2 comments/ 209171 views/ 2 favorites Hannah Ch. 1 By: 80niner Hannah Pennee leaned back, thin legs crossed in her extended, plush upholstered recliner. Holding a half filled wine glass, she breathed, shallowly into the phone. She rubbed her bare thighs together and enjoyed the warm, pressure-created moisture where they joined. "We called those little-boy-thangs dangling 'tween their legs, birds. That's what we called those nasty, little, wriggly worms that men sometimes play with." "Don't say," encouraged George, and what would you be calling a lady's little fuzzy-wuzzy when you was doing the nasty, down in the hills?" The older woman giggled. "Never held with using that p-word you're thinking. Thought it was dirty talk." "Pussy?" "You're naming a girl's thang that, not me. I'm warning you, I'm hanging up if you persist in talking dirty talk." George laughed. "I can tell you're eating up every word of it." Hannah tittered. "Am not." She took a deep sip of her wine. "So tell me, what did you folks call that sweet thaing you keep hid 'tween your legs?" "We called it l.c.. Stood for little cat." "You mean like in pussy cat." "I reckon that's the kind of tabby it refers to." The sixty-seven year old woman reached for the wine bottle and refilled her glass. "That's different from calling it, pussy?" "Comes across more genteel, I always thought," Hannah defended. "So back in them hills it was the birds and l.c.'s that got themselves together" "I'm telling you, that's what us folks called ‘em down thar." "And did your little l.c. grow curly hair like a city pussy?" Hannah tittered. "Am not." She took a deep sip of her wine. "So tell me, what did you folks call that sweet thaing you keep hid 'tween your legs?" The old woman cackled again. "Promise you won't laugh?" "I'll do my level best." "You know," Hannah whispered into the phone, "we shouldn't be discussing a lady's private thang like this." "I said I won't laugh." "We called it," Hannah cackled again, "l.c." "Elsie? Like a girl's name?" "The letters l. c. Stands for little cat." "You mean like in pussy cat." "I reckon that's the kind of tabby it refers to." The sixty-seven year old woman reached for the wine bottle and refilled her glass. "That's different from calling it, pussy?" "Comes across more genteel, I always thought," Hannah defended. "So back in them hills it was the birds and l.c.'s that got themselves together" "I'm telling you, that's what us folks called 'em down thar." "And did your little l.c. grow curly hair like a city pussy?" Hannah tittered, nervously. "I reckon there comes a time when most young ladies sprouted a curl or two." "I guess you was mighty proud of getting yours." "I reckon I was, some." "What we should do," said George, "is get together and get naked." "Over my dead body," whooped Hannah. "You're shocking the pants off me." "That's my aim. But I'd prefer your body live once we got those panties out of the way." "Well har-de-har-har. Ain't about to be happening." "Tell me," said George, "would you be showing me yourn if I was revealing mine to you?" "Well now," chuckled Hannah, "I'd have to think some about that." "For how long?" "About as long as it would take you to get me drunk enough for that to be happening and you can bet your filthy mind it ain't about to." "That's a dirty shame," pouted George. "I was thinking we might be having some fun, the both of us." "Well ho-ho-ho," chortled Hannah. "Of course you was. You're just working ways to get into this old ladies panties." "Can't deny that. But then we might both learn something." "Like how ugly an old body can be?" "I'd say the interesting parts don't change all that much," reckoned George. "But too many others do," persisted Hannah with a certain relish for the turn the conversation had taken. "I was speaking of those parts that needs some using to keep 'em in working order." "Presuming those parts are performing at the present." "Ain't had no complaints." "Har, har," teased Hannah. "I do believe I hear a bit of bragging seeping through." "Just the bare facts ma'am." "You might be talking bare facts, but you ain't about to see none of mine. But I suppose you've got an inkling of what's there." "Reckon I'd be eyeing some prime pussy," chuckled George. "Speaking of which, I got to confess, I've never seen me a nearly seventy year old pussy." Hannah gasped at his impudence. "Well, I never. . ." "Reckon you could if you was to look in a mirror." "Well you ain't viewing nothing private of mine. Besides," said Hannah, "Like I told you, that's not what they called a lady's privacy where I was growing up." "Always was a pussy lover," purred George. "L.c. is more refined," persisted Hannah. "Anyway, seen one l.c. you've seen Ôem all." "Way I heard it there ain't no two alike, sorta like fingerprints." "Do tell?" "Interesting theory, don't you think, pussy prints stead of fingerprints." "You got a warped mind and that's a fact. I don't know what I'm going to do with you." "I know what I'd enjoy doing with you." Hannah tittered. "No don't you dare be saying that nasty word to me." "Now what word would that be?" "Would it be all right if I whispered it your ear?" "Would not!" "What if I was to whisper, 'screw'?" "Now you get out of here. I'm too old for such foolishness. You should be ashamed." "Come on, now," teased George. "You're enjoying the hell out of our little talks." "Am not." "Then why haven't you hung up on me?" Hannah tittered, softly. "Now you know that wouldn't be polite. Ladies don't hang up on gentleman callers. "Well think about what I said." "I'll be doing that." "We'll be talking some more." "Reckon we will." "Might get into a little phone sex next time." What ever that is." "Reckon we'll know when it happens." Hannah giggled girlishly. "Could be, some of that might be going on without the other knowing about it." "You confessing?" "That wouldn't be ladylike." "Little cats crave a bit of petting. You saying you pet yours." "Good Gar! Are you intimating I'd play with myself?" "Don't tell me you never got off that way." "Ain't admitting nothing." Hannah hesitated. "I'm thinking this conversation should come to an end. You're taking things too far." "When I was a boy, they told me I'd go blind." "And you been wearing glasses ever since," tittered Hannah. I don't reckon that caused you to stop." "Not so you could notice," admitted George. "And how long has your sight been on the decline?" "We ain't talking about me." "Bet you ain't never stopped petting that little patch of fur, neither." Hannah giggled. "Even if I done what you're intimating, I'd never admit to doing that." "Do tell?" "So tell me," tittered Hannah, "Does that old bird of yours grow some from all this nasty talking you're dishing out?" "If I told you, that would be admitting to doing phone sex with you." Hannah giggled. "Wouldn't that be shameful as all get out, people our age involved anything so nasty?" "Sounds entertaining as hell." "Would you be endangering your eyesight at this very minute?" "Considering the direction the conversation's turned, it's possible" "Dirty talking is what I'm calling it." "You're eating it up." Hannah muffled another giggle. "Am not." "What I'm wondering. . . No I'd better not say it." "You've gone this far, go on, spit it out." "What I was wondering is, if you got your fingers inside or outside your panties." "Good gar! You've got yourself a nerve." "Are you answering it?" Hannah giggled naughtily. "What makes you think I'm still wearing some?" "Spoken like a true lady," laughed George. "More talk like this and I'll let the old boy see daylight for sure." "My, my. How you do talk." "Hey, for all you know he's been giving me a one-eyed stare since this conversation heated up." Hannah cleared her throat. "That might be about the time my panties hit the floor if truth was to be told." "You kicked 'em off?" "Reckon I'll admit to that." "I reckon that thought makes my bird stand up a bit stronger right now," admitted George. "Like to come over for a peek?" "It might be interesting, viewing your nasty in that condition." "I'd like a look-see at that hairy crotch you're calling little cat." Hannah cackled. "Now would you for a bare fact?" "I been wondering how much kinky curls your l.c.'s hiding under." Hannah tittered. "That's for me to be knowing." "This old sixty-niner is itching to find out." Whee-whoo! How you do talk. Did you say you was sixty-nine?" "Sixty-nine is a game." "You don't say." "It 's more like do, do." "Dodo what?" "Maybe tonguing your hairy old twat." "Good Gar! You wouldn't dare!" "Bet your sweet ass I would," breathed George. "Watch your language," gasped Hannah. "You don't know nothing about my ass." "Still betting it's sweet," said George. "Bet your pussy makes honey too." Hannah giggled in spite of herself. "Reckon you won't find out." "Sure could go for a sample," panted George. Hannah whooped. "Good Gar. Don't you ever get enough?" George laughed. "Last few years I ain't been getting none." "You old reprobate, that's not what I meant." "Show me a sixty-seven year old pussy and I'll raise you a sixty-four year old six inches, now I'd call that a showdown." "Might happen at the Rock Hard-on Cafe," she giggled. "Hannah! I'm surprised at you. How long's it been since you cast your eyes on an honest-to-god boner?" "Been a while," she admitted. "How long since you sprouted one?" "Since I been thinking about what your shaggy old l.c. must look like." Hannah giggled. "Evil," she whispered, "You're pure evil." "Just sitting here diddling my dong and wondering how it will be before one of us gets off." "I ain't sure doing this is all too good for an old gal's heart." Hannah sucked in a deep breath. "I ain't sure how long I can go on talking, the way this is turning out. It a good thing I'm sitting down." "Yeah. I'm getting close too." "You're figuring to make a big squirt when when that bird goes off?" "You bet your hairy l.c.," said George. "I'd I'd let you watch if I could watch you." "That'd be a banner occasion," reckoned Hannah. "My place or yours?" teased George. "Just looking," whispered Hannah, "no touching." "If that's how you want it." I got to admit'" said Hannah, "it ain't the display of my l.c. that'd bother me so much, it'd be showing off of my scrawny butt and skinnny legs." "Guess I ain't got nothing to write home about in that department," said George. "Don't figure it's my legs you'd be interested in." "Not if your thang is throwing a boner, it ain't." "You could bet on that," chuckled George. "Never happen," declared Hannah. She tittered. "I'd need to be some drunker than I am now." "I got a jug chilling in the Fridge," said George.." *** Hannah stood on George's front porch two mornings later, a covered plate in her hand. George opened the front door to the painfully slender lady. "Hope I interrupted something you shouldn't be doing, nohow." Hannah beamed on the other side of the stormdoor. "Just pulling my pud, like I do daily," grinned George. "Good Gar! How you do talk." Hannah shook her head and suppressed a smile. "I swear, you was born to spout nasty thoughts." "Always happy to share." George, smiling broadly, held the door open. "C'mon in and squat awhile." "Brung you something to nibble on. Baked a batch of oatmeal cookies early this a.m. and thought you might like a taste." She smiled coyly. "Cookies that is." He held the storm door open. "Well come on in, you old bat. I ain't going to rape you." "Har!" Hannah giggled girlishly. "That don't leave much incentive for a lady to come in." She brushed past him and walked into the small living room. George leered at her small bosom as she passed. He nodded to the sofa. "Take a load off." "Might set a spell," chirped Hannah, "long as your nasty talking don't get too far out-a-line." Hannah, rail thin and nearing seventy, was attired in loose, mismatched sweats. The frizzy red hair framing her wrinkled face was a shade too bright and sparcer than she would have liked. She sat on the edge of George's sofa as though ready to jump up and leave at a moment's warning. "Nice weather we been having." "Weather's not something topping my list of priorities," snorted George. "What might be topping that list of yours?" "That subject we was mulling over t'other day." "Don't remember mentioning anything of particular importance," said Hannah, with a sly smile. "We was mentioning the good feelings and --" George nodded toward her loose sweats. "You wearing panties under them rags?" "Har har. Now that's for me to know." "And me to find out?" "Har. Never said that." "I was wondering, considering what we last spoke about." "That was strictly phone talk, not doing talk," said Hannah. "You might say it was phone sex, we was having," said George. "Do tell? That's funny I didn't feel a thing," snickered Hannah. "You didn't tickle your fancy even a little?" "You leave my fancy out of this." A smile crept over her face. "Tuesday, you was calling it your l.c.," teased George and we was talking about shining a little light on the subject." "Well," snorted Hannah, "Don't be getting your hopes up." She paused a moment. "Or anything else for that matter." "Well now. . ." "I do recall your mentioning a chilled jug in your fridge," interrupted Hannah, " but I don't see you offering some." "Pardon me all to hell." George jumped up and limped to the kitchen. He returned with two glasses filled to the brim with chiled Rhine wine. Hannah accepted hers and, little finger extended, sipped ladylike. She patted her frizzy, short-bobbed, red hair. "Now that hits the spot." She was not, George noted, a bad looking old dame for her age. "We was talking about tickling your fancy," said George. "You was, not me," said snorted Hannah. "Last time we talked, you was showing an interest in mine and how it was shaping up from our honest talk." "You say that was phone sex you say we indulged in?" asked Hannah. "Was pretty sexy for me, like I told you." George absently scratched the front of is pants. Hannah nodded. "I reckon it t'weren't too bad for phone talk. Maybe I should traipse home and you might could give me a call." "Your glass is empty. Let me get you a refill." Hannah extended her empty glass. "Reckon another dab wouldn't hurt." George refilled their glasses, returned and tilted back in his chair. "Looked you was limping," said Hannah. "You hurt your leg or something?" "Hrmmp." grunted George. "I sometime walk funny when I'm growing a boner." Hannah shrugged a nonchalance she did not feel. "Don't look too imposing from here at the moment." She looked across to George leaning back in his recliner. "But I do think I'm seeing a hint of your bird pushing against your sweats," she snickered. "It's trying to show off, real brazen like." George's fingers outlined the enlongated tube at his crotch, pressing the gray material around it until the shape and size was clearly evident. "Was this what you're referring to?" He squeezed the semi-turgid memeber. "Still pretty soft." He grinned. "He ain't reached hard reality as yet." "Now what would be causing something like that?" Hannah to hide a wry smile. She shifted her position on the couch and crossed her thin legs. "You mean this conversation is getting to you a little bit?" "I was recalling t'other's day conversation and hoping you might be ready to uncover that little l.c. of yourn?" "Well I'm not!" " I'm referring to them cute, curly hairs you're hiding" said George." "I know what you're referring to," said Hannah. "You shouldn't be mentioning a lady's female thang in mixed company." "Mixed company is that what we are?" smiled George. His fingers massaged the edges of the projection "What about you showing me the shape of yours?" "Showing the shape of my what?" "That hairy twat you got 'tween them skinny legs. I been thinking a lot about your pussy lately. Specially when we're talking on the phone." "Well now," tittered Hannah. "Don't know whether that's a complement or an insult." Hannah batted her eyes and looked away. "Would you be referring to my l.c.?" "Your pussy is what I was thinking about" "I prefer l.c. like we menntioned on the phone." "I reckon I'd rather see yourn than talk about it." Hannah nodded. "Might could do what you're doing." She uncrossed her legs and opened her thighs. Her hands grasped the cloth at either side of her crotch and pulled the material tightly across the center and barely displayed the center crease of her sex. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?" "It'd be more to the point if you was to slip out of them pants and bare it, hairy crack and all." "You're so romantic. Hannah giggled girlishly. "I swear, George, you get nastier every time you open your filthy mouth." Hannah tried to resist smiling. "You're loving this. Break down and admit it." Hannah giggled, girlishly, "Am not." "I'm thinking we should get down to brass tacks." "Now what would that be?" "Revealing cock and pussy." "Them words are dirty-dirty. I should never give you them initials for a lady's private place." "So are you gonna be showing that place where your pee comes out?" "So nasty." Hannah shook her head, it seened, regretfully."That's all I do with it, as you got to know, is pee and ladies don't mention passing their water in polite society." "I understand there's more pleasurable feelings to be got 'tween them hairy lips." "Stop it! Good Gawd! How you talk." "It's called fucking." "I've told you, I don't hold with saying the "f" word. If I ever done what you're implying, it weren't called that. We said it was screwing." "There's a difference?" "Can't say tis or tain't. When a man thang was put to a lady, it was called screwing. That f-word weren't used." "I guess you don't say cock, neither." "What men's got 'tween their legs, like I told you, was called birds, whar I come from." "Don't talking about your l.c. turn you on some?" Hannah glanced across the small room to focus on his lap. A rather nasty grin turned up the corners of her thin lips. "I reckon this conversation's made your bird swell up some more by now." "Want I should show you?" "Now I wouldn't go so far as to admitting to that. I figure talking sex is a fur piece from doing." "Your little fur piece is what I'm itching to see." "I'm just betting you are." "I'll drop my pants if you'll step out of yours." She giggled. "I figure you're just the men ornery enough to do it." "And you ain't." Hannah put her hand to her mouth and mock whispered, "I reckon I'd have to be a mite drunker than this." "There's more wine in the fridge." Hannah licked her lips. "Maybe just another little short one.." George went to the kitchen and made no effort to hide the bulge in his pants. He returned with the jug and filled her glass. "Here's to it." "If I was to do what you're suggesting, you'd be wanting to put that big, nasty thang up me for sure." He grinned. "Not unless you was begging me for it." Her smile grew broader. She moistened her lips with a pointed tongue that exaggerated the gesture. "You really got a big one?" "Bout normal, I'd say. Maybe seven inches on a good day." Hannah said, "Ooooh. That'd be a lot, I'd guess." George licked his lips. "Are you teasing with me?" "Maybe," she hesitated a moment. "But I still ain't fixing to get involved in doing any messy sex stuff with you." Hannah Ch. 10 It was Friday night and Tom was in the elevator on his way up to their apartment. It had been a hard week at work with difficult negotiations with banks and investors and he desperately needed to wind down. In the past that would have meant a bottle of wine and then on to the spirits, but not anymore. He knew that Hannah had something planned for them and that she would soon take him to a whole new world of fantasy and escapism. Hannah was constantly thinking up new games and ways to explore their shared passion. She had recently introduced a new game that had made Tom more focused than usual on his girlfriend's underwear. It had started a few weeks back, after they had made love together. Hannah had been picking up her clothes, which as usual had ended up all over the bedroom, when she had decided to put her dirty knickers over Tom's head. The elastic material had clung to his face and moulded itself around his features. Hannah had run her fingers over them, exploring how the material clung to every chiselled contour. She had felt herself becoming more and more aroused and had ordered Tom to leave them on his head until the morning. Given that it was already 1am and he was exhausted, he had happily compiled. When Tom had awoken the next morning, everything still looked dark and blurry through her black panties. Hannah was cuddling up to him and he kissed her on the lips. She kissed back, even though she was actually kissing her own underwear. "Permission to remove your panties?" She had hugged him more tightly and shook her head. It was just another secret that they shared, one that no-one else would ever know. A successful guy, an attractive, slightly shy woman, a social couple. But no-one would ever understand the real magic in their relationship. While Hannah would only choose to play this particular game once or twice a week, timing was completely at her discretion. Every day Tom would admire her outfit and wonder what was underneath and what that might feel, smell and taste like. Every night just before they turned out the light, Tom knew that his world might become filtered through the brunette's used underwear, still warm as the elastic pulled tight over his face. Not that Tom minded at all, and he had on occasion he had felt a little disappointed when she placed all her clothes in the washing basket instead. The underwear felt nice on his face, her beautiful scent giving him a permanent reminder as he drifted to asleep. It also felt nice to be claimed, to be wanted by someone so beautiful. Hannah loved Tom's obedience, knowing that once positioned, he would never remove them until morning. She would look at him as he lay next to her and see a physical demonstration of his complete trust and commitment to her. Added to that, the anticipation of what she might do with her panties when she returned home from work, aroused and distracted her throughout the day. In private, she would rub her hands over her butt and imagine his fate. Some mornings Hannah would stand in front of the full length mirror teasing Tom while trying on different underwear. Tom would watch with interest and amusement. 'Do you think you'll be able to breathe in these, sweetheart?' Or, 'would you prefer cotton or silk tonight, honey?' She also enjoyed sending him regular updates throughout the day and sometimes even photos of the garment in question. Tom had joking offered to but her some g-strings, which would have both revealed much more of her butt and have been less all encompassing around his face. After a playful smack on his hand, she had instead threatened to buy even tighter underwear in future. The elevator doors opened and Tom's thoughts returned to what she might have planned for him this particular Friday evening. Wearing his suit without a tie and his shirt undone a couple of buttons, he walked through the front door and stopped and stared. It was Hannah, but he had to look twice to make sure. She was standing in the middle of the open plan living area dressed as an air hostess. She was wearing a long blonde wig, which hung down over her shoulders and her makeup was much heavier than usual, particularly around her big brown eyes. Hannah stood in front of him, one hand on her hip as he studied her outfit. She was wearing a red skirt suit with gold insignia over a white blouse. The jacket was buttoned halfway up and was tightly pleated around her waist. The skirt was mid thigh length with a slit halfway up the back. It was tight, and curved over and around her butt. She wore stockings and black suede heels. The outfit was finished off with a small red hat with the same gold insignia. "Good evening sir, welcome aboard," Hannah said in a slight accent. Tom was still staring. She was even wearing different perfume. "Wow, it really doesn't look like you." "I'm sorry sir?" Hannah had positioned chairs in a row to recreate an aeroplane. She showed Tom to a chair that they had recent bought at an art market. It was like a regular dining chair, but made from curved pieces of wrought iron. It was incredibly heavy, something Tom knew well after having carried it from the market and back to their car. "Can I get you a drink, sir?" "A beer would be great." Tom watched Hannah walk to the fridge, it really was a tight skirt. This was his kind of role play, beer and a sexy outfit, although he knew that Hannah wouldn't be this accommodating for long. He watched as she turned and a mischievous smile crossed her face. "I'm sorry sir, but we've had a complaint about your behaviour," Hannah said seriously as she returned without his beer, but with plastic zip ties in her hand. "What?" "And under flight regulations I'm afraid I will have to restrain you for the remainder of the flight." It was as if the words were being spoken by a stranger. The play acting, the voice, the hair and the outfit all seemed very real. "I'll have to ask you to put your hands on your arm rests sir." Tom looked up and smiled, but the serious look on Hannah's face soon made him stop. "I hope you're not going to resist." "Resist?" Resisting any order from Hannah was near impossible for Tom. He positioned his arms as instructed and watched as she tightened the plastic straps around his wrists and the metal frame of the chair. "That's quite tight." That was the wrong thing to say, as Hannah then tightened them further. And as she did so, she couldn't help but smile. She then crouched down carefully because of the tight skirt, and used two more zip ties to secure his ankles to the chair legs. Within seconds Tom was helpless. "Sorry sir, let me get your beer." Hannah curtseyed slightly, turned and walked back to the fridge. She returned and placed the beer bottle in Tom's restrained hand. "Very amusing, umm.... 'blonde Hannah'!" Hannah giggled, dropping her act for a moment. She then sat down on his lap, turned her head and kissed Tom. Wow. She always found that the more she restrained him, the more passionate his kisses. She assumed that was simply because under such circumstances it was even more important to please her. "I don't think the airline would approve," he smiled kissing back. Hannah ignored him and positioned a stool in front of Tom's chair and sat down facing him. "Crew please be seated for landing," she giggled. She looked down at Tom from her much higher stool, crossed her legs and ran her tongue around her lips. Her boring week at work was now completely forgotten, as she completely immersed herself in yet another fantasy with her fantastic guy. Tom could feel the pressure build inside the chastity cage. Shit, how he wanted to take her right there and then. He really struggled against the zip ties and watched as Hannah unsuccessfully tried to hide her arousal. Hannah uncrossed her legs and opened them as far as the skirt would allow. She watched him carefully, a teasing look in her eyes. Tom was strong, and right then was using all of his strength against the zip cuffs. He knew that if he could break free, then she was his. He would pick up the blonde air hostess, carry her into the bedroom and do whatever he wanted with her. He knew from experience that she would love whatever he did. Hannah continued to watch him struggle. She had Googled how much force was required to break the zip ties and so knew that he hadn't a hope. She pulled her skirt halfway up her thighs and opened her legs a little wider. Hannah eventually stood and pulled her skirt back down. She carefully tilted Tom's chair backwards and lowered it on to the floor. Hannah then walked back and forth, her heels only an inch from where Tom's head rested. "Red panties as well, you really are a company girl," he observed, having good reason to pay attention the blonde's underwear. Hannah looked down at his strong, restrained body, his eyes were following her every movement, his lips slightly apart with anticipation. The urge to pull up her skirt and kneel down over his mouth was almost too much to resist. It reminded her of some of the things she did when she was younger. She would often take a soft toy, or even an old doll, and tie its hands and feet together with a ribbon or belt or whatever she had to hand. Then, wearing her briefest underwear and with her pretend victim lying on her bed, she'd sit on top of it, her legs open, her victims head just sticking out between her thighs. With one hand, she'd pull its head into her crotch and massage it from side to side. Her old teddy bear's face was now very worn, although no one, not even Tom knew why. Once finished, she would stay sitting on her prey, talking to it, pretending that beneath her was the man of her dreams. She'd brush her long hair, continually looking down between her legs at the helpless toy. Now her toy was real and it really was the man of her dreams. "Hannah?" Tom could tell that her mind was wondering. She stopped walking and knelt down by his head, again careful of her tight skirt. She could feel the cheap polyester of the uniform sliding against her silk underwear. It felt nice and she moved her hips from side to side to feel it again. Would she use that on him tonight? Possibly. She saw that Tom was still holding his beer and amazingly hadn't spilt a drop, even when she'd tipped him backwards on to the floor. She took the bottle from Tom's hand and slowly poured a little into his open mouth. He automatically smiled. What was it with guys and beer? She poured some more, but a little too quickly and he coughed. "Oh I'm sorry." He coughed again and went slightly red in the face, but soon recovered and opened his mouth for more. "It's good to see that blonde Hannah is so considerate." "Don't speak too soon!" "I guess it's all relative, brunette Hannah can be a right sadistic bitch." Hannah reacted instinctively with a slight intake of breathe. Damn! She knew Tom was just teasing her. And now he was smiling. Shit. "Careful mister, look where you are and where I am." "Yes?" "If I don't release you, how long will you stay tied to that chair?" "I'm cool." "How long?" Tom thought about the question for a moment and then struggled again against his bonds, she was right, he was helpless. "I could leave you tied to the chair all weekend!" "I could call for help." "And I could gag you... you know what with." They both loved these conversations and they watched each other intently for a few moments. Hannah then stood back up with one foot either side of his head. "I know that brunette Hannah would never agree to this, but could you unlock the chastity cage?" "And you think I will?" She looked down at him. Which way would she play it? She pulled down his boxers. "This outfit really works for you, doesn't it?" Hannah walked over to her handbag and picked up her key ring, which these days held over twenty keys. She jangled them like a medieval jailer above him. She then crouched down so that her butt rested gently on his face and unlocked the steel cage. "Don't get used to this treatment, brunette Hannah will be back soon." Seeing an opportunity for a little fun, Tom used his head to nudge Hannah's hips, which made her lose her balance and she had to use her hands to stop herself falling over. She stood up and placed one shoe next to his now unprotected balls. "Please no!" "Don't worry, I have a better plan. A return trip in the cargo hold." Tom looked confused as Hannah walked into their bedroom and out of sight. Once there, she couldn't resist the chance to touch her butt in the tight shiny skirt. When she finally returned, she wheeled behind her a very large suitcase. She laid it down next to him and started to unzip. "Borrowed it from Kate, what do you think?" "You'll never fit the chair in." "I'm going to release you from that, you fool!" "Then I might run away." "And miss out on the delights of being locked inside a suitcase by blonde Hannah? Who's very considerate by all accounts." Hannah took some scissors and effortlessly released Tom from the zip ties. She then undressed him and down to his boxers ran her hands over his body. Shit, she didn't want to wait too much longer. Tom could see that look in her eyes and ran his fingers up the inside of her skirt. Hannah moaned with pleasure, almost passing the point of no return, but pulled away just in time. Following directions, Tom squeezed into the suitcase and Hannah folded the lid over on top of him. This was already turning her on and she hadn't even zipped him up yet. She knelt on the lid as she started to pull the zips closed. "Aha, you're all done up!" However the two zips just happened to be by Tom's hands and using his finger tips, he started to pull one open. "Hey, stop it!" "Brunette Hannah would never make that kind of mistake." "Right I'm going to padlock you in." Tom could hear Hannah run to the bedroom. He could have unzipped himself, but being padlocked inside seemed like more fun. He heard her heels clip back and saw the zip slide shut again. A second later he heard a little click. "Try and get out of that, Houdini," she breathed as she stood back to watch. Tom tried the zips again. He pulled one, but the other zip moved with it. He then pulled one zip one way and the other zip the other way. Nothing. He was hit by the usual shiver of excitement. Hannah pulled the keys from the small padlock and let them drop to the floor. She carefully sat down on one end of the suitcase, on top of where his head would be, and put her legs out in front of her across the lid. "That's a bit mean of blonde Hannah, isn't it?" she giggled as she wriggled herself above him. Tom tried to push her off balance, but with almost no room for him to move, Hannah sat there easily able to ride his limited efforts. She stayed sitting on top of him until he was exhausted and lay motionless beneath her. She then jumped up, there was only one more thing she wanted to do before she let him go free. She kicked off her high heels and after a struggle managed to lift the suitcase up on to its end and started to pull it across the room. "Hey where are we going?" "The cargo hold of the next flight back!" "What?" Hannah put on her running shoes and dragged the suitcase out of the apartment, along the corridor and into the lift. Once they arrived in the basement, she wheeled the case over to their walk in storage locker. She unlocked the barred door and wheeled him inside. She positioned the case between their own suitcases and threw an old sheet over all three items of luggage. She then sat down on Tom's case and described to Tom his predicament. "That bitch, blonde Hannah, is going to leave you here." Tom was breathing hard with anticipation. Hannah was trembling with excitement and couldn't keep her hands off her own legs. Fortunately there was no one who could see her. "But luckily for you, brunette Hannah may let you out at the other end. Assuming of course blonde Hannah doesn't take the keys to the suitcase with her..." Tom cried out in pleasure. Hannah smiled, she more than felt the same way. "Will brunette Hannah wear the red skirt?" "From time to time," she smiled. Unable to control herself any longer, Hannah left the locker, padlocking it as she went. As quickly as possible in the tight skirt, Hannah ran back to the apartment and stripped off the uniform. She would have a head start tonight, but Tom wouldn't be far behind. Back in the locker it was dark and silent, the air was cool, although the temperature inside the suitcase was rising. Tom felt for the zip and managed to push one finger through to the outside. He felt the small luggage padlock. He tried to pull it open, he would love to see the look on Hannah's face if he could get out. Although five minutes later he had given up. He would still be inside the suitcase when she returned. He really hoped that she wouldn't keep him waiting for long. Only ten minutes later, a slim brunette in white cotton shorts and fitted pink t-shirt casually walked into the basement. A bunch of keys in her hand, a smile on her face. Hannah Ch. 11 It was Saturday morning and already 10am. They had been at a friend's house until past midnight and hadn't got to sleep until gone two in the morning. Tom was still tired and slightly hung over, but this would hopefully be a very big day. As he started to focus, he checked to make sure that he was free of chastity cage, panties and anything else that Hannah might have used on him. For once he was unrestrained. He looked at Hannah who was cuddling up against his chest with her long brown hair sprayed out in almost 360 degrees around her head. He kissed her, eased out of her embrace and got up to get some water. By the time he returned, Hannah was kneeling on the bed, completely naked, with her big brown eyes watching him. "What shall we do today?" "It's a secret," Tom replied as he bent over to kiss her. "Tell me!" Hannah pulled him on to the bed and sat astride his chest, she would keep him pinned here until she had an answer. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the muscles. "You'll find out soon enough, sweetheart." "Tell me!" Tom rolled Hannah off, took her by the hand and led her in the shower and turned on the hot water. When they were done, he carried her out of the shower, with her legs wrapped around him, and deposited the cute brunette on the bed. He then opened Hannah's wardrobe and lay his favourite yellow dress on the bed next to her. She had worn that dress the first time she had offered to be a dominatrix, the memory of which was still very clear in Tom's mind. She had also worn the dress on other occasions where she had wanted to be at her most persuasive, such as when she'd locked him in a safe. Without stopping for breakfast or even coffee, Tom took Hannah by the hand and led her down to the underground parking garage. "Let's take my car, I'll drive." Hannah said. The very thought of Hannah's car with its built in smother box turned Tom on and he was already getting hard simply from her suggestion. They would take her car, but Tom would drive for now. He sat in the driver's seat, with the hole beneath him that was usually filled with his head, now filled with a cushion. Tom started the car and drove out of the garage and then out of the city. He looked across at his girlfriend. Her initial excitement of dressing up and Tom taking her somewhere as a surprise was now tempered by the fact that he was driving. She sat on the 'regular' passenger seat, wishing that she he was underneath her, kissing her, massaging her, making it almost impossible for her to drive. Maybe he was starting to lose interest in that, maybe he was starting to lose interest in her. She hadn't locked him in chastity before they left and he hadn't even reminded her. She crossed her legs and arms and looked silently out of the window. Maybe she was crazy to think that he'd like her and her games forever. Half an hour later they arrived at a restaurant perched on the side of a hill, overlooking the coastline. The waitress smiled at Tom as they walked in, but then that wasn't unusual. The waitress led them to a private room furthest from the bar, showed them inside and then closed the door behind them. Hannah walked over to the balcony and looked down over the steep cliff edge to the water beneath. She was about to speak when she turned around and saw Tom on one knee in front of her. "Oh my God!" she held both hands to her mouth. "Good to see you're playing it cool." Hannah didn't react for a few moments, but then walked closer until her dress was almost touching his face. "Will you marry me?" he asked. Hannah put her hands to her mouth again and turned away for a moment and then back to face him. Tom looked up at her almost uncontainable excitement. All she had to do now was to say yes, but then Hannah was never that accommodating or straightforward and would never pass up a chance to tease. "You realised that you would be condemning yourself to a life of.... well, slavery!" "Slavery? I hardly think so." "You don't know what I have in mind." "That's true, but..." "And complete obedience." "I'm looking forward to that," he smiled. Hannah had now recomposed herself, which Tom knew would only make his task harder. She always took advantage of her power over him and he guessed that his proposition would be no exception. Hannah checked that the waitress wasn't in sight before lifting her dress. "Hannah?" She stepped forward and dropped the dress back down with Tom's head now inside. She could be crazy, but that was just one of the million reasons that he was so desperate to marry this fantastic girl. He gently kissed the front of her knickers. Surely no other guy in the history of the world had had to resort to this while proposing. Hannah knew her answer, but even at a time like this she wanted to exert her power. His kisses felt fantastic. What must he be thinking inside there? How long could she keep him waiting under her dress? At all costs she had to accept his offer before he changed his mind. Hannah stepped back so that her dress pulled away from his head. She looked down at his hopeful eyes, "Yes, I will!" Tom jumped up and hugged her, lifting her off her feet and swinging her around. After kissing for a few more minutes the waitress coyly opened the door to give them the wine list. Tom studied the list and quickly ordered. He then asked the waitress for directions to the bathroom. Hannah was sitting at the table, bouncing her legs excitedly under the table when Tom returned and sat down opposite her. Shit, he was sexy, could they do it here? Tom then dropped a small key on to the table in front of her. "You forgot to lock me up this morning." "Yes I did." Hannah smiled, she always seemed to feel happier when his cock was in lock down. She hurriedly picked up the key, knocking her fork as she did so. She slipped it underneath her and sat down on top. "I guess today of all days you should own me," he smiled. The conversation stopped as they both took in their new relationship. "I've always wanted a house with a dungeon," Hannah finally said, almost to herself. "With a prison cell? "Yes, with steel bars and a big padlock on the door," Hannah fantasised. "And a pool table?" "No!" Hannah gave Tom her sternest look before they both laughed. Tom refilled their glasses and they both studied the menu. Hannah looked up, thinking hard. "I probably keep you chained or cuffed for three or four hours a day.....umm, so you would be imprisoned for five years out of the next thirty!" Tom put down the menu and thought about her love of putting her dirty underwear over his head at night, often a couple of times a week. "And I will have your panties over my face for maybe three year." Hannah blushed and put her wine glass to her lips. The idea was both sexy and crazy at the same time. They spent the next three hours in their private dining room, eating, drinking, talking, kissing. By the time they left, a storm was building out to sea. Tom drove as they travelled up the coast to a remote house only fifty metres back from the coast. Once at the house, they changed and then Tom led Hannah back out and down the steep path to the beach. He was in board shorts and white t-shirt. She was in a short white flowery summer dress that reached halfway down her thighs, but the wind from the building storm meant that it blew up constantly revealing white cotton underwear. In her hand she carried a pair of cuffs, although Tom doubted that there would be much to cuff him to on the deserted, windswept beach. They reached the beach and Tom picked her up and gave her a piggyback down to the water. Hannah laughed, wriggled and hugged him tightly as he pretended to drop her off in to the ocean. When he finally put her down on the beach, she was looking very sexy and determined. "Come with me!" she shouted over the noise of the water and the wind. She took his hand and led him up to the back of the beach. Hannah had seen an old metal sign which she thought would easily be strong enough to secure her fiancé. She positioned Tom next to it and pulled his hands behind his back and chained them around the metal post. Her face was inches away from his, her long hair blowing out in front so that it touched his face. He studied her excited features, her dancing eyes, her perfect lips that looked as though they were about to kiss, her pert nose that looked just a tiny bit posh. She looked at him, amazed as always that someone so good looking should be so madly in love with her. He looked particularly rugged in the wind and she couldn't help but kiss him. It was still hot and the humidity was even higher, a sure sign that the storm was approaching. It was starting to rain with heavy drops of water falling. Hannah threw her hands up and danced in front of her helpless guy. Her dress was now soaked and she pulled it off over her head and it blew away before landing on the sand in front of Tom. Hannah walked seductively up to him, removing her wet bra and underwear as she moved. She pulled down his shorts to reveal the locked chastity cage. "Oh damn!" she cried. "What?" "Wait here!" Tom stood helplessly as Hannah, now completely naked, ran back up the steep path to the house. He watched her pert butt bounce away and out of sight. The rain was getting harder and the wind stronger, although he still felt hot, due in part to his incredible girlfriend. Five minutes later Hannah ran back and this time Tom watched her modest, pert breasts bouncing around. She knelt down in front of him and quickly unlocked the padlock and freed his cock. "Hannah, my hands," he reminded her as he shook the manacles. Hannah was already climbing on him and positioning herself to make love, but without him to hold her it was too hard. "Lie down," she ordered. With Tom still chained to the post, they lay side by side on the sand and making out over and over. They were both drenched by the rain and the noise of the wind and the water was deafening. After a while when Tom was exhausted, Hannah knelt astride his head and pulled him as close in to her as she could. The wind and rain only added to Hannah's appetite. She tasted slightly salty, they both did as the spray from the sea covered them repeated. When Hannah finally released him from her thighs, she cuddled up against his chest, sheltering from the wind. She felt safe and protected beside him, even though he was still helplessly chained up. She held him tight, showing no intention of moving. "Hannah, where are the cuff keys?" he called. Hannah nestled into him more tightly as they heard thunder in the distance. The storm was definitely getting closer. The evening light was now starting to fade. "Hannah!" His fiancé reluctantly stood up, with one foot either side of his body and looked around. As she did so, lightning lit up her lithe, naked body. She then skipped over him and went to retrieve the key from the pocket of her sodden dress. Tom lay exhausted in the sand as he looked up into the driving rain to see Hannah's naked form above him, swinging the keys from her fingertip. "Fancy staying here for the rest of the storm? Or would you like to come to bed with me?" "Bed! Please." Hannah put her hands on her hips and looked down at him. "Hannah!" Tom smiled to himself. Marrying Hannah was in many ways like being chained on a beach in a storm; a little crazy, sometimes frustrating, occasionally dangerous and painfully, but always wildly exciting. Hannah dropped down on to his body, her wet hair hanging down, and released him from her cuffs. They ran back up to the house and into the shower, the water falling on to their already soaked bodies. This would be a night to remember. Hannah Ch. 1 "But you are admitting to your curiosity?" Hannah looked up to meet his eyes. "I might be inclined to take a little gander if you're showing." "And you'll drop your panties?" Hannah fidgeted, crossed and uncrossed her thin legs. "No touching. Just looking?" "If you say so." "So who's gonna go first? ThereÔs not much down there any man might care to look at for long." "Well c'mon. Give old George his peek anyway." Hannah giggled nervously. "Aren't we awful?" "Like a couple of overage kids." "You make these old bones feel strange and that's a fact." "Too much talk," said George. "Are you showing it or not?" Hannah nodded. "I'm working up my courage, you needn't be that blunt about it." George stood and lowered his zipper. He reached in and flipped out his semi-erect member and swung it back and forth. "Here's mine." Hannah's hand came to her mouth. "You know, the honest-to-god's truth? I ain't seen one of them thangs in over 30 years." She could not lift her eyes from George's crotch. "Come on," urged George. Drop your panties and watch this baby grow." Hannah leaned forward for a better view . "Good Gar, man ain't there supposed to be balls or something attached to that thing?" George unbuckled his belt. His pants fell to his ankles. "Balls and all." "Not bad legs, for a man that is," observed Hannah. George took his semi rigid cock in hand and drew back the foreskin to reveal the purplish-pink head. "Reckon I've seen a few thangs in my younger days and that one stands out right nice?" "It might swell some more if you was to get around to showing off that old parsley patch you're cultivating 'tween them scrawny legs." "Hannah looked over the tops of her bifocals and licked her lips. "Don't be getting your balls in an uproar." "I'm covering up unless you're making your move." Hannah stood and hooked her thumbs in the elastic waist-band of her loose-fitting sweats and pushed down slightly. She bit on her lower lip. "Hasn't been a man that's laid eyes on these parts in thirty years." "So you wasn't wearing panties," croaked George. "I sometimes don't," said Hannah. "Now you know." She shoved harder. "Here goes nothing." The sweats fell to her ankles. She stood awkwardly, hands on hips, holding her breath. The overly white skin stretched, with few wrinkles, over her bony thighs and sparse calves to thin ankles. Her buttocks were smoothly rounded but not prominent. Hannah displayed what she had always referred to as a boy's butt. The slender thighs joined angularly at her torso. The thick, reddish-brown triangle covered more of a slightly rounded belly than one would expect on a figure so slight. The wiry mass was sprinkled with more than a few grayish white curls. Down her center, below her slightly rounded belly and the hairy delta lay the groove of her femininity, a crack in the middle of that puffed-out fig where the pouting inner lips protruded beyond the outer ones. There, before him, totally exposed was Hannah's pussy, her cunt, the place she referred to as her little l.c.. If one covered her head, few would guess her over fifty. It remained a body capable of giving any man over forty a hard-on. "Reckon it ain't the prettiest one you ever saw in your long life." Hannah pulled her shoulders back to make her breasts rise on her meager chest under her loose sweatshirt. "Not much of an attraction to be matching that thang you got pointing out 'tween your legs" "You know I've never seen a 67 year old pussy before." "Reckon it looked nicer some time back." "Looks good to me," said George. "A little more muff than I was expecting. I was hoping to see more crack. But as you can see, my peepee is standing up to salute." He nodded. "You gonna spread your legs and let me see all of what you got?" Hannah giggled. "I was thinking all you wanted was a peek at my curls." George's rod had lengthened until it pointed in Hannah's direction at an upward tilt. His fingers moved the foreskin back from the reddish-purple head. "My Gawd! That thang's turned into a real monster." "Pussy power," said George, "but it don't get as big or hard as it used to." "Thank gawd for small favors. That thang could split a little woman, like me, in half." "Don't you believe it. It's opened many a gal with no complaints." "Don't think to be opening nothing of mine with that thang." "You just might like it." "So, we've showed it all. I guess I'll pull up my panties and go home," said Hannah. "You ain't wearing some," pointed out George. "Well, you know what I mean." "Wouldn't you rather kick 'em off and fool around?" "Maybe another time." Hannah turned nervously. "I got to git gitten fer home." "Thanks for the cookies." "Don't mention it." "And the pussy peek, short as it was." "Appreciated viewing your thang." "Maybe we can do it again, sometime." "Might could." "And maybe play around some. . . " "Wouldn't be surprised if that happened," chirped Hannah. "Well thankee fer the viewing. Preciate it." She bent, pulled up her sweats and reached for her purse. "Nice seeing your dick," said Hannah. "You got a nice one." To Be Continued... Hannah Ch. 2 Hannah gave his cock a flick with her finger. "That's for ladylike talk. For man to woman and woman to man talk, I'd call it a dick." "Do tell." George pulled up his pants and fastened his belt but did not zip. His erect cock poked out of the open fly as he followed her to the entryway. She turned to face him. "If you're seeing me out, you best stow that thing before opening your door." "You think my neighbors won't approve of your viewing my ding-dong?" "Probably not." "Well. I'll just tell 'em it felt so good out, I decided to leave it out." "And get us arrested for indecent exposure," giggled Hannah. "Nobody knows you uncovered yourn." "You got a beauty all right." Hannah nodded her head. "Reckon it'll be a picture to file in my memory book." George smiled. "Figured you might not be tired of looking yet." "Ho ho." Hannah put her hand on the doorknob. "Guess it would shake your nosy neighbors up some if they knew what we was about." "Sure would." "Shook me some too," admitted the old woman. "Made me all quivery, like jelly shakking, inside." "It was fun seeing you." George patted her scrawny butt. "I meant seeing l.c.." She turned away. "Never, in all our nasty phone talking, did I dream I'd find the nerve to do what we just done." "Sorry?" Hannah shook her head. She giggled. "Now you‘ve seen most of what this old lady's got." "And you've viewed mine at it's best." "Reckon we'll have us something to gab about on the phone after while." "You never flashed the old butt." He gave one lower cheek a gentle squeeze. "And I've always been an ass man." Hannah looked up to give him a nasty grin. "Now don't you let your hands get too free while you're copping feels." Hannah drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That hand feels mighty good on me, if I was to confess the truth." "Do tell?" "Just did." George moved his hand to the small of her back and pressed downward, forcing his hand under the waistband of her sweats. Before she had time to protest, his fingers cupped the spare, soft flesh of one bare buttocks. "Now cut that out." "You feel a lot better without that nasty cotton between us." "Have mercy on an old woman." "How's about giving me another pussy peek fore you leave us?" "Good Gar!" breathed Hannah. "Won't you ever get tired a looking at my nasty?" "To tell the unvarnished truth, I never see enough of that female nest. Never did. Never will." Hannah shook her head. "Sad to say, I don't mind your looking." She put her hands to her hips and slowly inched the sweats halfway down her skinny thighs. "So have yourself a good peek so's you can picture it when we talk, later on." "You figuring on us doing phone sex?" He reached down and cupped her crotch and pressed his longest finger into the crease. He heard the breath leave her as her head came to rest on his chest. "Oh God. You go easy now. No man has played around down there in thirty years." "Then I reckon it's about time," said George." "You got to use it or loose it." Hannah giggled. "If it was lost, I reckon you found it." "Lucky me." "I oughtn't be doing this." "Doing what?" "Letting you toy with my privates." "You like me fingering your puss?" "You're stronger than me." George's hand delved lower. His fingers moved along separation to where he felt the opening between her thighs. Her thighs parted imperceptibly. "Want me to stop?" Hannah moaned. Her head pressed against his chest. "It's not fair, leaving it up to me." "Why not?" She rubbed her cheek against his sweatshirt. "It's not nice, but it's feeling too good to try making you stop." His fingers encountered the moist though not slick inner lips of her opening. "You got just five minutes to get your fingers out of there." "Oh Gawd. Who knows." George bent down to touch her lips. "How's about a little tongue?" "You mean in the mouth?" "Good place to start." She raised her lips to his. "Ain't done that in a coon's age neither," said Hannah. "Bout time you took it up again." Their lips met and her tongue slipped smoothly over his. "Maybe we should lose these clothes and move back to the couch," whispered George. "You mean get total nekkid and fool around," giggled Hannah. "Like teenagers?" "Could happen." Hannah slipped the loose sweatshirt over her head and tossed it aside. She kicked off her shoes and pushed her sweats to her ankles and stepped out of them. She stood bare save for the plain, white bra which made her seem twice as naked. She walked back to the couch and tossed the bra aside. The small breasts sagged less than expected for a woman her age. The nipples were nearer brown than the youthful coral of half a century earlier. The skin was smooth and softer than expected though several shades too white. How many years had it been since those delicate, soft globes had been exposed to the sun? "I reckon we can do some fingering of this and that," said Hannah, "but I'm still not letting that big thang in my tender parts." "Won't do that," promised George, "till you beg me for a fuck." Hannah laughed in spite of herself. "Saying that nasty word ain't getting to me this time. Call it fucking or screwing. That thing ain't busting into my playpen." "Is that what you're a calling it?" "It's better than calling it pussy." "Or l.c.?" George's fingers slipped up her scrawny thigh until her dense thicket of wiry russet and gray tickled his knuckles. Hannah closed her thighs on his hand. "Now don't you be getting too curious too quick." "Just copping a quick feel." "Needn't nothing be quick. Good Lord, we got all afternoon." "Thought you had to go." "Well maybe not right this minute." "You was going to walk right out," he accused. She looked up at him. "You wasn't doing much to stop me. Was you expecting me to reach out and grab that big bird? T'wouldn't be ladylike, touching a gentleman before he touched her." "Fuck ladylike. I'm no gentleman." Hannah giggled. Under her breath she muttered, "Thank the Lord." "You don't say?" His left hand came around her back and captured a sagging breast. His thumb teased the rubbery nipple stiffening under his touch. She shivered and leaned against him. "You got no idea how good that feels." "Nice titty," said George. Hannah giggled into his chest. "You are so romantic." "Open your crotch.. I want to tickle l.c.." She parted her legs. "Open up, yourself." Her hand stole into his lap. She wrapped her fingers around his stiff pole. "Let a lady get a grip on that stiff thang." "All your fault." She giggled. "Really." "Got to be your shaggy, little l.c. No other pussy could a done it." She moved her hand up and down. "I can't believe we're doing this." He managed to insert a finger to the first knuckle in her cleft. "Do you remember the last time you had this much fun?" "It's been a day or two." Hannah sucked in her breath as he flicked her clit. She exhaled slowly through puckered lips. "You found the spot." "You ain't juicing much." "Hey. I'm an old woman. My thing ain't had so much attention in many a year." "So you‘re admitting you've got a hot pussy?" "Hell. Might as well, seeing how you're pawing at it." She giggled. "God Damn! You keep doing that, I might even say FUCKIT!" "Hot damn! I got me a live one. I'll keep diddling and you keep saying it." Hannah drew in a deep breath. "Fuck. . . fuck . . . fuck. . . fuck! God! Rub that little nubbin. You're going to make this old gal melt if you keep that up." George shoved two slickened fingers deeper into her and kept his thumb rotating on her clit. "Who a thunk it. The old girl's got some life left in her old twat." "And an old goat's fingers too." She moaned and clasped her thighs, vice-like on his wrist. "Feels like your whole damn hand is moving up there." "Don't tell me you've never used a fingers or two to tickle your snatch." "I ain't holding back. I've admitted to doing myself . About the only kind of sex I've had for too long." George ran his tongue around the shell of her ear. "I can bring in the heavy artillery anytime you're ready." "Keep that cannon to yourself. You're doing fine with what you're using." She sucked air between bared teeth. "I'm almost there." "Hungry pussy's getting finger-fucked," teased George. "God," moaned Hannah. "So good." She leaned her head back on the back of the couch. Her feet braced on the floor. She stiffened and her hips raised to create a bridge that vibrated a rhythm all its own. "Holy fucking Christ! I'm coming," moaned Hannah. She remained rigid until the last wave passed through her. Finally, her hips settled slowly to the couch. Her head lolled limply to one side. Her lips parted, fighting for breath, she whispered. "You know a little more of that and this old gal would die happy." "Sorry you didn't like it," chuckled George. "I reckon some older people are too old and prudish to get with it.. If you just didn't hold back you might learn to enjoy it." A slow smile crossed her lips. "You wiped this old lady out," she accused. "I'm hoping you'll do the same for me." She rolled her head to look at him. She moved a hand to his crotch and took his hard cock in her fingers. "Did I neglect somebody's little, old pecker?" "It's big enough and hard enough to part your crinkly old ass right now," snorted George. Hannah snuggled up to him. "Let me rest a minute. You take an old gal's breath away. I ain't used to all this tickling and teasing." "I wasn't teasing," said George. "Reckon I made somebody's pussy pucker." Hannah let a sly smile cross her face. "Reckon you done that. For a while there I wondered if it was ever going to stop puckering." "Is that bad?" "Best I've had all day." Hannah started to get to her feet but instead settled to the floor, on her knees between his. I think you drew all the sap right out of these old legs. I don't know if I can stand." "Maybe you don't need too." She rested her cheek on his bare knee. "Reckon I can handle that thang from here. She ran her fingers up and down his rod. "Think I can coax some juice out of it?" "Wouldn't be surprised. I bet you could suck out a lot if you was so inclined." "Inclined to what?" "Suck it out." "Now you know I never bargained to put that thing 'tween my lips. I never done that for no man in my whole, entire life." "Never too late. You never come so much as you just done neither and you're probably up for some more." "It sounds so dirty." "Took a shower just before you got here." "I'm talking the sex kind of dirty." "Like fingering your pussy till you scream fuck at the top of your voice." "I never done that." "You was moaning, fuck, fuck, fuck." "I couldn't a done that." "I guess your little cat didn't come all over itself either." "Can't deny doing that. You done me good." He put his hand on her head and mussed her hair. "You know I'm not about to be making you do something you don't want." "I know. I'm being bitchy cause I'm nervous and a tad scared." "Don't be." "Does it taste awful?" "Don't know, Never got my mouth close enough to cop a taste. " "Would you if you could?" "Oh I tried," confessed George, "but, even hard, it was a good six inches from my mouth." "But I'd say you've had a few others do it for you." "Some, but never enough." Her fingers continued moving up and down his stiff pole. "Ain't what I'm doing making you feel good enough." "Hey, I'm enjoying the hell out of it. You jack a damned good dick and no mistake. You can play with my little old pecker till your arm gets tired. I was just thinking you might be up for a new experience." Hannah looked up to meet his eyes. "It seems so nasty, just talking about it." "Some say it's nasty, doing what we been doing. I think it's great." Hannah lowered her head and touched his cock with the tip of her tongue. "I guess it don't taste all that bad." "That's what I'm telling you." She guided his cock between her lips and closed them behind the head for a moment before letting pop in the air. "If I was to do that some more, would you promise you won't let stuff come out, that I got to swallow?" "I'll warn you in plenty of time." "See that you do." Hannah managed half of it on the first downward stroke. She did a little better each succeeding thrust, while her lips created a suction on the upswing. Hannah became lost in what she was doing as she found she liked her effect on him, hearing his moans. She liked the upward thrust of his hip and the sliding inward as she swallowed more of him and they somehow met, lips to pubic hair and she could not believe she had all of that big thang in her mouth. Then he was shouting words she did not understand. And he was slapping her, on the back. Then he thrust forward and did not withdraw. She felt the throbbing action at the base of his cock, where her lips tightened around him. Then he was spurting. . . pumping, pumping, pumping stuff into her throat and mouth. And something was happening to her again. Her whole body tensed and her moan became a constant hum about his pumping cock. Her heart pounded till she thought it would burst. She lifted her head without letting him go. And when she got her breath back she nursed his softening cock like a calf at teat, suckling her mother. "God damn," gasped George. "You sucked the living daylights out of me." "You son-of-a-bitch," gasped Hannah. "You done stuff in my mouth." "Tried to warn you. You wouldn't stop." "Tastes bitter," said Hannah, wiping her mouth. "Sorry," said George. "Swallowed worse," admitted Hannah." "Why you little devil, you. You liked it?" "I reckon it's worth trying again, sometime." George slipped to the floor beside her. "Hey give me a big sloppy kiss." "After I done swallowed your stuff?" "I reckon if it's good enough for you, I shouldn't mind a taste." "Reckon not." The old woman grinned. "So give me some tongue. I sucked one end might as well do the other." "You keep talking like that you're going to get fucked whether you want it or not." Hannah brought her lips close to his. Her tongue touched his lips and withdrew. "Talk, talk, talk," she breathed and then forced her tongue into his mouth as far as it would go. As they tongue wrestled, George's fingers were once again busy at the woman's crotch. At least two invaded Hannah's slickness while his thumb rubbed her clit. To George's surprise, that little nubbin had increased from the size of a pea to a projection the diameter of his little finger and nearly half an inch long. Hannah's hips squirmed and thrust against his hand and behind her thrusting tongue came moans of ecstasy. George could not believe the action of her pelvis, the power of her thrusts, the enthusiasm and acceptance of his questing fingers. Hannah pulled her lips from his. "Do me. I‘m wanting something more than a finger down there." "You want a fucking?" breathed George, "an honest to God fucking?" "That's what my pussy‘s craving," panted Hannah. She rolled on to her back and parted her smooth, thin thighs. "Come on old man. Put that big, hard rod to me." "How you do talk," teased George. "Do me old man." George pressed forward. "Whooee," grunted Hannah, "Go easy. That thang feels some bigger than it looked." "I am going easy." Hannah thrust her hips to meet his. A long breath hissed between her teeth. "God Damn! even if it hurts a bit, its still the best thing my old thang's felt in many a year. I'm craving every inch." "You got most of it already." "Thank the lord." Hannah giggled. "I don't think I could handle more than six inches more." "Greedy little cunt, ain't it?" "I thank you for saying the little part." "Right tight pussy," breathed George." "Right big dick," purred Hannah. "Hits the spot." "You knew this was going to happen?" "Thought you didn't want to fuck." "A lady, specially an old lady, shouldn't appear eager even if she's feeling hotter than a firecracker." The motion of her hips speeded up. George, in response, pounded into her. "You close to coming?" "Almost there," panted Hannah. "Then lets do it?" "Oh yes! Fuckit, you old prick. Give it to me. I"M COMING!!!" George sank down on her with all his weight pressing his cock into her while her legs came up and encircled his waist as she pressed her clit against his pubis. They fought for breath. "Am I getting too heavy for you?" breathed George. "You're fine," panted Hannah. "Stay like you are. Everything's fitting just fine the way we are." She wrapped her thin arms around him. "Feel like giving a screwed out old lady another kiss?" His lips found hers. His tongue outlined the opening then entered her mouth and did a slow dance with hers. "You're one prime piece of ass," breathed George. "Well thank you, kind sir, appreciated the ride." "I got to say I was wondering if you could accommodate me in that little pussy after all the years it ain't been put to use." Hannah's hand slipped between them to grasp his wilting boner. "You fit the spot just fine. Though I got something to confess." "What's that?" "Your dick ain't the only thang that been down there these past years." "You mean I got competition." Hannah giggled guiltily. "Not from any man thing, you don't." "But I reckon it's fingers you're talking about." She giggled, shyly. "Hope you don't hold it against me." "You mean you used them to get. . .? Hannah nodded. "No Shit? I'd sure love to see you do that." "Can't say it's the prettiest thing I ever seen in my mirror but it sure turned me on," admitted Hannah. "Hey. I'm throwing another boner from hearing you tell it." "Wouldn't want you to exhaust yourself," giggled Hannah, "Or me. It'd be a shame if one of us was to have a heart attack the first time we got it on." "Must be the novelty of it," confessed George. "I ain't got more than two hard-ons the same day in years." Hah!" said Hannah. "What was you doing with the first one if there weren't no woman around?" "I reckon I helped myself, like you done." "Every day?" asked Hannah. "Some days," grinned George, "I just take it out and look at it, while talking on the phone with you." "You talked to me, with your dick sticking out?" "I confess to doing that.?" "You're a dirty old pervert," tittered Hannah. "Damn right," declared George. "And what was you doing when we was talking about those sexy things?" Hannah snickered. "I reckon I rubbed my legs together then squeezed real tight." "And maybe you snuck a finger down there?" Hannah nodded, "There was times I couldn't help doing that." "So you enjoyed our little chats?" "Reckon so," confessed Hannah. "You got anymore nasty ideas?" He slapped her ass, playfully. "And you look like such an innocent old bag." George parted her spare, boy solid, ass cheeks. A finger slipped up the crack until it came to her crinkled rosette and tickleded her rear opening. "There's one place we ain't put it." "Not in my lifetime, you don't" giggled the woman. "That would just be just awful." "You never been done back there?" "Good Gar, no. That's what men do to other men." "They call it cornholing." George slickened his finger at her front opening, brought the moist finger back and pressured inward until it fit in her back passage to the second knockle." "What are you doing to me?" Hannah groaned and then giggled. "How can any one man be so nasty?" George moved his finger in and out of the tight hole. "Like it?" "Feels strange as all get out," gasped Hannah. "Would you be thinking of ramming your big thang in my little back hole?" "Want it?" Hannah Ch. 2 Hannah thought a second and shook her head. "Too soon to tell. Let me work on it a minute." "Take your time." "So nasty," moaned Hannah. She moved back, slowly, on his finger. "Oh God! that feels strange Don't you think shoving your big thang in there might hurt some?" "Might at first," said George. "Could split me in two," reasoned Hannah. "Might not." "Good Gar!" muttered Hannah, "I ain't rode one of them things in the right place since I can't remember when, let alone parking it where nothing's ever been." "Wanta give it a shot?" "I figure it‘s gonna hurt more than a little." Hannah turned away to lay on her side, knees drawn up and pointed her buttocks toward him. "Ain't but one way to find out." George continued working his finger into the slickened passage. "I'll go as slow as you like. You're making me so hard just thinking about it." "Oh sheeeit," gasped Hannah. "So nasty." She moved back and forth on his finger, trying for more of it. "Oh God! Go on! Do me." She giggled through a moan. "I reckon after all the shit that's come out of there, one old turd going the wrong way ain't going to make all that much difference." "You're sounding more and more like the girl of my dreams," said George. *** They lay on the floor spoon fashion, front to back, George still firmly entrenched in Hannah's ass. "Are you all right?" he whispered. "I'm doing fine," grunted Hannah. "And I'm liking what you done." "Didn't hurt?" She giggled. "I'm going to have me a sore butt for a day or two." Hannah turned her head to try to see George. "Feel like I got me a big, old cucumber lodged up there." "Guess it'll go away in time," said George. "Don't suppose you ever had one of them thangs lodged in your back side." "Reckon not. Wouldn't be fitting." Hannah giggled. "Didn' t fit mine too easy. I'm going to feel like I want to poop cucunbers for a week." "Never thought you'd hold still for it," said George. "Never thought it would fit," confessed Hannah. "You were a mighty tight," said George. "L.c.'s little tender too," said Hannah. "Bitch, bithch, bitch," chuckled George as he leaned over to kiss her. "A person might think you was a lady what just got fucked." "Just did," said Hannah and I'm weak as shit in the knees. Don't know as I can leave here without walking funny and giving your neighbor some idea of what you done to me." "So spend the night." "With my car parked in your drive? I'd never live it down. "What would your high-toned, church-going friends think of what we done?" asked George." "Fuck ‘em," giggled Hannah. "No thanks," panted George. "I got more holes than I can handle, right here." "Bet your ass," tittered Hannah.