Chapter 8
Mrs. Grimes stood waiting for him in the middle of the over-furnished bedroom. Her pudgy hands were stretched behind her back as she fumbled unsuccessfully with the zipper of her dress. In a futile attempt to be coy and girlish, she simpered at him and offered him her back to unzip.
Alec's half-hard prick swayed pendulously as he crossed the room toward her. Hoping to stimulate it into some semblance of life, he let it rub against the fabric of her dress as her zipper eased open.
Feeling the heat of his tool against her, she rubbed her overweight arse on his dong as she slipped the tentlike folds of her dress over her head.
Alec gulped as she turned to face him. That he should come to this. He lowered his scrutiny from the old, wrinkled face with its pathetic trowelled-on cosmetics. A sagging fold of flesh hung under her chin and seemed to drip over the hollows of her neck. The layers of lardlike fat flowed down her body like congealed grease. Her huge bust that billowed out from under the concealment of her clothes now lay hanging from her chest like two bolsters.
As she wriggled herself up closer to him, he could smell her wet, eager twat. A feeling of nausea flooded through Alec's stomach like a douche of cold water. He gagged, swallowed, and gagged again.
Mrs. Grimes looked at him suspiciously. "What's the matter with you, honey?"
Despite the endearment, her voice was cold and ready for an argument.
Alec looked at her pathetically. "Must be something I ate. I feel sick to my stomach."
Mrs. Grimes was unsympathetic. "Turn your head if you're going to throw up, but start showing some action. Either that or pay up the rent you owe me..."
"Alright, alright. Get me a Turns or something, will you? Nervous indigestion. Got a big deal on ice. Stand to make a bundle if the leading lady doesn't cop out on me."
The landlady was at the bathroom cabinet and back with the indigestion tablets before he had finished talking. Pouring a liberal dose into the palm of his hand, he transferred them to his mouth and threw his head back to swallow them. The bed squeaked as Mrs. Grimes threw herself abandonedly amongst the unmade sheets.
"Come and get me, big daddy. I'm all yours."
There was dignity in the resignation of Alec's walk across the room toward the scene of his coming endeavor. The eyes that looked at her out of a haggard face were those of a French aristocrat surveying the unsympathetic proletariat as he was being led to the guillotine. The mercenary Mrs. Grimes ignored the performance and, like Shylock, demanded her pound of flesh. Or rather his limp six inches of prick.
The bed squeaked again as Alec cautiously lowered his unwilling body onto it. He knelt over Mrs. Grimes and tried one last despairing effort.
"I was telling you about this big deal I've got coming up," he began hesitantly. "Well, I stand to make a bundle. I could pay up the rent I owe you, and maybe a little off next month's as well. It's practically in..."
Mrs. Grimes voice was hoarse with passion and barely controlled lust as she cut him off in mid-sentence. "Like hell you will. Money I've got. It's cock I'm short of. Since Mr. Grimes died. God rest his soul."
She turned the whites of her eyes piteously up to the ceiling for a moment before continuing.
"Since my late husband passed away, I've never had a steady supply of dick. Having you in the building has been a Godsend. We've got this little arrangement worked out. When you can't pay, you screw. So stop talking and start acting. Make with the joystick, feller."
Alec fell onto the bed defeated, his body unprotected and limp in complete surrender. In spite of her bulk, Mrs. Grimes was on top of him in a flash, her wet mouth raining kisses on him as she ferreted between his legs for his deflated dong.
With a cry of triumph, she fished it out and started to stroke it into some semblance of life. There was very little reaction and her disappointment gave a sharp edge to her words.
"I told you that I want satisfaction. If you have to work at it all night, I'm still going to have it."
Alec patted her free hand. "I know it looks as if I don't want to screw you, but it's something else. Something much deeper."
Mrs. Grimes still kept on massaging his prick as she looked at him questioningly.
"Like what?" was her uncompromising reply.
"Like I think too much of you." Even to himself, his voice sounded unconvincing. He tried it in a lower, more dramatic key.
"Mrs. Grimes... er... may I call you Pamela?"
Receiving a nod from the woman towering over him, he went on more hopefully. "You see, in my business, motion pictures, I have always thought of sex as being something-how can I say it-well, sort of animal. Among all the screwing that goes on, I have always had the hope, the dream, that somewhere there was a woman. A sweet, adorable woman that I could love for herself alone. Someone whom I could respect and... well... love. A woman whose mind worked on a higher plane than those sex-crazed starlets that have only one thing to offer... a beautiful body."
Mrs. Grimes' hand was slowing down a little in its monotonous jerking of his limp meat. Sensing her interest, Alec put a little more into his performance.
"In you, dear lady, I think I have found that dream, that ideal for which all men seek. It's your mind. The aura of sacred womanhood that surrounds you that prevents me from desiring you physically."
Her hand had stopped working on his tool. Seizing the opportunity, Alec pressed it to his lips fervently in a manner reminiscent of the late Valentino. His paramour's suspicions were not yet completely removed.
"You having me on?" she questioned him.
Holding onto her hand so as she couldn't get at his rod again, Alec slipped off the bed until he was kneeling beside it like a Victorian suitor.
"Of course not, my dear." He raised Mrs. Grimes' large hand up to place it on his heart.
"Feel the pounding of my heart. It beats with emotion for you."
Mrs. Grimes' hand crept up past his offered heart and grabbed him by the purple cravat. Relentlessly she pulled his head down until their faces were inches from each other.
"If you're bullshitting me, I'll have your goddamned guts for garters. Understand?"
Alec nodded dumbly, afraid of the sleeping beast that he seemed to have aroused in his land lady. She let go of his neckerchief, allowing Alec to gulp in a long rasping breath of air.
"Get your things packed and move them down here." She motioned around the apartment. "There's more than enough room for us both. What's more, I'm not letting you out of my sight until I can get you before a justice of the peace."
With a sinking feeling in his guts, Alec realized that he had overplayed his part. The performance that he had given to escape from spending one night with this aging nymphomaniac had been a little too convincing. Now it looked as if he had got her for life, instead.
He was going to have to think of something, find a key that would unlock the shackles that he could already feel closing about his freedom. He thought frantically for a moment, then, fixing a look of outraged virtue on his face like a mask, he spoke urgently, his words tumbling out in his eagerness to convince her.
"What? Move in here with you? It's more than I dared hope for. But then, I couldn't, could I? Think of your good name. Think of what the other tenants would say?"
He looked at her for signs of her weakening. "I mean... er... we'd be living in sin. Shacking up together. No. I wouldn't let you compromise yourself in this manner. You are just too pure and sweet for me to do a thing like that to you. I mustn't take advantage of your good nature. Until we are married, I stay up in my own apartment. And now, dear sweet trusting Pamela, goodbye until we meet again. Very soon, I promise you."
He kissed her lightly on the forehead while feeling around on the floor with his free hand for his discarded trousers. His one thought was for escape. Once out of this love nest, he'd think of something to deter the old bag.
Holding his pants up in front of his sought-after dong, he backed toward the door. Once in the living room, the forced smile slipped from his face as he struggled into his pants. Fear made his fingers fumbled as he struggled with the zipper on his fly. He snatched his shirt off the coffee table, exposing the hideous snarl of the artificial teeth they were covering.
To his overwrought mind, words seemed to be hissing through the tightly closed porcelain teeth.
"Oh, Alec dear. Come back here. I want you."
The creak of bedsprings brought him back from his fear-induced fantasy. He hadn't escaped yet. Pamela was calling him from the bedroom.
Her voice rose a few octaves in its shrill demand. "Damn it. Come here when I call you."
Docilely he unzipped his pants and crossed over into the bedroom. Her large pink body was reclining languorously on the bed.
"Come and talk to me, honey. Tell me more about how you feel about me."
She reached across to the bedside table and rummaged around in a large box of chocolates. Selecting a soft center, she popped it into her mouth and settled back among the pillows.
"This is so romantic. I could listen to you all night. Tell me about your search for your dream girl."
The wheels spun around in Alec's mind. Talk to me all night, the old bag says. She'll be lucky when I've got a piece of cunt lined up like the broad at the laundromat. But how the hell to get off the hook?
To gain time, Alec picked up the plump, beringed hand as it crept into his lap, foiling her play for his weapon. He raised it to his lips again before the idea hit him.
Why thwart her desire to get fucked? If he could only satisfy her overactive libido, maybe he could get off the hook for a little while.
Reaching out for her other hand, he spread her arms wide apart, forcing her mountainous breasts into gigantic cushioning mounds. With a guttural cry of animal passion, he cast himself adrift on the billowing sea of her flesh.
"Pamela... Pamela, my love. It's hopeless. I cannot keep away from the ecstasy of your body. Give yourself to me. I must have you."
The breath whooshed from the open mouth of Mrs. Grimes as Alec's body landed on her. With an effort, she swallowed her half-eaten candy. As she struggled for her breath, Alec took advantage of her enforced silence and stuck one of her huge rubbery nipples in his mouth. He circled the dark brown areola with his tongue and listened to the heartbeats thudding away under his cushioned ear.
Success. The pounding of her heart showed him that she was enjoying it. Either that or she was choking to death on that damned soft-centered candy.
Holding onto the nipple with his teeth, he raised his head to check whether she was turning blue with asphyxiation. The relief flooded through him when he saw the pink flush of sexuality on her face.
With eye-closed intensity, she was moving her mouth in time with the probe of his nipple-tickling tongue. It was a pity to let all that jaw movement to go waste. Inching himself around upon his knees, Alec hunched his back up like a hairpin and presented his pecker against her working lips.
Without pausing or breaking the rhythm of her chewing movement, Mrs. Grimes opened her mouth and engulfed his prick. The recesses of her mouth felt sticky from the half-finished candy. He could feel her tongue glancing across his knob end as he searched out the cloying remains of the toffee in her cavities.
Obligingly Alec reached behind him and pushed his hand into the box of candy. Squeezing them between finger and thumb, he selected a soft center. Hooking his thumb into her mouth, he made a pouch of her cheeks and slipped the chocolate-coated sweet between her slack lips.
Mrs. Grimes made a soft, catlike sound of contentment, and Alec felt the lump of the candy as her tongue pushed it around and around his rapidly hardening prick.
His excited urethra dripped a clear lubricating secretion onto the pad of her tongue that was slowly churned up with the sickly sweetness of caramel. The greedy manner in which it was gulped down showed that it was to Mrs. Grimes' liking.
Satisfied with his progress so far, Alec humped his back up farther and made caterpillar movements, sending his now-hard six inches of prick sliding down his landlady's candy-coated throat.
The contortion required to keep his mouth attached to the plumb-sized nipple while slipping a length of cock into Mrs. Grimes's eager mouth was crippling Alec. He let the rubbery tits plop out of his sucking mouth and felt the relief in his back as he slid down the blubbery length of Mrs. Grimes' body to assume the sixty-nine position.
Anticipating his move, Mrs. Grimes had her legs spread and ready, allowing his head to slip between her ample thighs unimpeded.
Manfully, Alec took a deep breath like a deep-sea diver and buried his face in the fleshy folds of her hairy snatch. The taste was acrid, not at all like the sweet-smelling love pits of the eager young starlets that he had condemned as being overly young a few moments ago. But remembering what was at stake, Alec overcame his revulsion and drilled away like a trained poodle, a shudder of delight rumbled through the soggy body underneath him, and a flood of love juice oozed out of Mrs. Grimes' pulsating pussy. Unable to hold his breath any longer, Alec tried to withdraw his head to gulp a breath of fresh air. Two large capable hands held him captive.
In self-defense he drew the pod of her clitoris in between his teeth and bit hard.
A yelp of agony cut through Mrs. Grimes' moans of passion. For a moment, the strength went out of the grip on his head, and Alec extricated his wet face and surreptitiously wiped it on the crumpled bedsheet. Mrs. Grimes loosed the vacuum grip on his pecker as she tried to mouth a protest.
"Whaaa... ya... dooing to me."
The last words came out clearly as Alec pulled his gnawed dong from between her fleshy gums. Alec spun around on his knees and came feet to face with her.
"I can't hold out any longer. I must have you," he panted. "Now... surrender yourself to me."
Mrs. Grimes struggled with him. "No... I want more of that. You hurt me. Kiss it better."
They wrestled for a moment on the protesting bed. One detached part of him pictured the spectacle they were making. He felt like a butcher with a side of beef. But then, a side of beef doesn't try to get laid by the butcher.
She was on her hands and knees in front of him when Alec, catching her around her bulging waist with one arm, worked his cock into the easy target of her twat with his free hand. The struggling stopped instantly and Mrs. Grimes snuggled her buttocks into his lap.
It was like lowering his prick into a bucket of warm water. He moved his hips a couple of times, letting his member jerk back and forth along the slack length of her vaginal passage.
Mrs. Grimes peered at him from over her hunched shoulder. "Is it in yet?" she asked irritably.
Alec gave her a couple of reassuring prods with his weapon to demonstrate.
"It's not very big, is it?" Mrs. Grimes commented.
Alec bristled at the insult to his sexual endowments. "It's not me that's too small," he retorted. "It's you that's too god-damned big. I'll have to tie a plank across my ass. If I fall in this thing, I'm lost forever."
He tried a circular movement, attempting to rotate his tool so it would rub along the side of her cavernous cunt. It was no use. She was enormous. If he was going to shoot his load, he would have to put his hand inside and jerk himself off.
He reached underneath his swinging bullocks and fumbled among the hairy folds of her cunt lips. Spreading them apart with his thumb and baby finger, he diddled at her clitoris with his remaining three fingers.
The thing felt like a wet grape in the middle of a blanc mange. He swished around for a moment until he felt her tense up. Big as it was, there was still some feeling left in it.
Mrs. Grimes jerked convulsively and his prick fell out. Still twiddling her love button, he fumbled to replace his ineffectual prick. Finding the opening again, he thrust his wet, cunt-soaked member in impatiently.
A scream of delight burst from his landlady's throat and echoed around the room,
"OOOOOOh, that's good."
Surprisingly, her twat seemed to have tightened up in the few moments his prick had been out of it.
Alec commented on the miracle. "Say, you've got good muscle control. You've certainly tightened your snatch up. How did you do it?"
Mrs. Grimes's answer was short and to the point. "That's not my twat, you fool. That's my ass hole."
Alec's voice was full of contrition. "Gee, I'm sorry, hon. But I told you that I get carried away."
"Get carried away all you want," was the terse answer. "But leave your prick where it is. I like it. I like it. Keep slipping it to me and you'll never have to worry about paying rent again ever."
Alec nodded happily. If this was how she wanted it, it suited him fine. At least this way he could feel something wrapped around his dong, even if it was only her intestines.
He closed his eyes as he worked his prick in and out of her shit chute. The clammy walls of her bowels gripped him firmly. On the end of the withdrawal stroke, he could feel the relative tightness of her sphincter muscle grabbing at the helmeted head of his tool.
With a little bit of imagination, especially with his eyes shut, he could pretend he was screwing the tight virginal twat of some aspiring starlet on the front office casting couch of one of the major studios. A lifetime ambition of his. But still, he couldn't complain. Even casting skin flicks had its moments. His memory jogged him into further frenzied effort. The sooner this old bag got her rocks off, the sooner he could follow up his lead on that young cunt he'd met at the laundromat.
He renewed his manipulation of Mrs. Grimes' clitoris until she was shuddering underneath him like a nervous horse.
Reaching around her, he put his other hand on her pussy. Situated as he was behind her, he couldn't get his fingers into the opening of her cunt. He touched the base of his staff for a moment as it worked steadily away, in and out of her arsehole.
To his delight, he discovered that he could now get this thumb into her dripping slit and play with his balls at the same time. The sensation was electric. He alternated the jab of his thumb in time with the insertion of his rod. As they passed each other, he could feel the muscled hardness of his dong through the thin membrane of her anal partition.
The three-pronged assault was paying dividends. The steady, relentless massage of the clitoris, coupled with the jab of his thumb inside her vagina and the prod, prod, prod of his dick deep inside her bowels was sending Mrs. Grimes crazy. Her body swayed and shuddered under the combined onslaught. Her huge hanging tits swung like pendulums in time with his back-scuttling thrusts. The odor of sweaty sexual excitement filled the room as she grunted her pleasure.
"Uuuuugh... uuugh... uuugh... boy, that feels so good."
The words were erratic and staccato, spaced between the merciless thrusts of his shit-stirring tool.
Alec smiled complacently down at her heaving back. "It all goes to show," he told her. "It isn't the size of the prick... It's what you do with it that counts."
There was contrition in Mrs. Grimes' voice as she answered. "Uuuugh... uuugh... I guess I... uuugh... owe you... uuugh... an apology. Ouch, ooh. Do that again, Alec. I like it."
With a feat of acrobatic manipulation, Alec had managed to get his first two fingers as well as his thumb into her stretched and cavernous cunt and had worked them up her as far as the knuckles. It was the last gymnastic stunt that brought about such a satisfactory reaction.
He withdrew and regrouped his fingers. Bunching his fingers together around his thumb, he managed to make a pointed cone of his hand, and as he pressed hard he could feel the resultant mass forcing its way into the slack, oversized cunt hole of his landlady. He abandoned any attempt at finesse and brutally forced his fingers in farther until her twat was stretched and straining against the span of his palm.
Far from feeling any pain, Mrs. Grimes registered utter delight. "That's the stuff, lover. Now I can feel something happening."
Alec wriggled his fingers about inside her oversized sex pit and wondered what would happen to his wristwatch if he thrust his hand in any deeper.
A convulsive shudder rumbled through Mrs. Grimes and cut short his speculation.
"Shoot your load, Alec honey. I'm going to... to... cuuuum. Woweee..."
She squeezed her hamlike thighs together in the paroxysm of her orgasm and Alec felt his knuckles crunch under the pressure. Her arsehole contracted and expanded rhythmically around his member until he felt his pecker begin to tingle preparatory to his gushing climax.
His semen spurted from him, lubricating the tightness of Mrs. Grimes's clenched shit shute, making the last few ecstatic thrusts pure heaven. As his pumping prick filled her lower bowel with its copious ejaculation, Alec heard the woman crow with satisfaction.
Her own orgasm flooded from her and ran wetly down Alec's fingers and pooled in his cupped hand. Mrs. Grimes collapsed forward on the bed, her buttocks cushioning the spent and exhausted Alec.
His sated dick was beginning to feel uncomfortable, captive in Mrs. Grimes' tightly clenched anus. He tapped her timidly on her broad back.
"Oh, Pamela, darling. Open up a little and let me out, will you?"
A deep, somnolent snore answered him.
"Christ, she's asleep already," he whispered incredulously.
Now was his chance. If only he could get his tool out of her, he could make his escape unnoticed.
Hooking his ankles against the inside of her legs, he slowly spread them apart. The fleshy mound underneath him didn't alter the tempo of her breathing. Grasping his limp prick by the base, he carefully started to pull it out by its root. The soft rubbery prick stretched out to a stringy six inches and then imperceptibly began to slip free from the hungry orifice of Mrs. Grimes' anus.
Carefully, to avoid disturbing her, Alec inched off the bed. The springs creaked and he froze for a second. Mrs. Grimes snuffled a little in her sleep, but did not awaken.
His feet touched the floor and Alec stood up. Taking up his much removed trousers, he tiptoed across the bedroom floor and out into the living room. His hands shook with exhaustion as he removed his vividly hued shirt from the coffee table. The teeth were still there, grimacing. Alec made a face back at them. A proverb from a fortune cookie came back to him. "He who laughs last, laughs longest," he told them with an air of superiority -Grin, you bastards, but I've won this trick.
He finished dressing as he went through the front door. Pausing for a moment, he debated whether to risk the noise of the latch if he closed the door behind him. He cautiously left it open.
"Serve the old bitch right if someone came in and raped her... but Christ help the poor son of a bitch that tried it," he added under his breath.
Minutes later, he was in the security of his own locked apartment. Stripping down to the skin, he threw his dirty, sex-saturated clothes in the laundry basket. The realization that he had left his clean laundry behind in his landlady's apartment cut short his feeling of escape. He had neither the time nor the desire to risk going back to retrieve it.
Let them stay where they were. He had plenty of gear in the closet, and as sure as God made little apples the old girl would grab him again before he managed to raise the cash for the rent. He'd pick his stuff up then. If he had enough strength to carry it to safety.
He allowed himself to wallow luxuriously under the hot, cleansing jets of the shower for a good fifteen minutes. He rinsed off with a quick burst of stinging cold water until he felt almost human again.
He walked into the bedroom as he rubbed himself vigorously with a towel. Sliding open the closet door, he paused for a moment and considered what he should wear for the appointment with the braless broad. It had to be mod, so that she wouldn't be alienated by the difference in their ages. On the other hand, it couldn't be too way-out as he had to create the impression of being a good solid citizen. Someone she could trust not to take advantage of her when he proposed a career in skin flicks.
He thought of her trim figure, outlined against the laundromat window. The way the proud flesh of her pert knockers thrust against the flimsy covering of her dress. The young, solid feel of her buttocks as he brushed against them. Mentally he compared her with the worn-out old hag that he had left sleeping and felt his cock twitching into hard readiness.
He pulled a pair of tight-fitting, flair-legged pants on and thrust his cock out of the way before he pulled up the zipper. He felt happy and proud of himself. Boy, if he could get a hard-on by just thinking about the broad, what was going to happen when he had her quite literally in the flesh? There was a jaunty spring to his step as he made his way, via the service door, to the parking lot and his car. Tonight, he felt, was going to be one of those worthwhile times.