Chapter 11
"It's hard to believe that some handsome local man hasn't moved in on you, Helen," Norm Steele said, his eyes warm as he glanced at her snug blouse, her dark wavy hair.
"Oh, you flatterer!" Helen smiled.
She had decided earlier in the day to take a stroll along the beach near town, and she had stopped in at a small cafe near the boardwalk. A tall distinguished looking gentleman with graying hair had smiled at her, and she had smiled back. Now they were in a booth of the cafe, having coffee.
The only drawback about Norm that she could see was his age. He was at least past fifty, and she'd had so much delicious fun with Carl Holt, he had almost blinded her to the males past forty. Carl was only thirty-three, she was thirty-two.
But Marci was right about Carl. As good as he was, as dashing and as expert in bed as could be. Helen and Marci were simply toys for his amusement.
"Are you living here at Seaside?" Helen asked.
"I'm looking around," he said. His eyes on her upper body were certainly saying what she liked--but fifty? Could a man that old perform well in the bedroom? She had to be practical, even though she was slightly desperate!
"Would you like to drop by my home, Norm?" she asked, shivering. The only way to find out about a man was to fuck him! She hadn't had any since the afternoon out in the cabin at the rear of Holt lot; and the follow-up lesbian fuck with Marci.
Helen and Marci still felt rather uncomfortable with the idea of fucking each other. Oh, they'd be at it again, all right! A few more days of going without sex, and wham!
"I certainly would, Helen," Norm grinned.
Shivering at the prospect of maybe getting humped, Helen giggled and let her breasts push forward. His gray eyes gleamed. Outside, she noticed he was driving a big Caddy, which impressed her. She had asked him to follow her in her modest but late model runabout.
It was early afternoon. Marci would be at the bank, of course. Helen led Norm into her living room, her heart thumping. He had a certain subdued charisma, and the lump in his pants looked adequate. She already knew he was a retired stock broker, a widower, and evidently well heeled. He had sold his home at San Francisco, and was 'looking around.'
She brought in a glass of wine apiece, and they sat on her best sofa, she at his left.
"So you live here with your distantly related cousin," he said, peering at the V of her blouse. She was rather self-conscious today because she hadn't worn a bra. Marci had told her that men loved to see a pair of tits riding free inside a low-cut dress top- or jersey.
At least she had stopped sneaking around at night, trying to peer into windows of the Holt house. A good, solid fucking did wonders for a hard-up woman! She hadn't masturbated lately either, and she hadn't heard Marci's bedsprings creaking.
"Marci's a nice, young pretty girl," Helen said, leaning closer to Norm. His left arm went around her shoulders. Mmmmmm! Did his age really matter that much?
His arm tightened, and she turned her head, tipping her mouth up for the expected kiss. She got it! His mouth took possession of her lips, she opened eagerly for his tongue, and she got that, too! He had a clever way of burrowing into her receptive lips, spreading them. His right hand lifted to her bulging blouse . . .
Norm Steele knew when he had a cock-hungry widow in his grip. He'd been fairly truthful with her, although he hadn't related the full measure of his wealth. Some women immediately turned greedy. He had invested mainly in California real estate, had made his pile and gotten out before the last big drop.
His wife had died before her time, he'd been freelancing for cunt ever since. Not difficult to find. He looked young for his age, and sometimes he was able to attract some choice young pussy. The low-age girls were exciting to be with, but some were very poor humping. So many of them thought that by looking sexy, like a TV or Hollywood stereotype, they were good in bed.
Wrong. Just having a cunt didn't necessarily mean it was a stimulating cunt. Some older women knew this, but they were hard to find, too. Some were teachable, some weren't. He had made quite a study of sex. He had been complimented on his expertise between the sheets; he had many good years ahead of him. Right now things with Helen looked fairly promising.
The spread of her full lips, her shiver, indicated she liked it. She was a bit old to be letting her tits go free inside her blouse, but they had gotten his attention. He molded her boobs without inserting his hand inside, getting the 'feel' of her sensuality. Interesting.
She whined with pleasure as he began opening her blouse. He flicked his tongue in her mouth, and she stabbed back with bold enthusiasm. She was hungry, all right. He lifted her breasts out of her opened blouse and his prick began enlarging. Fine, firm breasts, coned at the tips, with good long nipples. As he teased them she moaned and arched her charms at his hand.
For him a good pair of tits was almost as essential to a fuck as a cunt. He'd been a boob buff since childhood, when he'd started peering into girlie magazines and beating his meat. The monster tits didn't thrill him. The tits that blended into the rest of the female, and were responsive to fondling and kissing, were his favorites.
He cuddled Helen's knockers, squeezing and playing, until she was frantic. Her mouth swerved from his, she breathed on his throat.
"I love it, Norm! Come on, let's go in my bedroom!"
His cock tensed, he nodded. She moved upright and he followed her to a stairway. The roll of her ass inside her tailored pants was interesting. Good, full legs, slightly plump. The skinny ones didn't bring his cock up.
They entered her boudoir, well furnished and decorated. A woman's sensuality often showed in her bedroom decor, and Helen's choice of rich colors and lavish furnishings told him a lot about her. Some women thought sex, some didn't.
She began undressing. People their ages didn't have to bother with lot of silly prelims; the best way to fuck was naked. He took off his shirt and dropped his pants, removed his slip-on sandals. She stared at his still-hidden prick in his boxer briefs, and her eyes widened. He had a lot of cock, ten inches at full hardness.
"Oh, my God!" she breathed.
He smiled and dropped his shorts. His cock angled up and out, tensed and leaky at the knob, circled by his still virgin foreskin. The past week his luck hadn't been so good; he needed a fuck . . .
Helen shook with lust. Oh, he was really hung! She was forgetting his age and the touches of gray hair. She needed cock, and he had all any horny woman could wish for! She slid her panties to the floor and drew the covers back. She had bought new colored sheets and she was proud of them. They were wild pink.
She rushed to the bed, spreading out, her cunt already showing signs of wetness and swelling. His expert breast play down in the living room had stirred the tiger inside her! He was just wonderful with her tits! They were firm and peaked, her nipples achy. Carl was good, of course, but Norm seemed to have a special interest in her boobs.
"Oh, come on and get that big thing in my cunt!" Helen gasped, angling her thighs far apart.
"Well, an outspoken woman," he grinned, moving to the bed. His eyes roved along her body, his huge prick tensed. He sank down at her right, his hand claiming her cunt. Stings of sweet arousal spread out from her crotch.
She reached for his cock, closed her fingers around it, and shivered with anticipation. He leaned above her and began kissing her tender, tumid nipples. The way he drew her sensitive tit crests into his mouth, his gentle sucks, drew a moan from her lips.
"Ohhhh, Norm! I hope you stay in Seaside a while!"
"You can bet on that, Helen!" he chuckled. His best finger oozed into her tingling cunt. He teased her urethra. Sugary nuances whirled through her loins. He explored her cunt in a way no one else ever had! He was awakening nerves there! He was showing her what an experienced man could do for her, and she loved every little caress!
Slowly he began to finger-fuck her cunt. Her left hand shot over to his prick, she closed her pinkies around it and shook with lust. She craved the cock she held in her hand, but she needed an orgasm--as soon as possible! His lips on her nipples were inching thrills from her tits. His thumb pressed her clit every time he stroked his finger in her achy, leaky cunt.
He watched her breasts peak even higher. His lips were magical things, sucking sting after sting from her expanded tits. More and more of her breast went into his mouth as he laved her flesh, coiling his tongue around her awakened tit crests.
"Ohhhh, do it!" she breathed. "Norm, make me come!"
His hand stroked faster, faster! She felt the rich seething delight just before her climax. She was coming, but ohhh, so slowly and delectably! He brought her closer and closer to her peak of sensation . . . and suddenly she tumbled into her goodies!
The luscious throbs of her peak sucked a fierce cry from her lips. Her cunt gun was firing, firing, shooting! Her tits heaved, her hips lurched, her thighs jerked! The pounds were utterly delicious! She was having all this and his cock wasn't even in her cunt--yet!
With a nipple far in his mouth, he kept his finger in her cunt until the joyful after-pangs fed her cravings. She softened, panting, still holding his prick, shaking with erotic delight.
"Ohhh, Norm!" she breathed. "You sure got me big and hard!"
"You come real good, Helen," he murmured, around her nipple. "I like it."
"Honey, when do I get this?" she giggled, squeezing his cock.
"Soon," he said, kissing between her swollen breasts . . .
Norm was highly pleased with this new piece of pussy. She went off with gusto, and she had great potential. A fairly snug cunt that clenched when she had her orgasm, and a fine set of tits. One thing he had learned in his various bedroom researches was that the older. a man got the more he had to conserve his shots of semen. He could still shoot two loads in one session, but it drained him.
The best method was to use his prick sparingly, give the woman plenty of finger and mouth action, and maybe not even squirt at all. His pleasure was in making the partner come time after time. Sensual women could do this, and how they ate it up!
He cuddled her oozy cunt, nuzzled her tits, and let her rest a while. He was finding himself curious about the girl who lived here with Helen. If the snapshot in the living room was of her, she was quite a bundle. Dark, slightly plump, long-legged with a terrific set of knockers. Looked intelligent, not that it mattered a great deal.
Some of those would-be brainy types talked too much, and most were poor fucking.
"Ready for some more action, Helen?" he said, squeezing her cunt. She tightened her fingers on his prick and shivered.
"Yes! And please get this big long thing in my cunt!"
He laughed softly. "We do have all afternoon, don't we?"
"Yes, but Mari might come home early--"
"Would she care if you were getting yourself a little?" he said, banteringly. "She sounds very grown up for her age."
Helen tittered. "I suppose it would be all right--"
"Well, stop- worrying and enjoy," he said.
"Oh, whatever you say, you big stud!" she giggled.
He let go of her puffy cunt and crawled over between her legs. She gasped and opened her thighs wide. He smiled down at her, tensing his prick. He moved to his knees between her shanks and played with her spread-apart thigh flesh.
"Now, I want you to do something that'll make your fun more fun, Helen."
"Ohhh, anything, Norm!" she breathed, tipping her cunt up.
"Play with your pussy, Helen. When you're about ready to come I'll run my prick in. Okay?"
She gasped. She looked almost shocked. "But, Norm--"
"Come on, I know women do this. I like to watch it, I can learn how to please you more."
Her eyes widened, she stared at him, at his prick, and suddenly started giggling. "You devil! If you think I'll have more fun . . . all right!"
"I guarantee it," he chuckled . . .
Helen had never heard of such a thing! Of course he knew women masturbated, just as she knew men did, but the idea of playing with herself in front of a lover . . . well, he wanted her to, it would mean she'd have his prick, so why not?
Hesitantly Helen slid her right hand down to her cunt. Her left hand went to her breasts. She started her playings . . .