The story so far: a 42-year-old man calling himself Richie Benaud (although he isn’t) has found himself in the midst of a very sexy group of older women on a Saga holiday in the Mediterranean. With the women calling the shots – and also using celebrity names - he has had encounters with two of them, separately, and has been told that there is more to come
Gigi was out of commission with a broken arm and a bruised hip. I sat by the hotel pool and talked to her all afternoon while the rest of the gang were out on a coach trip into the hills. Before they left, Gloria had given me a proprietorial kiss when she thought the rest weren’t looking. I had seen her getting an update from Jackie, who had provided me with a very unusual wake-up call that morning.
Gigi hadn’t been able to apply her make-up, because she was right-handed and had broken her right forearm. This had exposed some tiny broken veins but also a natural ruddiness that only added to her rustic, lusty appearance.
She told me about her life out in the Scottish hills, initially as a farmer’s wife and then running apartments. When the tourist trade had become a better alternative to farming, they had converted the buildings. Her husband had been dead ten years. I gathered she had had occasional fun with male guests, as well as an on-off relationship with on old flame.
Eventually she frowned and went quiet.
“What is it?” I asked. “You need some more painkillers?”
“Well, there is that,” she said, “but something else. Would you mind coming upstairs with me?”
We took the lift up to her room, the same room she had lent to Gloria and in which Gloria had installed Jackie that morning. The chambermaid was just leaving as we arrived. The room looked pristine, with no trace of what had gone on there. It smelled of bleach and air freshener.
Gigi went to a chest of drawers and took out a paper bag. From it she tipped a blister pack of Ibuprofen.
“Could you break a couple out and pour me a glass of water?” she said, irritated by her incapacity.
When she had swallowed them, I said “Okay?”
“One other thing,” she said.
“Yes?” I said, waiting.
“It’s bloody stupid,” she said. “Humiliating.”
“What?” I said softly, putting a hand on her good shoulder.
“The bathroom,” she said. “I’ve only got one hand and my hip hurts. I’m afraid I’ll fall off the toilet.”
“You need to do…”
“A wee,” she said. “Would you mind terribly giving me a hand?”
“Of course,” I said. By now we were in the bathroom.
“You’ll have to pull down my shorts and pants,” she said. I knelt in front of her and did that. Her pubic area was shaven but getting stubbly. I kissed her mound in what I hoped was a friendly way.
“Hold my hand while I sit down,” she said. I watched her wince as pressure went on her hip. She adjusted herself, wriggling, before saying, “Okay, give me a minute.”
“I’ll stay,” I said.
“Richie, you don’t have to.”
“What if you overbalance?” I said. “And anyway, I want to.”
I looked into her eyes and she said, “Well, if it’s going to be like that, you’d better kiss me.”
I leaned towards her and our tongues flickered together.
“For heaven’s sake, what a state,” she said. I could see her trying to pee.
“Let it go,” I said. “Don’t mind me.” A trickle came, then a spurt into the water. Finally her body cooperated and she hosed out a good stream. I put my hand into it, and she sighed.
“Kiss,” she said. I kissed her and then my wet hand followed her stream up to its source, making it squirt out sideways. She wriggled again.
“We’re not supposed to be enjoying it,” she said with a sheepish smile. Her stream faded and stopped. I took three sheets of paper and wiped her gently, drying my hand at the same time. She stood up and I performed the opposite of the usual routine, pulling her pants and shorts up. She patted her clothes with her left hand, and flushed the toilet.
We both washed our hands – she only one. I kissed her again and we looked at each other in the mirror and laughed.
“While we’re here,” I said, “I suppose we should make the most of it.” She nodded. “What do you think you could manage?” I asked.
“Well,” she began, thinking about it. “I could lie down but I couldn’t have you on top of me. I could touch you with my left hand but it wouldn’t be very good.”
“Let’s give it a go,” I said. I reversed the shorts and pants again and took them off. She lay on her good side.
“Give me a show,” she said, nodding at my trousers. I peeled off my shirt and let her look at my lightly-haired chest. Then I unzipped my trousers and she caught her breath as she saw my nakedness.
I lay down and put my hand between her legs. I eased my finger between her big lips and into her sweet command centre. I rubbed her clitoris with my thumb, pumping my finger in and out, then adding two more.
“Aaah, nice,” she said. “That’s good, very good. I’m just a bit afraid of cumming. If I start writhing around it’s going to kill me.”
“Would you like to touch my penis?” I said.
“Put it in my hand,” she said, her left palm open. I lay next to her and placed my erection into her grasp. She explored it with the hand that normally didn’t get so involved in sex. She gripped me halfway down my shaft and started to jerk it.
“Is that okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, fine,” I said. “A bit harder, quicker.” She did her best, but it wasn’t really effective and she knew it.
“My mouth is still working,” she said with a glint in her eye. “Come up here and let me lick your balls.”
I straddled her head and lowered myself onto her until my sack landed gently.
“I love the smell of a nice scrotum,” she said. She kissed and licked and enjoyed moving my balls around with her tongue.
“You don’t get anything out of having them sucked, do you?” she said.
“No,” I said. “It’s nice when somebody does that, but it doesn’t feel physically exciting. They’re not like a dick, and if you’re not careful you can hurt them.”
Gigi kissed my balls as if she would never harm me like that.
“Do you want to fuck my face?” she asked.
“That’s another porn myth,” I said. “Your mouth isn’t like your vagina. You
have to do the movement.
“Let me do it, then,” she said. I rearranged myself and presented my willing cock to her lips. She kept her left hand down by her side for balance, to keep the pain away. She sucked me gently, carefully and very successfully. She licked very slowly and comprehensively so I could feel the slight roughness of her tongue.
“I need you to turn over,” she said, “so I can lick the big bit.”
I clambered around until I was in position and I manhandled my cock into her mouth, pushing it against the natural shape of the erection so that her tongue could lick the larger, smooth part of my knob.
Gigi swallowed my cock and, bobbing her head, licked and sucked me for all she was worth. I needed to do something myself. It's strange how doing something for a woman can increase a man’s own pleasure.
My face was now down by her crotch again, so I kissed and licked her there. I settled on her inner thighs, licking the extra soft flesh there and loving the smell of her frustrated, juicy pussy.
Finally the urge took her over and she brought her left hand up to join the fray. It wandered around my crotch and buttocks and eventually she just lightly held my balls. And it did the trick. I squirted my semen onto her tongue and down her throat and she groaned her appreciation.
“Oh, Gigi,” I said gratefully. “You are some girl.”
“Please call me Millicent just once,” she said. “When I remember this I want it to be my real self.” I knew exactly what she meant. I licked her vagina tenderly and said, “Millicent, you’re fucking wonderful.”
“And tell me your name,” she insisted.
“Rick,” I said.
“Oh, Rick,” she breathed. “I love having your cock in my mouth. I love the fact that I’m going to be digesting your semen. I would love to have your cock in my cunt. We’ve got five days left.”
“If we can’t this time,” I said, “I’ll come to your apartments and fuck you in a cold climate.”
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<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/mature/vintage-women-iii-lust-will-find-a-way.aspx">Vintage Women III: Lust Will Find a Way</a>