****** The Voyeur Fucks his Target by UK Snowy ******
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The Voyeur Fucks his Target


Part One -- Initial Sightings

It was very odd. It was a situation you'd have thought was connected with one
of those Sex In Public dares. I was sat in the cafe well ahead of the evening
performance of a concert by the local symphony orchestra, sipping a beer. There
were a few folk about, several I knew well from being regular annual
subscribers to the orchestra programme. Most were old fogies and boring but
wealthy and would often join in a drink for some company. T

here was this couple across the room who were regulars too, but I'd never seen
them in the cafe before. Not very well turned out, dowdy clothes, she had
scruffy curly blonde hair whilst his black mop was a mess. I gazed partly out
of the window at passers by and partly at the evening paper and also scanning
inside the place for the classic voyeur sighting I craved. Not much chance in
here I had surmised already because the waitresses, the usual student part
timers hadn't appeared, but suddenly it happened.

This couple across the room, the most unlikely couple, she about forty five and
he about twenty or so gave me the shock of the evening. He had slid his upper
body across the woman as if resting on her shoulder, she as if consoling him
and his hand had dropped onto her thigh. I knew from observing them over the
last two or three years, only at these concerts, that he was mentally
disturbed, maybe she was his carer and I also knew she seemed devoted to him.
She could have been his step mother too, but not his birth mother because he
was distinctly Indian or Pakistani or such. Very dark features, glowing big
teeth and wiry body, made it difficult to assess his age.

A tea cup and saucer were spilt to the floor and rattled behind me and I
swivelled to see that the first of the younger generation of waitresses had
come on duty. Legs up to her arm pits, bum sheathed in the tightest pair of
bootleg pants, not a sign of VPL, ahah a thong or nothing? Blonde, willowy,
with tight little tits high on her lithe torso, she was sexy.

She was brushed out of the way by one of the older waitresses and sent to the
kitchen and as I turned disappointed back to my scanning, the youth opposite
put his hand on the woman's knee then thrust it straight up her skirt. Under
the table, I could see her tights clad thighs open, just fleetingly as his hand
fumbled, surely she was enjoying it, then she swiped his hand away, looked
guiltily around and tidied her skirt, before scolding him. He sulkily reverted
to staring vacantly around, his mouth occasionally mouthing things. I studied
them or rather her, closer.

She was not unattractive, with a cheery although well worn face and minus
makeup. Also when swathed in the jumper and an over waistcoat type of garment,
over a thick wooly skirt, I had no chance of assessing her figure. I did recall
seeing her during the summer and remembered that she had quite a formidable
bosom and wide hips, so I had that knowledge to work on. But what was their
relationship?

The concert time arrived and there was no further incident. The odd couple did
sit in the choir stalls round the back of the orchestra, so I did have chance
to observe them. Once he did slide across her in the same way as I'd seen in
the cafe, but there was no groping. She merely placed her arm round his
shoulders and more or less comforted him as she listened intently to the Elgar
Symphony.

I was more distracted by some choicer females. A young girl of maybe twelve,
who had obviously dressed for an occasion and her maroon filmy party dress was
a bit short when considering she was sat on a bench facing about two thousand
people. Disappointingly, there was no opportunity other than guessing on the
view, as her lower limbs were concealed behind the man in front of her. Along
the same row as her, was also a very tasty pair of tits that wobbled
dramatically every time the girl who owned them fidgeted.

During the interval, I got one or two eyefuls of cleavage and some tight bums
in skirts and pants, but nothing more, as I expected. Being a qualified expert
on behavioural matters and with my own practice and consultancies at two
hospitals, I was intrigued about the couple, but had nothing to go on and
forgot about them.

Amazingly in the town two days later, on the Saturday, I came across them
again. I was out on a typical voyeuring patrol, it being end of April and just
at the point where girls were switching to skirts from their winter woolies.
Helped by a lovely mild spell in the weather. I ventured out into town, hoping
for the odd peep of thighs and knickers. In a department store, I wandered
around, as if aimlessly, but on a mission. I saw the odd couple again and
ventured close, distracted this time by them, away from my usual targets of
teenagers and the like, bending and stopping to examine garments on rails and
racks. The funny thing was that were several choice girls about, but I was
drawn to the couple for some reason.

Then it happened. Tucked away at the back of the display area, he stuck his
hand up her skirt from behind and goosed her. Once again, just like in the
cafe, there was the fleeting pause before she wriggled away and chastised him
and he groaned audibly as she ushered him out in a somewhat flustered manner. I
got on with my viewings of the tasty bits and saw quite a few thrills. I
resolved that the time was right to get my camcorder rig out again and
infiltrate the scenes of many of my past triumphs in catching upskirt pictures.
Summer was on its way and the system needed reviewing. I'd lasted the winter in
swapping discs and stills with my friends with equal interests and emailing
lots to an internet voyeur specialist site. Two disastrous marriages had put me
off direct or lasting relationships and I'd resigned myself to being a loner,
albeit a wealthy loner, with time and money to lavish on my own specialist
kicks.

Of course if I got the chance for a fuck then I would take it, but it wasn't
that important any more. Maybe it was just that I was obsessed with porn and
all things related to it. My video and photo library were renowned amongst my
close associates and the upskirt shots were a great success with them. In the
department store today, most skirts were longish and their wearers had tights
on, but even then long skirts have proved I can capture scintillating sights
provided that I can get the bag with camcorder low enough. It's amazing how
many girls are not wearing panties these days. Thongs are the norm generally of
course and provide unlimited scope for capturing stills of their arse cheeks
and the gap between and that wonderful pouch of cotton, nylon or silk at the
front that holds their cunt. The idea that a very narrow strip of material
carves through their crack, it must split their cunt lips surely, and finishes
up being chewed and munched by their pussies and their arseholes was very
exciting.

Can you imagine how damp and soggy and wonderfully smelly that would be at the
end of the day? But the thrill of getting home and seeing that I've captured a
target who isn't wearing a stitch underneath is almost climatic in itself. Okay
yes, some of them have huge meaty legs and rampant cellulite, but even those
females must consider the daring of not wearing knickers.

The next few days and evenings were extremely busy workwise and taking off the
next Friday afternoon, I ventured out again. I went to the park and lo and
behold, there were the odd couple sitting at a bench feeding ducks on the lake.
Not many people were enjoying the sunshine so I stayed near and watched over
the top of a magazine, using my tried and tested skills in not being observed
myself. Ignoring him, I studied her, as she took advantage of the mildness in
the air.

She wore a voluminous shirt with no nipple bulges, over her shoulders was
thrown a navy blue jumper and she wore a loose flowing skirt. Her legs were
encased in tights and she had neat trim ankles. The big chance happened again
and totally unexpected was its source. Two very tasty young chicks cycled by.
Short shorts showing buttocks edges, tight tee shirts, straining bras, long
limbs flexing and straining. They looked a treat and I ogled them not caring if
they saw me which they did. I licked my lips at the prospect of sniffing their
cycle saddles and I saw clear VPLs on both of them. Hmm! How gorgeously smelly
they would be after all that exercise.

They went out of sight and there was no one else around except me and the
couple. I glanced at them and he had his hand inside her shirt and she was
letting him do it. It was simply staggering, I mean they were so unmatched and
odd and considering the times I had seen them, it was peculiar. Her head
constantly bobbed about, she was watching out and her hands were poised to pull
the jumper down and conceal his movements, because he was moving his arm lots.

He was rolling her tits and I could hear the odd groan from him as he grinned
stupidly up at her. I silently begged him to go further and open her shirt to
show me her boobs. It would have been good whatever her age and there was no
chance of an upskirt as her knees were tightly closed. Did she have a brassiere
on?

As it happened I didn't care, because then, he suddenly pulled his hand out,
giving me a minute flash of breast before he got down on his knees and thrust
his hand up her skirt.

"No Sanjay," she shouted looking around, trying to budge him. Fascinated, I
watched as he flung her skirt up over her thighs and revealed one of her legs.
Chubby knees yes, clad in tights no, but holdup stockings yes...Wow!

"Sanjay no!" she cried out and I thought about the next move. She was having
trouble controlling him and I went into action. I hastened the few yards over
to them as her face turned to horror at my approach. She more or less muscled
him away and pulled him to sit down and flustered with her skirt. Red faced she
looked up as I stood over them. She was actually quite pretty in a natural,
mature kind of way.

"You seem to be having trouble with this young man. May I help you?" I asked
smoothly in my cultured professional tone.

"No no thank you. He's okay now. Just gets over excited, but I can manage thank
you. I'll be alright. Thank you," she blushed as I peered at her cleavage,
before she hid it from me. It was crinkly creased and freckled and I guessed
she was well on the long end of forty.

"Are you sure? It's not right for a chap to put his hand up skirts in the park,
but you obviously know him well," I continued, noticing a considerable groin
bulge in the lad's pants as he leered open wet mouthed at me.

"Yes yes I do. It's okay I'm used to i...Well it's okay. He means well. Thank
you thank you," she gushed, wishing I would go away.

"Look, here's my card. If I can help you in any way please contact me. I'm a
specialist on human mental behaviour. See my name and qualifications. I lecture
at the University, you can check me out there, that's the number," I indicated,
handing her my business card. "There's maybe something we can do about it. I've
dealt with cases like this one before."

"No no it'll be alright. I know him well enough, it's just that...er... out
here with all these..." she faltered, gesturing at a couple of schoolgirls,
giggling their way past. Lost in their chattering they took no notice of us,
but I took notice of them.

Yes summer was on its way. Short skirts were back, but that was the only
concession as beneath the grey regulation skirts, they both had black opaque
tights on over those clumpy black shoes. One was oriental, the other English,
both cute and both about fourteen.

"Ah! You mean girls is that what it is?" I grinned. "May I sit down?"

She simpered and gushed, but didn't say yes, so I stood for a while longer, the
situation fascinating me. She pulled the jumper over her chest and swathed her
skirt closer, nipping her knees. The youth jabbered a bit but was of no
consequence.

"Is it girls that upset him?" I pursued. "It can often be a trigger, like in
any male, especially in the spring ha, ha! Unfortunate sometimes isn't it?"

She didn't respond and stared pointedly away, wishing me away I think. I
decided reluctantly to leave, but why I'm still not sure. I wasn't interested
in her. I was an expert voyeur and yes she had given me the odd flash, Ah, yes
the holdup stockings. I turned on my heel and left the park.


Part Two -- Mission accomplished

Some days later, the telephone rang and the voice tremulated over the line.
"It's me, from the park the other day. I'm in trou...well I'm not but... Oh
dear...er...er maybe you can help me, ..er er! Sanjay I mean," she finally
added.

"Would you like me to visit you or you can come here. With Sanjay I presume?" I
asked. "There will be no fee initially that is, but let's sort that later."

I went to the address given, two evenings later. A huge house in a once better
part of town, but now very much apartments and student accommodation. She
opened the door warily and gave a brief smile, the first I'd received and it
was hesitant.

"Good evening, do you know you never gave me your name on the phone. It would
be helpful," I suggested, taking in her curly clean hair, polished complexion,
her full cut blue and yellow striped shirt and blue patterned knee length
skirt. Tidy flat pumps clad her small feet.

"Mo, er Maureen....Maureen Gibson, but you can call me Mo if you like," she
added shyly. "And I will Mo and you may call me Henry, but you know my full
name don't you ha, ha?"

I followed her into the depths of the light and airy house, watching her ample
hips undulate heavily and she led me to a pleasant outlooking but shabbily
furnished lounge. There was no sign of Sanjay. We sat opposite and I prompted
her with my eyes, checking the strain on her shirt buttons, was there a
brassiere? Wow I don't think so judging by the gentle wobble beneath.

I studied the way Mo wrapped her skirt tightly round her legs. I spotted
synthetic material on them and guessed maybe holdups again.

"It's this," she suddenly blurted, thrusting a free local newspaper across at
me. It wasn't one I received. "Page three."

I turned the pages and scanned until she told me the bottom of the page.
Sandwiched between adverts for UPVC windows and a plasterer there was a report
on a youth being taken to the police station for indecent assault. No names
were mentioned and no charges were brought against the youth, but it was
reported he was Asian aged eighteen, the female victim was forty nine and it
had happened in the park where I had seen Mo and Sanjay.

"You and Sanjay?" I asked gently. Mo nodded and peered at her hands which were
tense and wrapped round each other. At least I established her age. I moved to
her side and she immediately budged away along the sofa. Hmm! Defensive. I
asked her what happened and she explained.

"There were lots of girls, a school outing or expedition or something, but he
got all excited and the next thing was that he was tearing at my skirt,
literally tearing it, it's a mess. The girls screamed which made him worse,
they were only feet away on the grass and he put his hand ri......Oh
dear...right up, you know?" she pleaded.

I knew alright.

"He was ranting and I can usually control him, but not this time. He tore my
shirt too. Two teachers ran over to help and jumped on him, flattening him and
he went all quiet until the police arrived and well......" Mo sobbed into her
hands and I put my hand on her shoulders, partly in sympathy but feeling for a
bra strap. Nothing. Her tits jiggled as she sobbed and then she relented to my
slight tug and she buried her face in my shoulder. Her shirt fell as open as it
could with high buttons, but there was enough cleavage and I feasted on the two
inches or so as she took my caring cuddle, pouring her tears out.

"Er! How old were the girls?"

"Year sevens, eights I s'pose. Didn't have time to notice, young though," she
answered.

I pondered the view in my mind. "They have skirts on?" I asked, hopefully not
too obviously. Mo nodded.

I imagined the twelve, thirteen year old limbs curled under the girls as they
languished chatting on the grass. Long, lissom, curvy, chubby, leading up to
gorgeously baby plump thighs and hips surrounding tight buns with white cotton
panties over some bald and some slightly haired pussies. What a view to a
voyeur it would have been. I remembered the gaggle that would gather at my
home, when my daughter's friends called. It was tantalising and worth every
penny of the cams I set up. Primitive compared to today's equipment of course,
but I captured many yards of tape of them in the toilet and in the shower,
precious to this day. I asked about Sanjay. She told me he was in his room as
she sat straight and wiped her eyes with my spotless handkerchief.

"So just who is Sanjay. I mean is he a friend, or part of the family or what?"
I asked gently.

"He is a foster child. I've had him since he was ten. I used - well Michael and
I, that's my husband, ex husband used to foster loads of children. This place
used to be full of them and such fun and of course lots of hard work," Mo
gestured vaguely round the room as she dabbed at her eyes.

"And where's Michael. You say ex?"

"He walked out seven years ago. I couldn't handle all of them and gradually I
lost all the children, but Sanjay who is a problem child as you are aware, was
left with me. It was felt the right thing to do, on the understanding I didn't
take any others in. He's very talented, well an athlete, a sprinter actually,
but I can't let him into competitions because he just...well he would get into
trouble, so I keep him entertained. I do love him awfully you know," Mo said
ernestly.

I nodded and patted her thigh in sympathy. She didn't move her leg when I left
my hand lightly resting on it.

"Is it girls? As simple as that in your mind that gets him disturbed?" I
quizzed.

Mo nodded. "You know. Short skirts, tight shirts, the usual things. I mean he's
a growing lad and well...." her voice tailed away and she glanced guiltily at
me. She moved her leg and my hand slipped off her thigh. She didn't continue as
I waited, but there was something deep which seemed to want to come out. I
placed my hands over Mo's trembling hands and spoke.

"Let's bring him in shall we?" She nodded and muttered agreement and bustled
away, shortly to return with the problem youth. He sat quietly in a chair apart
from some mumblings and grins. I gave him a bit of an aptitude test and he
managed reasonably, as much as I expected. I got Mo to take off his tracksuit
and studied his physique which was wiry although well muscled as he stood in
his shorts and tee shirt. While she removed his trackie bottoms, he stood with
his hands on her shoulders, even as she bent to jerk them off his legs. He
leered at her as she did and then there was just the slightest jerk of his
shorts at his groin.

"The thing that intrigues me," I turned to her. "It's you he's touching in
these assaults. He's not going for the girls is he?"

Mo shook her head and blushed and she looked really sweet for her mature years.

"He sees me as safe I suppose. I've had to bath him for years, well for as long
as we...I had him. Still do," the last two words in almost a careless mewing
little whisper.

"Did you say you still do?" I asked incredulously and she nodded almost
imperceptibly. "Aha! And you bath him all over?"

She nodded again. "I know I shouldn't, but he gets so upset and throws a fit
and I, well I... I... well I..." she sobbed. Mo burst into tears and Sanjay
came to her side opposite me and I let him hug the stricken woman. He in his
shorts and tee shirt and me in my suit. I patted her knee and he squealed. I
guessed why, but I let him take part, watching for other reactions. His eyes
were rivetted to my hand and when I squeezed Mo's warm fleshy limb, I got one
obvious one. His shorts started to balloon at the front as he got an erection
and he was only hugging her shoulders. It was time for the big questions, as
she gradually quietened.

"Mo. I get the impression there's something below the surface here. You want to
tell me, but daren't. I don't know why, but I think it's something that may
help Sanjay and yourself of course. It's in absolute confidence of course on my
professional basis you understand." She leveled her face with mine and for the
first time those soft brown eyes looked inside me and I felt suddenly exposed.
Yes, I'm a professional, highly qualified, well respected person in my field.
But I'm also a voyeur and a lover of porn.

Mo gulped and poured the words out. "It's since Michael left me. Sanjay was
very upset too because Michael found the athlete within and nurtured him.
Michael ran off with Sanjay's coach, a young black girl, long jumper and
sprinter. Sanjay was very attached to her. It took him ages to recover, well me
too you can understand, but together we made a new life and it's only recently
that Sanjay has been starting to act like he does, because I get so tired with
his demands and refuse him. I'm no youngster Henry."

"You're only forty nine Mo. I'm fifty five and feel eighty five most days," I
chuckled. "Anyway these demands, tell me about them." Sanjay sat quietly
listening, his hands on his lap as if hiding the erection still evident, but I
could see two fingers squeezing it. Mo glanced at him and he leered and openly
nodded down to his groin lifting his hands and raising his bushy eyebrows. She
groaned and looked at me as if to say, well see for yourself.

"Well he is extremely well built you understand?" she said meekly. "And I did
miss Michael so."

"Ah! So you and Sanjay comforted each other...in bed?"

Mo nodded and sighed again. "I know it's wrong, but it was quite innocent in
its way," she whispered. "It's not illegal either." The last words almost
challenging.

"I know. So it wasn't just compassionate reasons that you kept him?" I asked
softly. "It's Okay. I'm not going to repeat any of this. You know, I've been
married twice and both of them went off with younger men. It's a sod isn't it?
Especially when you are highly se...well when you need someone in bed."

Mo nodded into her lap. Sanjay openly fiddled with his knob which was near to
bursting through his shorts.

"He gets jealous when any other man touches me you know?" said Mo, trying to
knock his fingers away from his self play.

"And how many men do touch you Mo?" I queried gently, excited that I was on a
trail, quite where to I didn't know.

"None - well not like you mean, but just your hand on my knee set him off
before," she answered, giving up with Sanjay who had grabbed her hand and put
it on top of the pole that was pyramiding his shorts. She giggled and looked
helplessly at me.

Good, I thought humour is there at last. "We can do something about his over
excitement, I mean he's obviously well bless...." My words stopped as Sanjay
made an extravagant movement with his hips, thrusting his groin into the air
and out popped his cock. Mo's hand shot back to her lap as she squealed at him.
but I quietened her by patting her thigh and squeezing it. The youth screamed a
loud noise as his eyes saw my continued patting and he leapt to his feet, the
thick black prong waving before him like the bowsprit of an old warship.
Instead of throwing himself at me in anger, he dived at Mo and she disappeared
under his thrashing arms and legs as he tore at her clothing, forcing his knee
between her legs. I slid back and watched as she called my name.

"Henry...." It was a weak plea, not meant wholeheartedly I felt, so I didn't go
to her aid. It was perfectly voyeuristic country to watch a woman get fucked
rotten, right in front of my eyes. I wished I had a cam corder set up, but this
was going to be seared on my brain for a long time I could see.

Her legs didn't kick Sanjay, her arms didn't thrash at him, scratching and
thumping as if in a rape incident. I wanted to watch but I wanted to take part
too. This was all happening on the very sofa I perched on and I saw Mo's leg
being flung my way as the youth prepared to thrust into her. I moved and tapped
him on the shoulder.

"Sanjay, Sanjay. Let me help you," I suggested calmly and quietly. It took him
by surprise and he raised up and stood in front of me quivering and unsettled.
Now, clearly, I saw the magnificence of his genitals and I could see why Mo was
reluctant to let him go. I could also see Mo's natural state. Her chubby legs
were cast aside and remained that way as I challenged the youth.

Above the holdup stockings was a very bare and hairy beaver winking at me. Wet,
glistening and very tasty looking. My eyes swivelled from the gorgeous sight
back to his impressive collection, poking from the front of his shorts. Black
stiff and maybe eight inches of solid dick waved in front of Sanjay's swaying
body. It's thickness was the eye opener. It must have been three inches
diameter with a bare, cut, orangey pink helmet oozing lube.

"Oh Henry, I didn't mean for you to see me like this but..." whimpered Mo,
finally trying to put her skirt down over her crotch. She failed because it was
rumpled beneath her ass.

"It's okay Mo dear. You both want to fuck, I can see. It's something you do all
the time then?" She nodded and bleated as Sanjay stood and glowered at our
conversation, unsure of his next move. I had certainly stopped him in his
tracks.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Well you can see what he's like," Mo nodded sweetly at his
cock. "He wasn't raping me you know," she added gently.

I nodded in agreement and smiled at her then him and he smiled stupidly back. I
stood beside him making him flinch slightly until I raised his tee shirt over
his head. I knelt and dropped his shorts, handling his hot cock to feed it back
through them. Mo gasped as I pulled on it, but soon stopped as I placed my hand
on her cunt and felt for her clitoris. It was easily found and she reacted
immediately with loud groans and swaying her head back. Sanjay moaned too as I
wanked his dick.

"Does he do this for you Mo?" I asked as I tweaked her button.

"No. I've tried to teach him but he just goes bull at a gate sort of thing...
Oooohhhhh!" she simpered.

I took Sanjay's hand and pulled him down to his knees and placed it on her twat
which was getting greasier by the second. I showed him how to finger it gently
and he seemed to take it in. Had I hit on the fact that he needed male
tutoring? He fiddled quite competently and I left him to indulge as I
undressed. Mo didn't notice, she was in seventh heaven, getting clitoral
stimulation from someone else's fingers than her own for many years. She was
obviously highly sexed, judging by her state of readiness when Sanjay first
leapt on her, maybe the rough stuff turned her on.

"But Henry," gasped Mo, happening to open her eyes as I stood naked next to
Sanjay. "What are you...?"

I put my fingers over my lips to hush her and her eyes slid down my paunchy
body to my burgeoning erection. Her eyes shot wide open and she smiled as I
lifted it showing her the hood of my foreskin and large sac of bollocks. I'm
not particularly well endowed, just average, but my gonads swing low and heavy.
I patted Sanjay and he smiled a wide open face splitting welcome as I stooped
to join him.

Together we splayed Mo's cunt lips apart as he continued to flick her clit and
she moaned with pleasure. "Something you haven't had done for years then?" I
quizzed her. "Since Michael?"

"Nooo!" she groaned. "Don't stop please."

I wasn't intending to. I told Sanjay to fuck her and he jumped up eagerly,
levering himself inside her wide apart legs as I grasped his dick. He certainly
liked being handled and let me guide his huge knob to Mo's sloppy minge. All
the time I kept up the clitty flicks, keeping Mo on the boil until he pushed it
in and sank into her hairy snatch by about five inches. He knew what to do and
started to energetically ram at her and it wasn't necessary for me to flick her
clit. I walked round behind the low backed sofa and stroked her face, making
her open her eyes in soft simpering recognition.

She smiled happily up at me as her head went into a jerking rag doll motion, as
her foster child turned youth lover shunted his black cock hard inside her.
Sanjay was grunting and saliva splattered from his loose lips, but retarded or
not he knew how to fuck. I lifted my nearly hard cock over her face and she
eagerly raised her head to lick at it as I let my knob slap down to her mouth.
Mo's lips curled lusciously round it and I felt for the first time for ages,
the succulence of a fellating female's mouth. I leaned forward to let her suck
me and she went at it hungrily.

Sanjay suddenly shot his load with a shout and very anguished looks wracked his
face. He fell onto her and just lay panting and slipping away onto the floor. I
took my chance and moved round, shoving him away. I managed to persuade Mo to
turn and kneel fully on the sofa so that I could kneel behind her on the much
softer surface. My old knees react badly to hard surfaces and if I'm not
careful cramp could set in too. The comfier position established I took stock
of the view. Roundness was the over riding key. Round, plump, spare flesh
buttocks wobbled brightly without the slightest trace of a suntan. Round
sculptured thighs with ripples of fat over the tops of her holdups curved down,
spreading to knees firmly planted wide apart.

I got Mo to get her knees off her skirt which was getting in the way and then I
feasted on the wonders of her crack. The thick round bun of her cunt, split
down the middle with fleshy loose labia, dripped Sanjay's very white cum,
making her matted pubes soppy and grey, such was the volume spilling from Mo.
Above there was the wide, round, darkened hollow of her arsehole and the
incredibly wrinkled knot in the centre. My cock wasn't fully hard, but I could
wedge enough meat into her pussy to gain an entrance and squeeze the rest in by
pressurising my groin onto hers. Mo wailed, catching Sanjay's attention as I
soaked in his juices for a moment. There is no problem being second in my view
and a sloppy twat is more inviting than one which is so dry that it fair rubs
the skin of the old donger. The youth grinned and stood up peering closely, as
I started to fuck Mo.

I grabbed his hand and placed it over her ass, prodding his finger at her ring.
I nodded encouragingly and his grin took on the cheeky countenance of the true
teenager. He jabbed at Mo's sphincter and she lurched and shouted something,
but kept her head buried in cushions. I was now fully erect and fucking a cunt
hard for the first time for ages. Doggy style always was my favourite position.
Sanjay poked at Mo's back passage and we got no adverse reactions from that
either.

Soon I was cumming. I pumped my useless sperm into her. My vasectomy of years
ago very useful at these times and I assumed Mo was either past it or she had
been sterilized too. She must have had Sanjay's babies by now. I fell onto her
and she collapsed, but soon she wanted her own orgasm and she made us both
nibble and suck on her cunt until she went through what looked like a very
fulfilling and exciting climax. An hour or so passed with the three of us
exploring each other's sex, Sanjay learning, Mo climaxing and me realising that
there is much more to peeping up girl's skirts with a camera. Wanking to the
voyeuristic experiences is very easy and satisfying, but to bury one's cock
deep inside a woman so hungry for it is still the best experience ever.

Even my moments with the ever willing Sanjay and his huge dong were uplifting.
I'd never had the urge to fondle another man's cock before, but in these
circumstances, it seemed natural. After all he was not forceful, he was sub
normal and in sheltered state, not communicating with the outside world at
large and therefore safe. I must admit a thrill to holding his thick wadge of
cock flesh, tempting it back to erectness, which wasn't much of a problem, with
hands and lips and rubbing it round Mo's ever willing orifices.

She proved to be amazingly open and wanton and many times since we have enjoyed
the most incredible sex threesomes at her rambling big house. She has also
taken to going out in the streets with much brighter and trendier gear, not to
make her look younger, but to give me the opportunity of filming up her skirt
and then enjoying the results with Sanjay. She has stood legs apart at knicker
stalls, bent wickedly low to peer at things on bottom shelves, got her skirt
caught up in shopping baskets in public and I have won two competitions on a
voyeur net site for nude in public photo sessions.

FIN

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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