10 comments/ 71948 views/ 24 favorites Angela's Service By: davion2308 *This is the first trip into the Mature part of Literotica. As always, help me improve by giving constructive criticism. It's easy to say the story sucked, but WHY did it suck? Help me out. Or if it was brilliant, tell me what you liked and where I can improve. Have fun! * Angela cursed her poor, depressed version of America. Her part of southern Florida had little money and few employment opportunities. She wasn't a fisherman, so she couldn't get into the charter business, which took 95% of local tourism. Her family barely made enough for food selling junk on the side of the road by their house. Arts and crafts, her mother cheerfully referred to them. Angela felt like she was going to live and die within 30 miles of this house. She glanced at the half-page of want ads. Nothing. She needed a job to go to school, to get the hell out of here. She was 20 years old and chomping at the bit for escape. But there wasn't enough money for her to survive. "Wait," she said aloud. Her eyes reread the same sentence. Entry Level Position - Green Glades Retirement Home. She scanned the fine print. It was a maid position for a retirement home twenty minutes from her house. She immediately called and scheduled an interview. Two days later, she was hired on and began working, one of two steady wage-earners in her household. Angela made barely over $6.00 an hour, but she was scheduled for 40 hours a week. She was excited to enter the real workforce and not be shackled to a rocking chair while people from Ohio picked through their shit. Angela rather enjoyed her job. She never minded doing some light cleaning. Half the time she was at work, she was to socialize with the clients. The two dozen of them were very wealthy and fairly old. Almost all male, they were a nice group of people. Many chatted politely, listened to her more then her parents, and offered advice. She wished she could live like this later in life. They had two beautiful pools, manicured lawns, and sat in the shade drinking iced tea and playing chess. Work passed by quickly while she pretended she was a younger version of them, not an employee. But she wasn't. She worked there and she worked hard. A month in and her manager had complimented her during their weekly staff meeting. "I know you all are getting to know Angela, but I wanted to say she did a great job getting involved in the activities and still maintaining her responsibilities around here. Thanks, Angela!" The seven other maids mimicked high-fives and grinned at her. They were a close bunch and supportive of each other. They always helped out and never squealed when someone was late or snuck a nap. They were her older sisters and always helped her out. "On a more serious note, several of you have complained about Mr. Lemosh. I know he's been problematic before and we're going to have a talk with him again. Some of these guys get a little out of hand with Mrs. Fairn in the hospital with her hip problem." Laughter broke out at the joke. Mrs. Fairn was what passed for a 70 year-old slut. "But, honestly, as management, we are here to help you and protect you. Sexual harassment will not be allowed if I have anything to say for it. Our waiting list is a mile long and if we bounce Mr. Lemosh or any other client, we can easily fill their spot. I want you all to be safe." The maids expressed their appreciation. The meeting was adjourned. Outside, Angela steered Jane aside. "Jane, what happened?" Jane was the most senior maid working at the center. She was mid-40s, grizzled in a Truck Stop Diner Waitress sort of way, and was down-to-earth and grounded in reality. "Well, honey, Jackie and Melissa both said he slapped their asses when they walked by him the other day. These old guys, sometimes jerking off isn't enough and they need to feel the real thing. There aren't strip joints nearby, so they're stuck with us. And I don't want any of their meat hooks on my skin." Angela laughed, "Who would?" "Well," Jane answered, "between you and me, five or six years ago, we carried two staff nurses instead of the one now. Maybe she was really hurting for cash, or she needed a thrill, who knows, but she let the guys touch." Angela was shocked. "Really?" "Yeah, but for a fee. These old guys have millions stuffed in their banks; they can afford some money for a quick good time. And she was all about it. Hell, it was a win-win-win situation, since those grabby hands stayed away from the rest of us. She made money, they had their fun, and no one squeezed my tush. In a way, I almost kind of miss her service." "What was her name?" Angela asked. "Nurse Vernon." Angela did the math that night. She made about $700 a month. More then half went into supporting her family. If there were a local strip joint, she'd be there, making that much in a few nights. At the rate she was saving money, she couldn't make it out until she was 45, it seemed. Maybe she could weasel hundreds out of her clients for a few glances at her tits. She had a nice body, she stayed in shape, and she liked dancing. Maybe she could be a pseudo-stripper for whoever was interested. That might work. Angela's chance came later that week. Mr. Lemosh was wandering down the hallway towards his door. He held up a hand as she moved past him. "My dear Angela, could you do an old man a favor?" he asked. "Of course!" she responded brightly, "How may I help you?" "My key is in my front pocket here and my arthritis is killing me. Would you mind fishing it out?" Angela's mouth went dry and her pulse picked up. She saw the twinkle in Mr. Lomosh's eye and knew what he was playing at. It seemed so creepy. She might have rubbed up against the guy, but this was too much. If he met a price, she'd give him a few seconds of groping. She didn't know how to barter, so she just went with it. "I'll put my hand in your pocket to find your key for 50 bucks," she said, surprised to hear no trace of nervousness in her voice. She felt like she was trembling and shaking. Mr. Lemosh blinked and nodded. Angela's hand snaked forward. "No, no, dear, the other pocket." He turned a half-circle and she put her hand in his pocket. She immediately felt wrinkled skin and hair. Of course, he would have cut the fabric away from the pants. Inwardly sighing, she slid her hands across his hip, down his lower belly, and onto his crotch. His chest involuntary caved as she gently held his cock and balls in her palm. She squeezed them lightly and counted to ten. She pulled her hand out of his pants and fought the urge to wipe it on her shirt. "Oops," he said, a huge smile on his face, "Silly me. They're in this pocket. And this wrist feels much better." He got his key out, opened his door and walked toward the dresser against the window. Angela followed him in and looked out at his view. Seniors were out playing shuffle board and walking laps around the pool, as opposed to swimming them in it. She refocused on Mr. Lemosh, who held three twenties in his hand. "Here you are," he handed them over, "I know it's a little more, but I'm fine with that. You have a very soft hand." Angela took the money and walked out the door, closing it gently behind her. She immediately went to the soft, overstuffed chairs near the unused ping-pong table at the end of the hall. She felt a rush of emotions. Had she really just held a 75 year-old man's junk in her hands? She had his 60 bucks in her hand right now. And for what? Fifteen seconds of contact? She could figure out the hourly rate, but she was marveling at the potential money she could make. She was also a prostitute. Kind of. She'd deal with that image of herself later. The next day, Mr. Lemosh smiled at her from his chair by the pool. She walked past and he swatted at her butt. She jumped out of the way and shot him a frown. "That'll cost, Mr," she said. He calmly asked how much. "50 bucks to touch me, but only with my permission and only my ass." He motioned for her to stand next to him. The uniform of the day was often a pink long dress made of heavy material, but today was Sunday, visitation day, so the maids were encouraged to wear relaxed clothing. Angela wouldn't call today's apparel a sundress exactly, but that was the closest definition. She turned and faced away from Mr. Lemosh. They were in the far corner of the pool area, and most clients were much too hot to be outside. There was probably no one watching. Mr. Lemosh's hand made contact with the back of Angela's knee. His fingers walked their way up her tanned, smooth leg. He palmed her ass and squeezed very gently. He kneaded one cheek, then the other. She was never more thankful for wearing granny panties then today. She waited for him to finish. His hand dropped out from underneath her dress. "100 more if you take off your panties," he said cheerfully. Angela started. 210 dollars in two days, cash. He was more gentle then the last two guys she dated, who squeezed her like they were checking cantaloupes. She threw a glance at the building. No one appeared to be watching them. "Deal," she said, sliding her panties down to her ankles. His hand moved back up her legs, massaging and caressing her skin as it climbed. It covered her ass, ran along her hips and her lower back. She felt one finger trail down her crack, trace between her cheeks, and run in gentle circles around her asshole. She had never been handled so carefully and confidently before. She felt the warming of a dull head in her belly. This old man, born over 50 years before her, was turning her on with his touch. It was nice to be touched like this. She was almost enjoying herself. "Angela," he said in low voice, "I'll double it if you turn around for me." She turned. His hand slid around as her body rotated. The single finger ran quickly up and down the fronts of her legs. His well-manicured nail lightly scratched at her inner thigh. She gasped as the lone finger ran up and down her slit. More of his fingers joined in and started rubbing at her pussy. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she thought to herself. She picked her foot up and pulled it out of the leg hole of her underwear. She stood, feet wider apart, giving Mr. Lemosh better access. Tingles of pleasure turned to waves as he sat up and put his other hand to work. Angela's entire world focused on her crotch. The old man was rhythmically pumping two fingers in and out of her pussy. He rubbed his thumb against her slit, lubing it with her juices. He moved it up and stroked her clit, increasing the speed as her hips started to sway. She fought the electricity shooting through her body. 'My God,' she thought, 'I'm going to orgasm.' As soon as the thought hit her, she came hard. Her entire body bucked and shook. She grabbed Mr. Lemosh's head, the only thing she could hold on to. Her whole body continued to spasm as Mr. Lemosh kept his hands moving in her crotch. After what felt like several minutes of pure pleasure, the waves in her body started to recede. She collapsed on the grass next to Mr. Lemosh's chair, breathing heavily. He said nothing, waiting patiently for her to recover. For several minutes, she laid in bliss in the shady grass. The sounds of the pool filter and her slowing heart calmed her. Angela felt light-headed. It was one of the best orgasms she ever had. She looked up at Mr. Lemosh. He smiled down at her, then glanced between her legs. "Oops," he said, "You should fix yourself." She pulled her underwear back on and straightened her clothes. She sighed, content. "Well, Angela, my billfold is on the bureau. Please help yourself, I trust you. Thanks for making an old man happy." Knees still shaky, she walked to his room. She pulled 300 bucks of from his drawer, excited to put it into her bank account. "What are you doing?" Two other clients, Mr. Warren and Mr. Deerly were staring at her, holding Mr. Lemosh's money. They were friends of his and were probably coming by to see what he was up to. "Mr. Lemosh and I have a deal worked out. He owes me 300 dollars." "For what?" Mr. Warren demanded. "That's our business." "Bill, stay right here and watch her. I'm going to talk with Jim. She's a no-good thief." Mr. Deerly, who hated conflict, quietly stood, eyes on the ground. Angela felt like he was the one caught at stealing. The clock's minute hand made five slow sweeps around its face. Mr. Warren finally returned, grinning. "Well, it looks like everything's okay. And Bill? We have the return of Nurse Vernon in front of us." Angela's Service Ch. 02 *This picks up immediately following the first story. You can come along for the ride but I suggest reading Part 1. Angela sat in the rocker by the roadside the following afternoon. She quickly and quietly opened her own savings account this morning, depositing several hundred dollars. She would also add a small portion of her paycheck. She was young and shouldn't have to help support her family. An older couple from Pennsylvania was sifting through homemade crafts. The woman picked up an item from a box marked $5.00. "Can I get this for 3 bucks?" she asked. Angela rolled her eyes. This wasn't a garage sale and her family wasn't trying to dump crap they didn't need. "No, ma'am. That's a five dollar item and the price is non-negotiable." The woman put it back and looked at her husband. He caught her eye and they piled back into their RV. Dust kicked up as it rolled off towards the forest of masts. Everyone went to sail here. No one bought their stuff. She dozed in the summer heat. Her mind kept wandering back to yesterday. She managed to avoid most of the clients, but their looks and conspiratorial grins told her that word had gotten around. She was torn between embarrassment and acceptance. Sure, she let a 70 year old bring her to orgasm. Sure, she made a few hundred bucks off it but that made her a hooker. The thing that got to her was that it felt so good. He was gentle, soft, and all those years of experience showed up. She laughed to herself thinking about how much better an older man would be compared to a 21 year old frat boy. The next day at work, she smiled at waved to Mr. Lemosh. He waved back from across the pool yard. She wandered back into the coolness of the building and ran into Mr. Deerly and Mr. Warren. They were the two that caught her hands in Mr. Lemosh's money the other day. She was sure Mr. Lemosh told no one and it was these two that spread word about her. "Ah, Nurse Vernon! Oops, I mean, Ms. Angela. How are you today?" Mr. Warren asked. Mr. Deerly shuffled his feet and looked at the ground. "I'm well. How are you two gentlemen?" she asked. "We're swell. We might need your presence later today if you were so inclined. There's something we can use your help with." Angela smiled politely and nodded. This would become very interesting very quickly. She felt she should control who and what happened and everyone could understand that. But if anyone felt slighted or angry, they could easily get her fired or make enough noise that she would get into serious trouble. Her job might be at stake, she realized with sudden panic. Mr. Warren swiftly walkered away. Mr. Deerly waited a second, then cleared his throat. Angela realized he was nervous and hid her smile. "Ummm... I've never done anything like this ever and it's been a long time since Margaret passed. I don't know how to ask you for something." His eyes were locked on her shoes. "What would you like, Mr. Deerly?" Angela quietly asked. "I want you to shower me," he responded. "Like, you want me to lean in and scrub you, so I don't get my hair wet? Wet hair doesn't look good in this heat." He smiled at her joke and shook his head. "No, I want you to be in there with me." And then quickly, "I'd give you 200 dollars to do it." Angela smiled and nodded. "Tonight?" she asked. "Yes, that would be good. Thank you." Evening came quickly. Around 7:00, after everyone was fed and the large dining room cleaned, Angela went to punch out. She walked to the parking lot with the other maids and said her good-byes. She fumbled with her keys while they drove away. Walking quickly back towards a side door, Angela let herself in and headed towards Room 24. She had never done things half-assed and this was a chance to make a lot of money even if it were the sex trade. She would consider it acting, perhaps, and go all out, making these guys happy. With any luck, she'd be so impressive she could raise rates. She knocked on the door. The door swung open and Mr. Deerly peered out. He smiled at her. She smiled back while fighting off a laugh. He had only a towel wrapped around his waist. He was old and his body showed abuse from too much sitting and McDonald's. His skin was the pale color of dead fish and it sagged. He had random splotches of hair on his chest and he was significantly overweight. Angela stepped inside the apartment and pulled the towel off him. He stood naked in front of her. Under a mess of gray pubes, she could make out his small cock. "Get the water running," Angela said, "I'll be in a moment." Mr. Deerly walked into the bathroom. The shower kicked on seconds later and steam curled up from the doorframe. Angela pulled her uniform over her head and reached behind to unsnap her bra. She pulled it off, kicked off her shoes, and pulled her panties off her hips and down her legs. She was naked in Mr. Deerly's room. She was about to shower with him. She saw the 200 dollars sitting on the dresser and stuffed it into her purse. Sighing, she walked into the bathroom. Mr. Deerly was under the spray of water, humming a tuneless song. Angela discreetly coughed to alert him to her presence. "C'mon in, the water's warm." She pulled the curtain back and stepped in. The differences in their bodies shocked her. She was 20 years old, tanned with smooth, soft skin. She was physically fit and had long, lean legs and perky breasts. He was even more pasty and doughy in the lights of the bathroom. Skin sagged and hung and liver spots and other marks were rampant. Angela had showered with a guy or two before and she quickly took charge. Mr. Deerly was bald so he needed no shampooing. She put the bar of soap in his hand and held her arms over her head. "First," she directed, "you soap up my front." His hands came up with the bar. He worked up a lather on her breasts, squeezing and running his palms on her skin. She let him touch, caress, and rub her tits. His hands slid down and ran along her abs. Angela loved doing core work when she exercised and she had tight abs, molded and visible when she showed her midriff. Mr. Deerly's breathing labored as he moved his hands lower between her legs. He lightly touched her pussy lips and pushed down with his fingertips. She moaned for his benefit and he laughed, pleased with himself. She let him grope her a few more seconds. "Okay, turn around and I'll get you." Mr. Deerly turned, facing the stream of water from the showerhead and handed the soap back to Angela. She plucked it out of his hand and put it on the soap dish. He started to ask what she was doing when she stepped right up behind him. She pressed her soap-covered tits against his back. Pushing into him, her soapy stomach touched his wrinkled lower back. She slid up and down along his back. She lowered her body so her nipples were running down to his back and straightened up, pressing her crotch into his sagging ass. She glided up and down his back, scrubbing him with her tits. Her hands curled around to the front of his body and she skimmed his chest and round stomach with her palms. "Let me get your legs," she said, kneeled behind him. She reached up for the soap and ran her hands along his vein-ridden calves. "Spread your feet a little," she asked. Mr. Deerly widened his stance, feet touching the edges of the tub. Angela ran the bar of soap up and down his calves and the backs of his legs. Then, putting the bar down, she ran her hand up the inside of his leg, slowly reaching his inner thighs. His whole body stiffened as her hand went between his legs and stroked his balls. Still kneeling behind him, she reached around with her other arm and grasped his dick. She gave it a few soft pulls and let go. "Okay, rinse off the back," Angela said, standing up. Mr. Deerly turned and put his back in the water. His dick was fairly hard at 4 inches. Her hands went to his crotch as she looked him in the eyes. She lightly tugged on his balls and started pumping his cock with her hand. "You like that, Grandpa?" she cooed, "You like me jerking you off? I bet you want me to suck it." She eased down his body, sleek and slippery from unrinsed bubbles, and knelt between his legs. She pushed her tits into his crotched and slid up and down on his cock. His breathing was ragged and he held onto the shower curtain for dear life. Angela decided to give the old man a thrill. Her lips parted and she took his cock in her mouth. She was lying to herself saying she wasn't having fun as her head started bobbing up and down into the old man's crotch. He was not big and she easily took him down to his pubes. She sucked his cock, massaging it with her mouth. Mr. Deerly grabbed her head to hold on as he got closer and closer to orgasm. Angela wasn't ready yet to swallow her client's cum and she pulled off him. His dick popped out of her mouth with a wet sound. "I want your cum on my tits," she said, stroking his cock. She pumped it furiously, her wet handing flying up and down his four inches. She ran her nails on the underside of his stomach, scratching him lightly. He reached down and held her tit. "Ahhhh!" he cried out. His hips shot forward and a gob of cum shot out and landed on her chest. She kept working, slowing down her pace as Mr. Deerly's knees buckled. He dropped to his knees, joining her in the tub, and leaned heavily on her. Angela held him, cooing in his ear. After a minute, she untangled herself from the grinning Mr. Deerly. He gave her a thumbs up and continued to lay in the bathtub. She dried off and walked out to his main room. She dried and pulled her clothes on. "Ms. Angela?" he called out. "Yes?" she responded. "Take more from the dresser. You earned whatever you want." Angela pulled open a drawer. Looking at all the money, she wondered why these old guys had so much cash lying around. First the other day and now she was looking at 600 bucks, minimum. She wasn't greedy, though, so she added another 100 and got dressed. "Thanks," she called out. "No. Thank you," he said. Walking to her car, Angela wondered how far she could take this. Three hundred dollars in 20 minutes. She could do this twice a day and make three grand in a week. A few months of this and she'd be paid up for a four-year college. She would start looking online to submit applications to schools. Maybe USF or Miami. She had the grades in high school. Now, with this opportunity, she would get to college. She laughed to herself. She even had fun with the old guy. Angela's Service Ch. 03 *Please let me know what you think. I enjoy getting email as well as comments. If anyone has ideas or want to see something happen, drop me a line* * Angela sat at home that night, listening to her parents bitch and moan about the slow vacation season. Her father criticized her for working at the retirement home, saying she didn't help out enough. Angela was tempted to point out a slow season didn't require extra hands and hers was the only job making consistent money. Dinner this evening was purchased with Angela's paycheck. 80% of her wages now went to her household. Her original budget called for only half per paycheck. But the family made nothing else. They didn't know what she had in her bank account. She opened it yesterday at the local bank. In the past two days, she amassed over 600 dollars, cash. She had given the old guys a thrill and they paid handsomely for it. She wasn't going to lie, she liked it herself. It was both sexy and charitable at the same time. Maybe another opportunity would present itself today. Angela looked forward to work for the first time in a while. The day was another scorcher. Morning rains dumped water on the ground, which was baked off the cement by the sun. The air was saturated and the humidity out of control. It would be an indoor day for the residents. The morning staff meeting confirmed as such. Residents, for their safety, should be kept in air condition or in the pool for the remainder of this heat wave. Most of them hadn't left the comforts of the common area yesterday and today would be hotter. It was perfect for Angela, who was acclimatized to the heat. She sweated lightly but felt no serious negative risks being outdoors. Lunch came around and she decided to sneak out for some light tanning. "Hey, Stephanie," she said to another maid, "I'm going to take an hour by the gulch, okay?" Stephanie smiled, "You just happened to have brought your stuff, huh?" Angela's nod brought a laugh from Stephanie. She waved Angela away, smiling. "Take your time, hun, no one's going to miss you here." Angela walked to her car, grabbed her bag and quickly headed towards the pool area. She couldn't dress in the small locker room because Marion was in charge today. She hung out in the office just outside the door and she would get suspicious with Angela heading in with a bag and leaving minutes later. Angela angled behind the shrubs and let herself out the back gate. She crossed the tee area of the first hole of the small golf course, walked down the winding steps, stepped through some vegetation, and came out on a small stretch of coarse, unattractive brown sand. One of the many lakes in the area lapped along the shore, though Angela would never go in that water. This was one of the quietest places in Florida. No one brought boats to this side of the lake. She couldn't even hear engines or jetskis. The clients never came down here. It was a perfect getaway for an hour. Angela pulled her bathing suit out of the bag and laid the towel on the gritty beach. Although no one would ever find her, she wouldn't go nude sunbathing while on the clock. She pulled her dress over her head and folded it. She carefully put it in her bag to avoid wrinkles. She kicked off her shoes and socks, letting them fall where they may. She stepped out of her panties and into her blue bikini bottoms. Lastly, her bra came off. She took a second to enjoy the wash of the sunlight on her breasts before putting her top on. She spent a few minutes putting on sunscreen before laying back and soaking the rays. This was life! Ten wonderful minutes passed. A noise caught Angela's attention. She looked up, panicked. Had Marion found her? Shit! Excuses and words ran through her head before she heard a distinctively male cough. And a curse. She smiled. Mr. Anders, the heaviest client they had, crossed the sand to where she was sitting. He was quiet, very polite, and 270 pounds at 5'10. The effort to get here must have been difficult. Sweat poured down his head and soaked his floral shirt. "Young woman, I nearly fell going down those awful stairs. Is that plywood someone used for a handrail? It felt like it was going to snap at any second." He glared at the stairs for a second before directing his attention back to Angela. A gentle smile broke out on his face. "How is the sunlight, my dear?" he asked. "Perfect," she responded. "You look like you may be getting too much of it. You might burn." "Mmmmm?" she responded. "I think you need more sunscreen. May I help?" Mr. Anders offered. He said nothing more, but simply held out a wad of cash. Angela smiled. Different men had different approaches. This one was to the point. He held five twenties. She took the money, put it in her purse, and leaned over to reach the bottle of sunscreen. She held it up to Mr. Anders. The old man sighed heavily as he dropped to a knee. The effort was obvious. He took the bottle from her. "Roll over," he said. She rolled onto her stomach. His arthritic hands fumbled at the knot at the back of her top. Angela reached behind her, undid the knot, and slid her top out from under her. Mr. Anders poured a generous amount of sunscreen on her back and worked it into her skin. He rubbed her shoulders, kneading the tight muscles. She wondered how he was able to do this with aching wrists. His hands worked down her back, moving along her spine, massaging small aches as he went lower. He came to the waistline of her bottoms and stopped. A line of sunscreen was poured along the back of her leg. Mr. Anders caressed her skin lightly, rubbing the sunscreen into one leg. Another line, another leg. She enjoyed his light touch and allowed her mind to float away. The world seemed far away as Angela relaxed and enjoyed the contact. She was quickly brought back to reality when Mr. Anders's fingers slid under her bottoms and made contact with her asshole. She jumped involuntarily. "Are you okay?" he asked with concern. "Yes, I just didn't expect that," Angela replied. "I'll stop if you want," he said. He made no mention of money or getting his value's worth. She knew he would quit immediately and have no problem with the cash. She would do him one better. She wiggled out of her bottoms and pulled them down her legs. "Can you help?" she asked. Mr. Anders, fighting gravity, reached over and pulled the bottoms off Angela's ankles. She had never been nude outside, but she was naked now. It felt good, freeing. Mr. Anders went back to work, rubbing sunscreen on her ass. He squeezed and rubbed, playing with her butt. He slid an oiled finger along her asscrack, groped one cheek, then the other, and had fun. Angela never met a guy so content to handle her ass. It boosted her self-esteem a bit. She gave him several minutes, then turned over. "Would you mind getting the front of me?" she asked. He looked at her nude body, nodding. He drank in the sight of her taut, tanned skin. She was toned, well-defined, and he was nothing but smiles. He nodded again, business-like and uncapped the bottle. Angela laughed at the smiley face Mr. Anders drew on her stomach with the sunscreen. He started spreading the lotion, running his hands up and down her stomach and the sides of her torso. She wondered if he would go up or down first. Mr. Anders chose up, one hand running over Angela's perky B-cup breasts. He pretended to lotion for only a few seconds. Giving up pretense, he fondled her tits. She glanced down at the wrinkled, liver-spotted hands. The gray hairs on the knuckles didn't bother her, not the way they touched her. The old guys had a wonderful touch. Mr. Anders's finger tips barely made contact with Angela's nipples. She was sensitive and the feeling sent currents of electricity straight to her pussy. She moaned and arched a back, forcing her tits into his hands. He smiled down at her and glanced between her legs. Angela nodded at him and a palm cupping her tit moved down her abs. Her body shook when he grazed her clit with the lightest touch. She didn't realize how wound up and turned on she was. Another graze and her body jolted. A third made her hips buck. She spread her thighs wide, giving him more access, and waited. Nothing came. "Well?!?" she demanded. "Well what?" Mr. Anders asked mildly. "Keep going!" she ordered a little more harshly then she meant. "Oh, this?" he asked. Her body flinched with pleasure. His finger stayed on her clit, pressing now, speeding up a little. Her entire body thrummed with a building orgasm. The sensation came out of nowhere and now it grew, heat in her pussy. She wanted him to speed up, to make her cum. Mr. Anders took his time. If only he worked a little faster, pushed a little harder, he'd take her over the top. But Angela stayed in purgatory, wracked with ecstasy. He stroked her clit expertly, slowing down when she was close to orgasm. Minutes dragged by. "Feel good?" Mr. Anders asked. "Unghhhh," Angela moaned. Her whole body jerked in motion with his finger, "Please, God, let me cum." She heard a laugh. He increased the speed and pressed her clit harder. She came violently, her clit exploding. Her body folded, spasming. As she started coming down, light-headed, his hand slid further down on her stomach. He had two, then three fingers in her sopping wet pussy. He curled them and thrust in and out of her. She moved her feet as wide as they could to give Mr. Anders access. He adjusted the way he knelt in the sand, turned his hand, and she felt a second orgasm approaching. Was he on the G-spot? She never knew she had one, and she had looked. She grabbed his huge belly, holding on to anything as the second orgasm ripped through her body. Waves of glowing warmth spread from between her thighs as she caught her breath. Her body stopped its shaking and she struggled to breath. Things calmed down. THUD! Mr. Anders hit the sand. Angela rose to kneel at his side. First aid lessons scrolled through her head. She was about to look, listen, and feel for breath when she heard him laugh. "No, dear, I'm fine. I'm an old man and I can't hold myself up like that for long. I think I'll just take a break on my back." Still naked, she moved closer and laid next to him, her tits pushed into his bare arm. "That was amazing," she said, "You guys know how to handle a woman." He smiled up at the sky. "I should very much like to pleasure you with my mouth, if possible. I'll double the total, please." Angela couldn't see herself cumming a third time, but she nodded. He didn't look like he was getting up anytime soon. She stood over him, with his head between her feet. She squatted down, her ass hovering over his face. His tongue made contact with her asshole and she jumped an inch. The sensation was sexy and dirty. She knelt over him, facing his body. A sigh escaped her as his tongue slid between the folds of her pussy lips. His hands reached up and pulled her hips down, very gently. She sat back and put some pressure on his face. Mr. Anders' mouth started to work her over, slurping at her cunt. She wondered how it looked, a tan, healthy, completely naked young woman sitting on a fat old man's face. Steam curled up from her pussy as he continued to nibble and suck. She leaned forward slightly and his tongue massaged her clit. Angela closed her eyes, in heaven. Minute after minute went by. Angela occasionally adjusted her position for Mr. Anders, offering him her asshole, her pussy, or her clit. He was happy to have any in his mouth. He talked all day which lead Angela to believe he could do this for a long time. She was fine with getting eaten out for an afternoon. His hands reached over her thighs and went to her ass. He pulled her cheeks apart and swirled his tongue around her asshole. She heard him, muffled, say "relax." She relaxed the muscles in her body and he put his tongue in her ass. It went in a quarter inch, but the feeling was divine for Angela. Nothing had been in her ass before. Pleasure shot through her body now and Mr. Anders fucked her asshole with his tongue. Her entire body was on fire. Angela wanted to fuck. She straightened up and reached over Mr. Anders' large belly to his belt. She undid it quickly and yanked down his Bermuda shorts with his underwear. She pulled his shirt up off his belly and climbed over him to get to his crotch. Her nipples grazed his skin. "Ummm... my dear?" came from behind her, tentatively. "Yes?" "I just want you to know that I don't have many erections. I don't want you to think you're not beautiful or I'm not interested." Angela laughed on the inside. "We'll see what happens, Mr. Anders," she said. She pulled his lower stomach up and headed for his dick. It was pale, small, and surrounded by kinky gray hair. She laid over him to get her mouth on him. It was like being on an exercise ball. Angela's mouth covered Mr. Anders' cock. She had no reason to move her head up and down with his size, so she ran her tongue in and out of her mouth, rubbing the underside of his shaft. She heard a groan behind her. His hands found their way to the back of her thighs and caressed upward. She pushed back on his hand, impaling herself on his fingers. His fingers pumped in and out of her pussy in rhythm with her tongue on his dick. Angela worked his cock, trying to excite Mr. Anders. Several minutes of no response made her worry. Could old guys get blue balls? It would be terrible if she came several times and she couldn't get him off. She pulled her mouth off him. "Mr. Anders, is there anything I can do get you off?" "Well, my dear, one thing worked a few years ago, several times, but I don't want to ask." "Of course I have to ask now that you say that! What was it?" "You do this to me." He strained to pull himself off the ground. His mouth went between Angela's thighs and he rimmed her for a few seconds. He lay back, breathing heavily. Angela shrugged. It couldn't be that bad. Mr. Anders had just showered recently. "Roll over on your hands and knees, please," she said. He did so, but he couldn't hold the position for more then a second. His torso and upper body crashed to ground, his ass still in the air. Angela knelt behind him, suddenly uncertain. Old man ass was not attractive, she thought. Flesh sagged and hung, splotches were everywhere. Time had taken its toll on his old body. She ran her hands along the insides of his thighs. He jerked at the touch, fat wobbling. She leaned forward, trying to breath out her mouth. There wasn't a bad smell. A little sweat, no big deal. Angela couldn't yet bring herself to lick his asshole, so she focused on his balls, running her tongue along the seam of his sack. She got a face full of gray hair. Mr. Anders groaned in pleasure. Biting the bullet, Angela moved her face upward. Her tongue poked out of her mouth, barely grazing the dark, wrinkled skin. He must have been sensitive, Angela later thought, because his entire body surged backward, forcing her tongue into his ass. She pulled her head away, disgusted and turned on. Wait, she thought, I liked it? She gave him another lick, more forceful. His body shimmied. Angela wondered what she would discover next. She was getting turned on having her tongue in Mr. Anders' ass. She pushed on the insides of his knees, getting him to widen his stance. Her face went back between his legs, her tongue shoved as far up his asshole as it would go. He was almost squealing as Angela wiggled and rubbed with her tongue. She reached underneath him to find him hard at four inches. She started pumping his cock and put her mouth directly on his asshole. She sucked and licked, stroking him. Mr. Anders cried out loudly. Angela held on as his big body spasmed and shook. 10 seconds later, it was over. She had a hand full of his cum. He slumped to his side and she sat next to him. His pants were only down to his knees and the mess was considerable. Angela looked at him, now rolled over on his back, and smiled. His eyes paused on her breasts for a moment before he met her gaze. "That was incredible. Let me give you something extra when we get back." Angela nodded and put her clothes back on. She knew the two of them would make it back to his room before anyone saw them. The heat was miserable and they wouldn't get caught today. A second thought bounded into her head. She hoped he'd let her do that to him again. She shook her head at herself, wondering if she'd ever date a man under 70 in her life. If she worked here, she could, but college was full of young guys unsure of what the hell was going on. She just needed to stay here a while and not get found out. Helping Mr. Anders with his pants, still basking in the excitement of dirty sex and her own orgasms, Angela wondered what would happen if she were ever caught.