "It's okay Grandma," Timmy was saying. "I wasn't a virgin or anything. I mean, you weren't the first but you were the best. I love you so much. I want to do you all night." "I suppose I can only go to hell once," Joan declared and Timmy nuzzled into her neck, and as he ground his soon to be hard again cock into her thigh, Joan thought about the last month and how much her life had changed. Before she had reached this - the depths of her crumbling morality - there were steps she had taken down this road of depravity. **** Hello faithful readers... There is more to this story, but because the rest of the tale has no incest content, I decided to split this up. This incest part is separated - and the rest of the story will appear under the same title but with an addition to the title. "Grandma and Jack: The Whole Story" will be submitted right after this story, and that will contain this segment at the beginning and then will trace the wacky behavior of Grandma that led up to the meeting with her grandson. Sort of like a Literotica version of the movie "Memento", Harold Pinter's "Betrayal" or the Seinfeld episode that started at the end and went backwards to the beginning of Kramer and Jerry meeting. Hopefully it works. If not, I tried. So if you like this story and want to follow it even without the Incest angle, look for it. I have NO idea what category that will appear under. That will be Literotica's call. As always I thank all of my very loyal and kind readers for their support. Grandma and Jack: The Whole Story Attention readers... The first part of this story, barely more than half a literotica page, was published here as an incest story. The rest of the story describes what happened to get her to that place. The rest of the story has virtually nothing to do with incest, so if that topic offends you please scan down to the next row of *** where the traditionally raunchy tale starts. Please note that the story is written so that the events are told in reverse chronological order. If you saw the movie Memento, it's like that. The end is at the beginning and the start is at the end as Joan reflects back on her recent past. I would appreciate any and all reader comments about the style and the story, because if readers find it confusing I can easily change it to a most traditional form. Just an experiment here, and I hope you like it. Thanks to all my very loyal readers. *** When that bottle is gone, thought Joan Arnold as she stood by the side of the bed in the guest room of her home, I'll not buy another. This time, she vowed, I mean it. It was all because of that - actually - it wasn't because of the bottle of Jack Daniels that she bought. It was because of the half empty bottle that she had found tucked away in the back of the cupboard, left there by her husband, now 3 years passed, and although she had known it was there, she had never touched it. One night she was bored - more bored than usual - and decided to take a little sip of it. It wasn't like she hadn't even had alcohol before, because back in the day she used to go out with her husband and drink them up just like he did, but that was long ago. Drinking alone? That sounded like something a drunk would do, and when she couldn't get the bottle opened at first she realized that she just should have thrown it away, but she didn't. After pouring warm water around the cap for a while she had managed to get it unstuck. Her first drink in probably four years made her throat burn and her head spin, Joan recalled, and she had gone to bed right after it. The next night, the effect was not so much, and she soon found that it was easier to fall asleep after a drink. This though - this was wrong. Standing by the side of the bed that your grandson is sleeping in, so sweet and innocent looking, looking down at him, is one thing. A grandmotherly thing. Looking at him with your nightgown pulled up to your waist while your hand is between your legs playing with yourself is quite another thing. You're 62 years old, Joan Arnold, she scolded herself. Not some teenager with raging hormones, like Timmy there in bed. She had just come in to pull the sheet over her visiting grandson, noticing when she passed the open guest room door that the lad was partially uncovered, but instead she stood there and looked at him. Timmy had changed so much recently, Joan mused at she looked at the son of her daughter sprawled across the bed. The sheet was down to his waist, and while Joan assumed that he was wearing something below the sheet, he had no shirt on. Timmy was a slender lad, and laying there with his arms akimbo Joan could see his rib cage clearly even in the faint moonlight. Glancing up, she saw something new, a wisp of light brown hair under his arm. "Gee Grandma," Joan recalled Timmy saying not long ago. "I wish I had hair under my arms like you and Dad do." That day was so embarrassing, Joan recalled, because she was usually impeccably groomed, but after Herb had passed it didn't seem to matter any more. Now look at you, Timmy, Joan thought. All grown up. Joan shook her head after she thought about it. Silly woman, she scolded herself. That conversation took place years and years ago, although the way time flew by she would have sworn it was last month. Timmy was a boy back then, and now he's a man, at least chronologically. Physically, at about 5'7" and 125 pounds he still looked like the boy who wanted to lick the spoon she used to stir the cookie batter. Enough Joan, she thought to herself. Go back to the kitchen, have a nightcap and go to bed, and for heavens sake get your hand out from your sex. But it feels so good, she reasoned as her eyes went down from Timmy's scrawny chest, past his rib cage to his belly button. Below the little indentation - was that hair? It was. A thin golden trail that led lower to... Don't do it, she scolded herself as she reached over and took the edge of the sheet in her hand. Pull the sheet up, not down. Just a peek, she reasoned. Curiosity killed the cat, but she wasn't going to do anything but take a peek, and so she gently lifted the fabric and lowered it. The thin row of brown hairs became thicker and then became a bush, and below that was his manhood. Didn't look that much different that he had 18 years ago when she would help bathe him. A little larger and more wrinkled, and the testicles that hung down between his legs certainly had changed, but Timmy was nothing like his grandfather down there. Oh my, Joan thought as she set the sheet down at Timmy's knees, her eyes still fixed on her grandson's privates. His penis was getting bigger, and fast. Joan looked up at Timmy, but his eyes were closed and his breathing steady. Down below, the tiny tube was now anything but tiny, and within a minute his penis was erect and arched back onto his tummy, the vein riddled underside of his organ looking like the roots of a tree. Joan's breath was chattering as her fingers rubbed her clitoris. Her mouth was dry, and she would give anything for a drink, but that would mean leaving Timmy's side and tearing her eyes away from his magnificent organ. Had he experienced girls touching it? Did any of them put it in their mouths? Was he even interested in girls? Who knows these days, Joan mused? Was he a virgin? Had he put that penis, which had to be at least 6" long and seemed to be throbbing as it arched back to his tummy, inside a girl? Was it good for him, and her? Just then, Joan looked up at Timmy's angelic face, with the cute dimples and the big brown eyes. Eyes that were wide open and looking right at her. His grandmother, standing by his bedside with her hand working feverishly inside of her. "Omigod," Joan gasped. "Timmy - I'm sorry. I..." "I'm not," Timmy answered softly, neither moving or making any effort to hide himself. "I wanted you to see me. Wanted you to see how much I've grown. Do you like what you see? Do you like my cock?" "Yes," Joan heard herself say, and when Timmy said that it wasn't fair that she could see him but he couldn't see much of her, she mechanically lifted the nightgown over her head. "Nice," Timmy was saying, and although she felt she looked every one of her 62 years her grandson's words sent a tingle down her spine, and when he told her to put her hand back between her legs and use the other one to play with her breasts, she did as he asked. Those weren't the words Timmy used however, and although his language was coarse and unlike anything Joan had even heard come out of her grandson's mouth, they fit the vulgar situation she found herself in. "Go back to fingering your cunt, Grandma," Timmy had said. "Man, I figured you had a hairy one but man, that's great. Squeeze your tits for me. Make those nipples hard." So Joan did what he wanted. He frigged herself while first kneading her breast and then mauling it, pulling on the small orb which used to sit out so proudly but now drooped noticeably, and her nipples soon blossomed and throbbed. "Oh yeah, Grandma," Timmy was saying, and then he reached down and took his cock in hand and pulled it upright, waving it in her direction. "Been a long time since you sucked on one of these I'll bet, huh Gram?" Timmy was saying. "Still know how?" Joan nodded, her eyes burning from the sweat that poured from her brow, but that was only half true because while she certainly knew how to give head, to her shame it hadn't been all that long since she had taken a man in her mouth. Not even a week had passed. And now Joan was crawling onto the bed, and as she knelt beside her grandson and took his arching manhood in her hand she marvelled at his hardness, having forgotten how stiff they got when they were young. "Holy shit Grandma!" Joan heard her grandson moan as her lips slid down nearly the entire length of this shaft. "That's so good!" It was good, Joan had to admit, and this wasn't some random cock and wasn't some guy she had met on the Christian Seniors dating website, this was her own flesh and blood. It was a sin and it was evil and that made it all the better in a perverse way. Joan was at his grandson's hip, still sucking away, while Timmy reached down and squeezed her drooping breast, kneading it roughly before sliding his hand under her arm. As his fingers slid over the wet flesh of her armpit she wondered whether Timmy was unhappy that she was smoothly shaved, but it was too late for that now. Now Joan was on her back and Timmy was scrambling up between her spread legs, with his dripping erection in hand. His foreplay had consisted of a couple of his fingers wiggling inside her for a few seconds, but that was enough for both of them. "Please honey," Joan whimpered, almost begging for mercy as Timmy brought himself to her opening. "It's been so very long, and you're so big! Please don't hurt me." "I won't Grandma," Timmy promised, and Joan smiled, pleased at her performance. In fact, it hadn't been very long as all, and while her grandson had a nice sized cock, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but Joan suspected it was something Timmy wanted to hear, as was her howl when his erect staff slid into her. As her pussy clamped down around Timmy's cock, Joan figured that all his promises of being gentle would go right out the window, and she was right. Timmy started out nice and slow, but within seconds he was like a wild boar, snorting and thrusting hard into her. It didn't last long, but long enough of Joan to cum, and cum hard, and as she cried out she felt her grandson's cock jump inside of her while his warm seed coated her insides. "Oh Grandma, I love you so much," Timmy was saying while Joan apologized for taking advantage of her own grandson like that. "I don't know what came over me," Joan said. "It's just that I'm so lonely, and when I saw you laying there all grown up and handsome, I..." "It's okay Grandma," Timmy was saying. "I wasn't a virgin or anything. I mean, you weren't the first but you were the best. I love you so much. I want to do you all night." "I suppose I can only go to hell once," Joan declared and Timmy nuzzled into her neck, and as he ground his soon to be hard again cock into her thigh, Joan thought about the last month and how much her life had changed. Before she had reached this - the depths of her crumbling morality - there were steps she had taken down this road of depravity. **** The step before... "And I'm so ashamed of myself," Joan said tearfully as she held onto Father Logan's hand tightly. "I'm going to hell, aren't I Father?" "I certainly can't judge others," the kindly priest had said. "For I am just as filled with sin as anyone else. We all have these things inside of us. It sounds like you were raped." "No, I can't say that," Joan said. "I shouldn't have had that drink - I mean all those drinks." "Perhaps you were drugged," Father Logan said. "Maybe," Joan said, watching Father Logan as he walked over to the door of his office and after peeking outside, closed and locked it before returning to his parishioner. "Why else would you go to that park like you did with those men?" Father Logan. "That's not somebody you ordinarily do, is it Joan? Going to a park late at night with strangers?" "Heavens no!" Joan exclaimed. "I mean, I knew the one man before. We dated once, but the other man just showed up at the bar, and the next thing I knew..." "How do you feel about what happened?" Father Logan asked. "Honestly." "I was scared, and I hated the men while it - you know?" "Of course," Father Logan replied. "That's only natural, but the way you described it to me so vividly, it was almost as if a part of you enjoyed it. Is that possibly right?" "I can't explain it," Joan said tearfully. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have let them get me drunk and I shouldn't have gone to the park, but - yes. Forgive me. Part of me did enjoy it. I have been so lonely since Herb passed." "It's alright my dear," Father Logan said. "We go back a long way here at the church. I remember how much you and Herb loved each other. You've always been a good parishioner and a solid citizen in the community." "I've tried, Father," Joan sobbed. "Heaven knows I have, but things have changed since Herb passed, and sometimes when I'm alone, these thoughts go through my head. Wicked thoughts, and I know that..." "It's alright, Joan," Father Logan assured her,, gently massaging her shoulder. "After all, you're still an attractive woman with needs like everyone else. How old are you? 50 or so?" "Heavens no," Joan said. "I'm 62." "Really? You don't look it. I can't believe you're 20 years older than I am," Father Logan exclaimed. "You're quite pretty and have such a trim figure." "Oh. Thank you," Joan said. "It's no wonder that these men found you attractive," Father Logan went on. "You said these men were in their 40's?" "I think the man I didn't know was in his forties. Bernie, the man I knew from the dating service and had gone out with before, is 35. He told me on line he was 55 but lied because he thought I wouldn't meet him if I knew his real age." "Something about the allure of an older woman excites men," Father Logan was saying. "And from what you said happened to you in the park that, it certainly seems as if they liked you a lot. Out in public like that, I mean I know the park was dark and deserted, but what if someone saw you? Someone from the parish?" "I would have died right then and there," Joan admitted while putting her head on Father Logan's shoulder after he knelt next to her chair. "But then again, maybe that fear was what excited them so." "And you as well?" Father Logan said as he rubbed her back. "The thrill of being caught while the men violated you excited not only them but you as well perhaps? "I guess," Joan confessed. "Did either of the men - I know you told me that you gave them oral sex," Father Logan asked. "And you let them put their penises in your vagina, right? "Yes, I did." "I was wondering," Father Logan continued. "Did either of them take you the other way?" "Other way?" Joan asked, puzzled. "I meant anally. Did they take you anally?" "Heavens no! I've never even done that - not even with my late husband." "And you said the second man, the man you didn't know, was a large man?" Father Logan asked. "Yes," Joan said. "I didn't realize a man could be so - you know - well developed. "Did this excite you?" Father Logan inquired. "Being taken by such a large man? Was that part of what excited you?" "I guess maybe it was," Joan confessed. "You see my husband, rest his soul, was a wonderful lover but while he was well endowed he was nothing like that man. That man though, the second man, he was so large that I never..." "Tell me Joan," Father Logan asked as he rose up to his feet. "Was that man built like this?" "What are you doing, Father?" Joan asked as Father Logan unzipped his fly and reached into his trousers. "It's alright, Joan." "Father!" Joan gasped as she saw Father Logan had managed to extricate his penis from confinement, and it was becoming erect as he was waving it in her face. "It's okay dear," Father Logan said as he ran his hand through Joan's silver hair. "It's just that your story, the incredible detail you went into, the telling excited me a great deal. You see, we're all weak in the flesh at times." "Was he this big?" Father Logan repeated, moving closer to Joan with his huge uncut organ now inches from her face. "Heavens no Father! Your penis - it's enormous. I can't..." "Sure you can Joan," Father Logan declared as she brought Joan's face closer to him, and he smiled when she closed her eyes and opened her mouth. "Ah! That's it. Oh! That's nice. Take it deep." Joan's mouth opened as wide as possible, jaws protesting as the bulbous knob of Father Logan's manhood pushed toward her throat, and she brought her hand up the thick shaft and stroked it as best she could even though her hand could not reach all the way around it. "Get up dear," Father Logan said as he pulled the meaty monolith from his parishioner's mouth, and then he took a step over towards his desk and cleared it with one swipe of his hand, sending everything flying to the carpet. "Are you mad Father?" Joan sniffled. "I'm sorry if I wasn't doing it well. You're so large..." "I'm mad at myself, Joan," he snapped as he stepped out of his trousers and boxers, and then took Joan by the wrist and leaned her over the massive mahogany desk, mimicking the position she had been in back at the park. "Father? What are you doing?" Joan asked as she felt her dress being yanked up and her panties practically torn off of her. "Please!" "Just relax, Joan," Father Logan said as his one hand squeezed the pale, slightly jiggling buttocks before him while the other searched in the desk drawer. "I'm weak - as weak as you are - perhaps more so, but you look too good to me right now." Father Logan squirted a glob of gel on his swaying member and spread it over the half of his manhood that he would be using before pointing the nozzle of the tube between Mrs. Arnold's ass cheeks and squirting it in. "OH!" Joan squealed twice, once at the sensation of the cold goo against her bare bottom and then a second time, louder, as she felt the rough stubby finger penetrate her. "Please don't, Father," Joan cried as she clutched the sides of the desk while the force of the finger practically lifted her feet off the floor, and then a second rough finger squeezed into her. "You come in here and tell me these racy stories - all of you women - and you expect me to just sit and smile and hold your hands?" Father Logan spat. "Not this though Father. I beg of you. Not my in my bottom! You're too big!" "I don't want what you gave those slobs in the park - offering your cunt to them like a common whore," he snapped, grabbing a hand-full of Joan's silver hair and pulling her head backward. "I want what no one else has had. Now relax. You know you want it." "I don't." "Liar. Tell the truth, Joan. You want this just like you wanted those men in the park, don't you? Say it." I - I want it..." "What do you you want?" Father Logan sneered. "Tell me." "I want you - want you to put your penis..." "Tell me what you want - use the right words!" "I want you to fuck me in the ass!" Joan cried out. "I want you to put that enormous cock of yours into... OMIGOD!!!" Father Logan rammed the fat knob of his manhood into the tan ring hard, and after the ridge of the gland pierced Joan he forced a few more inches of his tool into her before sliding back out. Joan stopped screaming after a few seconds, and then just rode the desk as the force of Father Logan's thrusts started inching the heavy furniture toward the door, a guttural grunt punctuating each push as he inched deeper and deeper into Joan. The searing pain became duller, and then it stopped hurting and the sensation of her pussy grinding into the desk took off. The desk must have moved a foot by the time Joan came, and a second after her orgasm stopped she felt Father Logan pull his cock out of her rectum. "Ooh!" Joan gasped when it popped out, but then she felt him slide back into her burning anus, having only extracted his cock to lubricate it some more. Grandma and Jack: The Whole Story With his massive manhood now freshly lubed almost down to the trunk of the immense organ, Father Logan's cock slid harder and faster, nearly impaling all of himself into Mrs. Arnold's helpless ass while he stood there and held her buttocks open with his meaty hands. Slap slap slap were the sounds that echoed in the rectory as Father Logan savored the sweet tightness of Joan's cavity, his meaty nuts enjoying the sensation as they thumped underneath on the edge of the desk below. Father Logan regretted that he hadn't taken the time to take Joan's dress off, wishing now he could have seen what was under the garment now bunched around her waist, but it was too late now because after at least 15 minutes he was about to cum. Joan moaned as she heard Father Logan bellow from above her, and then as his huge manhood jerked inside of her she felt the warmth of her seed as it spurted deep inside of her, filling her bowels with his semen and cooling her abused insides. They stayed as they were for a few minutes, Joan sprawled face down across the desk still gripping the edges of the table, until Father Logan pulled away, his cock making a sloppy pop as he emerged from Joan's anal ring. Father Logan looked at the woman on the desk, the muscles on the backs of Joan's pale white thighs still quivering, while above her buttocks remained parted, exposing Mrs. Arnold's anal cavity which was still gaping wide open. Father Logan opened her buttocks farther with his hands, doing a brief internal exam that happily revealed no permanent damage like he sometimes caused by his size and enthusiasm, and finally let go when his cum began to escape the orifice. "Let's clean you up, dear," Father Logan said, and after helping Joan off the desk he looked back at the puddle that was below where her pussy was. "Oh my! Did you urinate?" "No," Joan said as her face turned crimson, wincing when her feet touched the ground. "I don't think so." Father Logan helped Joan waddle to the bathroom and got her to take her dress off. He undid her bra for her, and then helped Joan climb into the tub, where an open bottomed stool left behind by the late Father O'Toole stretched across the tub. Father Logan got a washcloth wet and after lathering it up a little, began to clean Joan up. He wiped down Joan's neck and collarbone before moving down to her breasts. He took a long time to clean the small orbs, getting under the plaint globes and smiling when he saw the fat nipples pop out under the cloth. Joan cringed when she saw Father Logan make a face after she raised her arms like he had asked, and as Father Logan wiped the towel under her arms she apologized. "Sorry," Joan whispered when she saw Father Logan's reaction in seeing the wisps of hair that sprouted from her armpits. "I wasn't expecting to have anyone seeing me like this." "Make sure they're shaved next time," Father Logan said in a matter-of-fact manner after washing the deep hollows, and after moving the towel down, added, "The pubic hair can stay, but you need to trim it. There are also a few hairs around your anus that I want removed as well." Joan jumped, not only from the warm towel that was wiping her pussy, but from him saying that there would be a next time. The towel worked inside of her, and as it did Father Logan leaned closer to her. "How many times did you orgasm back in the office?" Father Logan asked. "Back when I was taking you anally on the desk?" "Twice," Joan said, shivering when she felt Father Logan's finger emerge from the towel, and now he had her finger in her pussy while the towel was grabbed by Father Logan's other hand and began working around her savaged anus. "You liked it didn't you?" Father Logan asked, and when Joan nodded he added, "Play with your tits for me. Don't worry. I won't let you fall." "You're going to cum again for me," Father Logan indicated as he looked at the aging slender woman with her legs spread playing with her breasts. "Just like this." "Harder!" Father Logan commanded as he worked most of his left hand inside Joan's pussy while the washcloth covered index finger of his right hand went in and out of her anus. "Pull on those tits of yours. Stretch them out - grab your nipples and pull your tits straight out for me. That's it!" "Cumming!" Joan's chattering voice called out just before her body jerked around on the stool from the orgasm caused by her becoming something of a puppet, and she leaned on Father Logan while her body convulsed uncontrollably for the longest time before she finally went limp. Joan slumped on the stool as Father Logan took her fingers out of her pussy and ass, and when she looked up Father Logan had taken off his shirt and socks and was climbing into the tub with her. "Would you like me to wash you?" Joan asked, nodding toward Father Logan's penis, which was nearly full erect again and was being presented to her looking much like it had when it had left her anal orifice. "In a minute," Father Logan said. "We'll bathe each other and then pray, but first there is something I want you to do." "But it's..." Joan managed to say, but by then Father Logan had put his cock to her lips and had the back of her head in his grasp. "That's it," Father Logan said, looking down at Joan's twisted face as he eased her mouth down on his cock. "Open wide." This time he came very quickly, fucking her face as he cradled her cheeks in his hands, and after he spurted down her throat he helped her up and they bathed each other and they prayed together, just like he had promised. "May I have a drink?" Joan asked timidly after they had dried and dressed and prayed, and they had been out in Father Logan's office when she saw the bottle of brandy over in the cabinet. "Certainly," Father Logan said, watching Joan waddle over to him as he poured. "You okay?" "Yes, Father," Joan said. "It feels like you're still inside of me." "That too will pass," he said with a smile as he watched her down the drink without blinking, and as he refilled the glass he asked, "Next Monday then?" "Yes Father," Joan said. "That will be good for me because I'm watching my grandson this weekend." "That's good because we don't want you going back to the park with those men again, do we? Doing all of those horrible things?" "Heavens no, Father," Joan promised. "Never again. In fact, I may bring my grandson to church with me Sunday morning." "Great! Then until then," Father Logan said, and then Joan was out on the street, walking home with a burning bottom that would remind her of her counseling session for a few days to come. *** The step that brought Joan to Father Logan... "This here is my friend Zeke," Bernie said as she gestured toward the tall man at her new friend's side, and as she stuck her tiny hand out and saw it disappear in the meaty paw of this Zeke fellow, it struck her that the two of them were polar opposites physically, like Abbott and Costello. "Bernie says you like Jack and Coke," Zeke said as he waved toward the bartender. "Give the lady here another one - a double!" Against her better judgement, Joan had agreed to meet Bernie at the same bar they had been to last week, just before she made that mistake. A mistake that wouldn't happen again she vowed. Sitting between the men, she was startled at how they were both pawing at her under the bar, rubbing her thighs through her dress, and as she got more nervous she got more thirsty. "I told Zeke a lot about you," Bernie was saying as her dress skid up her thighs. "About what we did last time." "You didn't!" Joan hissed, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. "That was between the two of us, and besides, that wasn't really me." "Did you skip the panties like I told you on the phone?" Bernie was asking, and then from her other side, Zeke was rising. Joan thought he was going to the bathroom or something, and she was just about to ask Bernie what he thought she was when Zeke slipped his hand way up her skirt. As he stood there calmly facing the other way like he was looking around for something, his hand pushed between her thighs and found her sex bare. "Yeah," Zeke growled as his finger rammed into Joan. "You were right man. Nice hairy pussy." "Please don't," Joan whimpered as she looked around the bar, which had a few other patrons but were not playing any attention to the end of the bar where she was being manhandled, "People will see." "It's okay Joan," Bernie assured Joan as his hand forced her skinny thighs further apart, and then his stubby fingers were playing with her pubic hair. "We had lots of fun last time, didn't we?" "Yes but," Joan replied, her voice catching in her throat when this Zeke character pushed a second finger into her. "Think how much fun you'll have with both of us," Bernie said. "I think Zeke likes you, don't you man?" "Nice hairy pussy," Zeke grunted. "Zeke likes his cunts hairy." "I know you do, my man," Bernie said. What was happening, Joan wondered? This was going on in a public place. They were treating her so rudely, especially this Zeke man, who not only looked like he just crawled out from a cave, but acted like it too, and he was so rough. "She's gonna cum soon," Zeke said, and Joan gripped the rounded edge of the bar tightly while staring straight ahead. "Not yet," Bernie said, and like a trained pet Zeke pulled his hand out from between her thighs and sat back at the bar like nothing was happening. "She wants another," Zeke was grunting toward the bartender. "No really, I'm..." "Relax,," Bernie said as his hand stayed between her legs. "I know you want to cum and I know you want to get to the park." "I don't know what you think I am..." "I know what you are," Bernie said with a smile. "Just like we are. Horny." "But why can't we just, you know?" Joan pleaded as another Jack and Coke appeared in front of her. "I don't want any more. Please." "Drink it," said Zeke calmly. "Just sip it," Bernie said. "And then why don't you reach over to Zeke's lap. You know, like you did with me here last time?" Joan was about to protest when her wrist was grabbed and pulled underneath the bar by Zeke, who pressed it on a bulge that stretched over toward his side. "Omigod!" Joan gasped when her hand was pressed on something that couldn't be. "Thought you'd like that," Bernie said as his fingers kept Joan on the brink of orgasm. "You thought you liked my cock - wait until Zeke sticks his in you. He's twice as big as me." "Let's get out of here," Zeke grunted, telling Joan to finish the last drink he had bought her. "Better drink it," Bernie said. "No bar in the park." *** On the way to the park, Joan couldn't believe she was letting these men take her to the park like this. Why had she even agreed to meet Bernie again after the last time? But at least Bernie was cute, in a George Costanza way. This Zeke was scary. They passed the sign that indicated there was a dusk to dawn curfew in the park, and when Zeke passed it he swatted it with his palm, nearly knocking it out of the ground in was planted in. "Didn't say no fucking, did it?" Zeke said and they both roared at that. "This way," Bernie said as he let them to the far side of the park. "We'll go to our special table, okay Joan?" "Please don't hurt me," Joan begged as Zeke held her by the bicep with what felt like an iron fist. "Hurt you?" Zeke bellowed too loudly in the dark and otherwise deserted park. "Ain't gonna hurt you. We're gonna fuck you." And then they were at the table. Last time it had been just the two of them, and Bernie had been nicer. Crude and clumsy, but nicer than he was now. It was like he was trying to mimic his friend. "Can't see nothing back here," Zeke said as he surveyed the area, and while there were lamps around the park, very little of the light went back where they were. "Don't want to have people seeing us do we, Joan," Bernie said as he sat Joan on the bench of the picnic table and undid his belt. "Ain't we gonna take her clothes off?" Zeke asked. "No time," Bernie said as his boxers came down and he pulled on his stub while moving up to Joan. "Too cool for that tonight. Not as hot as last time, but we'll change that, won't we Zeke?" "Want to see her tits and pussy," Zeke said. "Sit down and play around with her," Bernie said, motioning for Zeke to sit down behind Joan. "Here you go Joan." Joan found her hand reaching for the brown stub peeking out of Bernie's fly, which was semi-erect, and then Bernie was guiding her face to his cock and she was opening her mouth. Sitting behind her on the bench, she could smell the liquor on his breath as he unbuttoned the top of her dress and reached inside. "Too many clothes," Zeke grunted as he yanked Joan's bra upward and freed her breasts, and as he pulled on the loose flesh he complained that they weren't very big. "Big nipples." "Hey, don't hurt her, man," Bernie said. "She's got my cock in her mouth. Don't want her to bite it off by accident. She likes her tits played with rough, but don't get crazy." "I wanna fuck her," Zeke grunted. "Me first man, That's the way I roll," Bernie said, and after he pulled his dick away from Joan he pulled his trousers down and let them fall to his ankles. "Besides, after you fuck her with that log you'll ruin her. Get up Joan." Joan was pulled to her feet and positioned so that she was bent over the table. Bernie was pulling her dress up her back as he sidled up behind the older woman, reaching down between her legs to find her pussy dripping wet. "You want it bad, don't you Joan," Bernie snapped as he rubbed his dick between the lips of her sex. "Zeke, why don't you get yourself primed up. Give her a look at what she's gonna to get next." "I want her to suck my cock too," Zeke complained as he yanked down his pants and boxers. "Omigod," Joan gasped as she saw the size of the organ the barely biped was stroking, and it wasn't even hard yet, but then Joan felt Bernie's dick slide into her. "Oh yeah!" Bernie groaned as he held Joan's hips and began stroking in and out of her from behind. "Suck it," Zeke said as he leaned over toward Joan and rubbed the plump knob of his manhood onto her cheek while telling her to open her mouth. Joan leaned over and far as she could and tried to put her mouth on the enormous organ but the way Bernie was pounding into made it difficult, not to mention the fact that she was about to cum. Joan let out a garbled squeal as her orgasm rumbled through her body, and Bernie was cackling about his sexual prowess as he kept thrusting was Joan shuddered. "She cums good and loud," Bernie said as he pulled his cock out. "You done man?" Zeke asked. "Hell no. Why don't you lean back against the edge of the table," Bernie directed. "I'll keep doing her from behind and she can brace herself against you and suck your cock." Joan allowed herself to be placed between the two men, and as Bernie bent her over and put his cock back into her, her face ended up in Zeke's lap . Holding the shaft of his cock in her fists like a bat while stretching her mouth wide to accommodate the plum-sized knob of his cock. From behind Bernie was quickening his strokes and the faster he went the harder he probed Joan, almost lifting her feet from the grass with the force. Joan felt her orgasm coming so she took the fat glans from her mouth and started jerking Zeke's cock hard when her pussy contracted around Bernie's cock. "Fuck!" Bernie groaned while Joan squealed through her clenched teeth, and seconds after Joan came Bernie did as well, spurting his seed into her while holding the shaken woman up with his hands. "Your turn man," Bernie was saying to his friend as he backed away from Joan's bent over frame. "I'm too tall to do her like that," Zeke complained. "Put her on the table then," Bernie said, and Zeke complied, effortless lifting the tiny woman and placing her butt on the edge of the table and easing her back down so she was prone, with her legs hanging over the end. "Oh man, I love hairy pussies like this," Zeke said as he ran his fingers through the thick muff before bringing the head of his cock to the lips of Joan's sex, where Bernie's seed was oozing out. "OW!" Joan cried out as Zeke pushed the knob of his massive organ into her steamy orifice. "It hurts!" "Fuck her but don't fucking kill her," Bernie said as he watched his friend squeezing his cock into the older woman's sex. "You like that big dick, Joan." "Please - tell me - be gentle," Joan gasped. "He's too big." "Wait a minute," Bernie said. "Gotta loosen her up first, doofus. Step aside for a minute." Zeke reluctantly stepped back, his cock swaying in front of him, and when Bernie told him to grab Joan's right ankle he complied. "We'll get you ready for the horse cock of his," Bernie said as he stepped between Joan's spread thighs and grabbed Joan's left ankle. "What are you doing?" Joan said as her legs were spread wide. "We should make a wish," Zeke said as he watched Bernie put first one finger and then a second into Joan's pussy. "Omigod... Bernie..." Joan gasped as she felt another finger enter her. "Tight pussy for an old lady," Bernie said as his pinkie went on with the other three fingers. "You like this, don't you Joan?" "Easy - please," Joan whimpered as Bernie pushed his wrist watch up. "Holy shit!" Zeke said while his friend scrunched his hand up and tucked his thumb in. "OMIGOD!" Joan cried out as Bernie's hand spun inside of her, the squishing sound of his fist louder than the peepers chirping in the woods. "Gonna cum aren't you?" Bernie cackled as Joan's fists pounded the table at her hips, her upper torso lifting off of the wood while her eyes bugged out of her head. "Fuck her man," Bernie said as he yanked his hand out of Joan's pussy, and a second later Zeke stepped right in and slid his member into the gaping hole that Bernie left. Five or six savage thrusts later, Bernie had his hand over Joan's mouth in an attempt to stifle her scream as she came, her entire body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. "I think she likes it," Bernie cackled after he took his hand from Joan's mouth. "Tight pussy," Zeke grunted as he didn't miss a beet, and Bernie pulled on his own cock with one hand while playing with Joan's breasts through her rumpled dress. Five minutes later Zeke was still rutting into Joan, who was limp on the picnic table. She had cum yet again but was now spent and only a receptacle for Zeke's cock. "No more - please," Joan whispered to Bernie. "I can't." "You ever gonna cum?" Bernie asked his friend. "She's getting dry anyway," Zeke complained, and after a couple of more thrusts let out a moan as he filled Joan with his cum. "Wat are you doing man," Zeke asked as Bernie moved in between Joan's quivering thighs after he had backed up. "Watching you two got me hot," Bernie said as he brought his dick up to Joan's pussy. "I'll be quick. Hell, after that you won't even feel mine." He was right on both counts, as only a few pokes into Joan's sloppy sex had Bernie making another deposit into the mix. "You okay?" Bernie asked Joan as he helped her sit up. "Man, talk about multi-orgasmic! You're really something. Help her down you big lug." Zeke grabbed Joan and gently deposited her down from the table, but her legs buckled and only Bernie grabbing her kept her from falling down. "Here, sit down for a minute," he said as he had her sit on the bench. "You want to go back to the bar?" "No," Joan said. "Well, we got to get going," Bernie said. "You gonna be alright here?" "I guess," Joan said, the cool of the evening hitting her now that the sweat was drying on her. Grandma and Jack: The Whole Story "Maybe I'll call you," Bernie was saying to her as the two of them pulled up their pants, and then he turned to his friend. "You know who would get a kick out of Joan? Reggie," Bernie decided. "We could chip in for a motel room and the three of us could do her - man we could DP her. Maybe all three of us at once." "How could we do that?" Zeke asked. "Use your head dumb-ass. She's got three holes." "Oh." "You wouldn't have to pay," Bernie told Joan. "That sound like fun?" "I couldn't," Joan said, and then the two of them were gone and Joan was alone on the bench. Joan got up with difficulty, and after getting her bra back down to cup her breasts, waddled over behind a tree and squatted down. "Joan Arnold, what's become of you?" she said aloud as she let loose a torrent of Jack and semen onto the grass below her. "Peeing outside and letting two men sex you?" After she was done she reached down and felt inside of her, cringing from the soreness of being taken like she was, but then her finger slid upwards and massaged her clit. It was wicked, and she was wicked, Joan knew. A trip to see Father Logan was in order, since he had been her guiding light when things got tough. She wouldn't tell him about what she did, of course, but she needed to get her head on straight again, and the first step would be to stop drinking. Maybe not completely stop, Joan reasoned as her fingers circled her little bud, and as she squatted there she thought back to what had just happened. Not so much Bernie, since she had already had him the time before, but that Zeke. He was like an animal in both word and deed. That penis of his, Joan recalled. She had never conceived that a man could be that large. then again, maybe he wasn't a man. He was crude and rude. But that penis, and whatever Bernie had done to fit his whole hand inside of her, making her orgasm over and over again, was still nothing like the way that huge organ of Zeke's had felt. A minute later Joan had gone down to her knees, sent down there by the force of her self-induced orgasm, and she stayed there for a while, not really sure if she could get up. She did eventually, brushing the dirt off her knees before grabbing her purse and hobbling out of the park to catch a cab. This time, unlike last week, she made sure that she had enough money for the cab fare. That should have given me a clue what Bernie was like, Joan recalled after he had left her at the entrance of the park after their "date". Never again, she vowed to herself, and as she waited for a cab to go by the thought back to that first date with Bernie. *** Meeting Bernie... Joan smiled at the gentleman who was waiting for her at the bar they had arranged to meet at, and although he seemed shorter and huskier than his description he gave in the ad on the Christian Seniors Dating Site, he seemed pleasant enough. His age though, now that was a lie because Bernie said he was 55, while the man facing her looked much younger. "I put down 55 because that's the minimum age there on that site," Bernie explained after they sat at the end of the bar, "Besides, a lot of women would freak out about meeting somebody 35. I just dig older women. I don't want their pensions or their alimony. I just want them. Do you know what I mean?" Joan jumped at that last line, because it was accompanied by a hand on her thigh, and even though it was a gentle touch and she was wearing slacks it still startled her. Still, the touch of a man after how many years, was refreshing in a way so she didn't object. "You look like a movie star," Bernie said as the bartender came over. "Can't think of her?" "Mary Pickford?" Joan asked giddily. "Don't know her? Was she in Porky's?" "I don't think so," Joan replied, and after Bernie asked her what she wanted to drink, she added, "I don't really drink much. Jack Daniels and Coke?" "Make it two - make them doubles," Bernie said, shooing the barkeep away which one hand while lightly massaging her thigh under the bar. "You don't look 62, that's for sure. You could pass for ten years younger." "Really, well I don't know about that, but thank you," Joan said as she blushed. "Do you date older women all the time?" "Haven't dated a woman my age since I was 18," Bernie said, downing half of his drink and encouraging Joan to drink up. "I think it all started when my grandfather died." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Joan said, wincing when she sipped her drink and found it strong. "No, it was good for a couple of reasons," Bernie said. "First of all nobody could stand him, especially my grandmother. Second, the night of the funeral my folks had me stay over at Grandma's house so she wouldn't have to be alone." "That was sweet of you," Joan sighed, and the second sip of the drink didn't taste as strong. "Grandma comes into the guest room of her house where I was sleeping, yanks down my pajamas and starts sucking my dick," Bernie explained. "What?" Joan said. "You heard me. Just goes down on me and sucks my cock until she got me hard and then climbed on top of me and rode me like I was a rodeo bull." "I can't believe that! That has to be against the law!" "No, I was old enough. I couldn't believe it either, but hey, I was 18 and young, dumb and full of cum," Bernie chuckled. "Still am, the last part I mean. She was a hell of a lay. That when I figured out that older women were the way to go, especially if they haven't had it in a while." "I don't know what to say," Joan whispered. "Say I'll have another," Bernie said, motioning to the bartender for refills. "And how about you Joan? How long have you been widowed?" "Three - over three years," Joan managed to say. "Been with a man since then?" Bernie asked, and when Joan shook her head he added, "A woman then?" "What makes you say that?" Joan asked, flustered. "Hey, no offense," Bernie replied. "Hey, if I was a dame I'd be the biggest lesbian in town. So were you with a woman? I'll be you were." "Can we change the subject?" Joan asked, and as the second drink came she felt Bernie's hand slide up her thigh a bit higher. "Sure. You've got a nice body on you," Bernie said. "Some women let themselves go but you look pretty tight." "I do go to the gym three days a week," Joan said proudly. "I ride the bike 6 miles every time." "I'd love to watch you sweat," Bernie said. "Oh, I really do!" "Love to watch you sweat all over me," Bernie said, and he smiled when Joan took a deep gulp. "And you can really knock them down too. I love a woman who can drink. Let's see, you sweat and drink. What else do you do?" "I do a lot of knitting," Joan said, and jumped when Bernie's hand got to the top of her thigh. "And I watch TV too. Do you ever see Seinfeld? You look a lot like George on that show." "Do you like George?" "Oh yes." "Then that's okay," Bernie said, and then leaned over and whispered in Joan's ear, "Do you like to suck cock?" "What?" "You know, sucking cock? Like this?" Bernie said, pretending to suck on his thumb, and When Joan looked at him with bulging and disbelieving eyes, he continued. "This is 2012, not 1912." "I haven't dated in a while," Joan said as she reached for her drink. "You'll get used to it," Bernie said. "Wish my Grandma was still around because she would have loved the way it is these days. You know what she told me?" "Uh - no." "She told me that night we got it on that while my dick wasn't as big as Grandpa's, I knew how to use it," Bernie said as he took Joan's non-drinking hand and brought it under the bar. "Hope you aren't one of those size queens. Here, is this big enough for you?" "What are you doing?" Joan asked as he put her hand on the bulge in his pants and squeezed it. "Letting you check out my stuff," Bernie said. "Not quite 6" but I get hard fast and often. You like it? You must because you're squeezing it." Joan realized that he was right, because his hand was no longer forcing hers onto him and she was squeezing the hard tube on her own. "That's it Joan," Bernie said. "Why don't we have one for the road and get out of here?" "A movie?" Joan asked. "You mentioned something about a movie when we chatted on-line." "I have a better idea," Bernie said as his hand went back onto Joan's thigh. "How about a nice walk in the park?" *** "Let's go over here," Bernie said as he led her over to a secluded area. "The sign said the park was closed at dark," Joan remarked. "That means we'll have our privacy so we can get better acquainted," he said as he brought Joan over to a bench and sat her down before moving to her left and sitting down. "I'm better from this side, you know?" "No, I don't..." "I want you so bad," Bernie said as he leaned over and kissed Joan, and while Joan was shocked she didn't resist, even when he forced his tongue into her mouth. This was like back when she was in school, necking in the park, only this was a first kiss and her blouse was being unbuttoned. "Bernie," Joan gasped when their first kiss ended with his hand inside her blouse. "This is our first date." "It's called speed dating," Bernie said. "Ever hear of it? Well, this is Bernie's method. Bernie's a mover and a shaker, know what I'm saying?" Joan squirmed as Bernie's hand squeezed her bra cup, which wasn't nearly as full as when the bra was new, but despite his crudeness she was getting aroused as his hand seemed to be everywhere at once. "What's this?" Bernie said as his hand slid from her bra cup and under Joan's arm. "I'm sorry," Joan said as she tried to lower her arm from around Bernie's neck. "Wasn't expecting anything like this." "That's okay," Bernie said as his resisted Joan's effort to block him and kept toying with the hair under her arm. "It's cool. Bernie don't mind pit hair. That's who you look like. Julia Roberts. Ever see that picture in People magazine with her waving? She doesn't shave either." "I do usually but - and I don't look anything like Julia - omigod," Joan gasped as Bernie's hand left her armpit and managed to slid his hand under her bra and lift it up so that her breasts slid out. "Bet you've got a hairy pussy too," Bernie grunted. "Oh my," Joan cried out as her sagging breast was seized. "Nice and soft," Bernie growled as his hand roughly kneaded Joan's pliant breast, and Joan felt her nipples stiffen under the crude mauling. "Bernie loves hangers." "Your tits aren't big but you've got big nipples," Bernie said at the twisted the fat peg. "Oh yeah. You like these babies handled rough, don't you. You're getting Bernie so hot, Joan. Want to see how horny you make Bernie?" Joan sat on the edge of the bench, looking around and grateful that the area was dark and deserted, because Bernie was standing up and moving in front of her while reaching into his fly. "Here you go," Bernie said as he waved his erect penis at Joan. "Told you it wasn't big but I don't get any complaints. Open up for Bernie." Joan felt Bernie's hand on the back of her head, pulling her forward as he leaned forward. She told herself to get up and run, but when the head of his penis rubbed against her lips she felt her mouth open. "That's it," Bernie sighed at he started to guide Joan's head with his hands, and then ran his hands though her hair when she moved it by herself. "Just like riding a bike. You never forget." Joan's lips slid nearly all the way down to the base, and when Bernie dropped his pants he took it all in and her eyes were buried in his pubic hair. Up and down Joan's mouth went on the musky stub until Bernie pulled back. "Too fucking good," Bernie said as he helped Joan up and over to an adjacent picnic table. "Turn around." "What - we can't..." "We can and we will," Bernie informed Joan as he tugged Joan's slacks down to her knees and then grabbed her panties. "Wish you didn't wear these. Slows stuff up." With that Bernie yanked down Joan's panties and pushed them down to her ankles. Joan lost her balance for a second and reached out and grabbed the end of the picnic table. "Good idea, Bernie said as he hugged her from behind. "Bernie likes to do it doggy too." "What if somebody comes?" Joan asked as Bernie's hands slid lower. "Somebody is coming - both of us," Bernie said, and as his hand went down Joan's stomach and between her legs he exclaimed, "Damn, I knew you'd have a hairy pussy. Bernie loves a hairy snatch. And you're wet too! Bend over" "Omigod!" Joan cried out as she felt Bernie's penis poking around before finding the opening, and he groaned as he pushed himself into Joan's tight wet opening. "Yeah!" Bernie groaned as he began thrusting himself in and out of Joan, leaning over and around Joan to knead her dangling breasts. As Joan leaned over the table, she felt like crying. A 62 year old woman, in a park with a man little more than half her age, and the man was treating her like an animal. The thought of someone - a police officer coming up upon them like this - made Joan shudder. There she was, her blouse wide open, her brassiere up around her collarbone and her panties down to her ankles, letting this virtual stranger have his was with her. "OMIGOD!" Joan heard herself crying out as her orgasm roared through her body, and above her Bernie was cackling like a hyena while thrusting harder and faster, and even her collapsing onto the table didn't stop him. A half hour later Joan was still leaning over the table. Bernie was pulling up his pants while telling her what a great fuck she was, and while she wanted to ask him not to use that language she was too worn out to argue or even pull up her panties and slacks. Joan grimaced when she felt the sticky fluid running down the insides of her thighs, probably the result of the second time he had mounted her. He said it was a combination of her being even hotter than Julia Roberts and his incredible virility. "It was good for you, wasn't it?" Bernie was asking Joan and she reached over for her purse in search of a tissue. "How many times you cum that last time?" "I don't know," Joan said as she wiped their fluids from her legs. "Well, if it's a boy don't name it after me," Bernie cracked. "Get you drawers up so we can get out of here. This place gives Bernie the creeps. It ain't safe for you to be alone at night." Joan and Bernie walked out of the park, and when Bernie tried to direct her back toward the bar at the end of the street she resisted. "You bought the last round," Bernie said. "MY turn. A nightcap on Bernie." "Really have to get home," Joan said, so Bernie reached over and gave her a hug and a kiss, and told her he'd give her a ring sometime. "Don't bother," Joan said, but she didn't say it until he was gone. It took Joan 15 minutes to catch a cab, and as she rode home she vowed that she not only was done with drinking but was never going to date again. So much for dating 2012 style, she thought with a degree of disgust for the world at herself. *** The cab ride and the mistake... Still, she thought as the cab neared her home, there was no denying that despite how vulgar Bernie was and how crude he acted, it did feel good. Not having sex with a man in that long a time had made her forget just how good it felt to be wanted. "12.50," the cab driver said as he pulled up in front of her house. "Oh. Thank you," Joan said, fumbling into her purse and pulling out a ten and a five. "Keep the change." "What change?" the man growled as he looked at the five and the one she had given him. "$12.50. $13.25 now." "Oh dear," Joan said as she scrambled through her purse. "I thought that was a ten. I know I had more money than that." The cab to the bar, and then the drinks she bought, Joan thought as she did a little mental math. It was the end of the month, and money usually got tight around that time. Eighty cents in change, a loose dollar, and the meter kept ticking. "Sir, I'm sorry," Joan said. "I thought I had money." "One of your johns rip you off?" "What?" "You were working the park, weren't you?" the cabbie sneered. "Business bad? "What do you think I am?" Joan said indignantly. "I can smell the cum from here lady," the cabbie said. "As for what you are, you're about to go to jail for theft of services unless you come up with another - let's see - now you still owe $11 more than this, and counting." "I'll mail it to you, with a nice big tip," Joan said. "I swear." "I got a nice big tip for you too," the cabbie said. "Tell you what. I'll take it out in trade." "I don't understand," Joan said, but a few minutes later she did. *** Joan reflects on the last half hour... Joan stepped under the warm spray of the shower and stood there motionless, too tired and sore and ashamed to do much more than that. If Herb was up there watching, what would he think of her now? Seeking out a man on a website was bad enough, and then to go and meet him at a bar? Then, when you think you can't get any lower, you're sitting out in public giving fellatio to a stranger, and when he tells you to bend over a bench like a dog so he can have sex with you, you do it like a common tramp. It all paled in comparison to what had just taken place outside. The cab driver, a mean looking black man, not only pretty much called her a prostitute but a thief as well. It had been an honest mistake, but he said he'd been driving cabs too long to fall for that stuff. "You see any ATMs around here?" he had sneered as he looked around the quiet rural setting. "I ain't gonna drive all around the town burning gas while you play games. Time and gas is money, momma!" "I'll give you a break," he said, and Joan recalled how profusely she had thanked the man until she learned what she was expected to do. "Suck it or fuck it," the man said after he brought her behind a bush in front of her very own house. "Or do I call the cops? You owe me lady." That feeling of degradation, Joan said as she lathered herself between her legs, trying to eliminate the traces of Bernie. How could she feel so aroused and revolted at the same time? Kneeling in the dark in front of this cabbie and taking his cock first in her hand and then in her mouth. It smelled musky and tasted worse, but the odor and taste went away the more she sucked, Joan recalled. Her cheeks were a little raw from her face hitting the zipper each time her lips went down the shaft of the cock, which was both longer and thicker than Bernie's. It could have been a double for her late husband's penis, except for the color and the coarse pubic hair that grew down near the stump, and Joan's knees were aching after a few minutes in the dirt. Then the cabbie started grunting as he moved her head for her, and just before his last grunt she felt the surge go through his manhood. He was ejaculating into her mouth, without even warning her, but she managed to swallow most of it without choking, and then it was over. The cabbie was nice enough to help her up off of the ground and then he was gone. "I didn't even know his name," Joan mumbled to herself as she continued to scrub her sex, and as she did she wondered whether she should have done what he had suggested - let him have sex with her. Let him come in and do it in her bed. No, Joan decided as that familiar tingling began to spread inside her. She was too sore inside from all of Bernie's sexing her, and the cabbie's penis was much bigger. That would have hurt, but then again, maybe once she got started the pain would have given in to the pleasure. A couple of minutes later, Joan was leaning against the shower wall, holding onto the bar as her legs continued to quiver from the force of her orgasm. How many orgasms was that, she wondered as she stepped out of the shower and dried off. She had lost count, but it was worth it. She regretted the ways she had done it - in a park and in her front yard for goodness sakes - but she felt like a woman again.