I Met An Old Man In The Chicken Bar

Standing in the queue in the fried chicken outlet on Haverstock Hill, my mind blank, I heard a voice behind me.

"I hope we don't have to wait too long. I need to get home before it gets dark. I hope they haven't forgotten mine."

Turning I saw it was a lovely elderly gentleman. He was waiting patiently behind me, his receipt in his hand. I asked.

"What's your order number?"

He showed me his ticket, it was 0657, mine was 0655. He had ordered the same dish that I had, a mighty bucket for one.

"No, they've got the orders up there on the board, yours is just below mine there on the orders under preparation side."

A number of young men were turning to look at us, I was grateful that he was talking to me, as I didn't want to be bothered by chancers making passes. I get so tired of the banality of the 'chat up' lines, and thankfully he took my attention and dissuaded anyone from trying to get close to me.

I hadn't intended to meet anyone, I was just getting a quick takeaway for my supper. I was not in the mood to cook, and I was alone that evening, so it seemed the ideal solution. I have to admit though, that I have developed quite a weakness for older men, and he hit all the right notes for me.

We talked lightly about the food, and the service, and in a short time, our orders went up the board, one of the staff called our numbers out, and we went up to the counter and took our bags. We walked to the door together and hesitated as it had begun to rain quite heavily. He looked a bit worried, saying to me.

"I'm going to get wet, I'll just wait inside the door until it eases off a bit."

Asking him where he lived, he told me his address, just of Belsize Lane, it was a little out of my route home, but not excessively so. It would have taken him a good 5 to 10 minutes to walk, and he would have got soaked. My journey from there to my home in Hampstead was only 15 minutes or so, and it was a small sacrifice for me.

He got onto the passenger seat, and we made off, driving to his home. He had a nice little mews cottage type home in the set away from the general area. Parking outside he turned to me before he got out.

"Thank you, Lucy, I hope I haven't kept you from your family?"

"No, I'm on my own this evening, so it's not a rush for me."

"Well, why don't you come in? We can eat together, and I enjoy talking with you."

I don't know what it was that I found so attractive about him. He had silvery white hair, and blue eyes, his physique looked delicate, but the expression on his face was mesmerising to me. Finding him almost irresistible. I agreed. We went into his kitchen and ate our chicken meals. Enjoying the flavour and juiciness of the food. When we finished, he collected the bones and waste, putting it into his food caddy outside the back door, with the cardboard buckets into the recycling bag.

We talked a bit more, he told me about his life and his job. He had been a chartered accountant and had been successful making a good living. His wife, Isabel had worked as a clerk in a solicitor's office, she had earned a good salary, so they were comfortably well off.

They'd had one daughter, Alice, who had met a nice young man when she went up to university, and when they graduated, they had married. Moving up to Arbroath in Scotland, visiting them at least once a year. His wife had sadly passed away several years previously after a long illness. Alice had wanted him to move up to live with them, but he felt close to his wife in their home and had declined the offer.

He was a bit of a charming old devil and had a mischievous glint in his eyes. They twinkled when he smiled, and I found him to be so interesting, that I was excited, just listening to him talk.

I noticed he was surreptitiously peeping up my skirt, it wasn't a surprise, most men do that when they get the chance. They seem fascinated by our underwear, a little bit of cloth, or lace, and they can't take their eyes of it. In earlier days, I'd had a lot of fun teasing men unable to resist 'accidentally' showing my knickers at various opportunities. It became quite an exciting pastime, and I began to enjoy it, I still do. I suppose it's a measure of the cruel streak that I have within me, in that it gives me a thrill. Particularly when I see the look in the eyes of these men, when they catch a look at what's on offer, but realise it's just that little bit out of their reach.

Over the next few weeks, I took to calling on Gary, usually once a week, but occasionally more often than that and we began to talk about more and more personal things. He had been telling me about his late wife, and mentioned that since she passed away, he'd had little to no connection to other women. Some had drifted into his acquaintance, but he knew that most of them were after his wealth and his property. He never directly asked me whether I had a boyfriend, but I took an opportunity during one conversation to let him know that I didn't. Speaking quietly, I said.

"I've been out with a few men, and one or two girls, but nothing serious. I get bored with them quite quickly."

He didn't reply straight away, then after a few seconds spoke.

"That's disappointing to hear, I though you'd be engaged at least?"

"No, I keep things casual, I like to enjoy myself, but I don't want to be tied down."

He nodded, and we continued to talk, mostly about his wife and their marriage. Isabel had been the light of his life, and they had enjoyed a long and loving relationship. Childhood sweethearts, marrying at 16, they had been together for 50 years. She had taken ill in the last few years, and she had passed away two years after their golden wedding anniversary. I put his age at around 68, possibly 69, but he never told me how old he was, nor did he ask how old I was.

Slowly our conversation turned to sex, it took quite a while for me to gain his confidence, but eventually he started to open up about the physical side of his marriage.

"We had a very active and adventurous sex life, although there were things she didn't want to do, we discussed them, and agreed we wouldn't do anything the other felt uncomfortable with. I listened intently before asking.

"What things did you want to do, but didn't because she didn't like the idea?"

"It's embarrassing talking about this Lucy."

"Don't be, Gary, I'm broad minded and there isn't much I haven't heard."

"Really? You're so young."

"I won't go into details, it would astonish you if you knew, but I have had a lot of experience. So tell me I won't be shocked."

He took a deep breath, nodded and then let his desires flood out."

"I've always wanted to do oral, all of it, I'd really have liked to rim a girl. You know what rimming means?"

I smiled as I replied.

"Yes, I've had other girls do it to me, the first time it was quite a surprise, but I ended up enjoying it, so it's something I don't mind. I've never had a man do it to me though."

"Would you let a man do it to you? Even though you're a lesbian?"

"Actually, I'm bisexual Gary. Mostly I like men, but now and again when the mood takes me, I go with other girls. In answer to your question. Yes, I would, if the man appealed to me and it was what I felt like doing at the time."

"Do you find it difficult to maintain the balance, does it present you with any problems?"

"Not really, it has its advantages, if I meet a man, usually a young overconfident one, who is overly persistent it's useful to tell him 'You know I'm a lesbian don't you.' That almost always puts them off."

"If it doesn't?"

"Then a hard slap, or a well-placed knee does the job."

Smiling, he nodded his approval and understanding. Somehow, I felt comforted by that, realising how important it was to me, that he didn't find my life choices unacceptable. I began to more tactile with him, stroking his cheeks, now and again, I would sit on his lap, letting him rest his hands on my upper thighs, making sure I pulled my skirt up slightly so he would get a bit of enjoyment from seeing my knickers. He would lean against me, as we cuddled, and his hands would wrap around my waist, running his fingers around my waistband.

I suppose our relationship changed to become much more intimate and overtly sexual over the next few weeks. It culminated on a Thursday afternoon and one I remember well. That day when I dressed, I chose to wear a light grey, pleated, cotton skirt. It was a bit loose, featherlight and quite short. As I crouched down to pick my bag up, and the air got underneath it, causing it into float up at the back, giving him a brief but clear view of my bottom, covered with my black lace knickers under the barely black tights I was wearing. Hearing him exclaim in surprise, I turned on my heels, nearly overbalancing backwards and exposing my inner thighs, and the inviting dark space between my legs.

"Are you alright Gary?"

"Yes, yes, I just need to slow my breathing and heartbeat down a little. My goodness young lady, that was probably the most exciting thing I've seen in years."

I laughed softly, and fixed my eyes on his, before replying

"You never know your luck Gary, you might get to see more, a lot more."

Giggling to myself, I stood and slowly took my hems, lifting my skirts up to my waist, shifting my weight from foot to foot and rocking my hips from side to side. He was transfixed by the sight of my mound under the dark nylon, as I danced for him just as I often did for my dad, I knew he enjoyed the vision of me, confirming his pleasure with a soft sibilant sigh.

"Heavens Lucy, you remind me so much of Isabel, she always wore nice undies, and even when they were plain and simple, she had a way of appearing fascinatingly seductive. She had that natural and enchanting allure. You have that quality as well Lucy."

"Thank you, I'd love to have met her and perhaps taken a few hints on her style."

"I still have most of her clothes, I couldn't bear to part with them. She was always very sophisticated with her choice of underwear, and very similar to your tastes."

"I only wear my expensive stuff for special occasions, most of the time I wear plain cotton, more for comfort than for style. Particularly if I'm sitting around in lecture halls, classrooms or offices. It's also safer to travel with, men still look, but there's nothing provocative for them to see. Although I have to say that doesn't stop some of them from staring."

"What you're wearing now is quite enticing Lucy."

"I'm wearing them for you Gary, just for you."

"Oh my, I'd love to see your really exotic stuff."

"I'll try to remember that, maybe I'll give you a treat once in a while."

"Would you like to see Isabel's, it's all in her lingerie drawers upstairs?"

"Alright then Gary, it may give me some ideas to compare with my own."

"Come on then."

He stood, and led me to the stairs, he went first, climbing them slowly as I followed. Reaching his main bedroom, I took stock of the way it had been furnished. It was very chintzy, reflecting Isabel's taste, and showed her ability to design and dress a room properly. The bed was large, comfortable and made of oak, and looked inviting as the sun shone through his bay window. I saw that the floor had been covered in vinyl cushion flooring, made to look like parquet, he explained that in the final years of Isabel's life, it had been necessary to ease his task after 'accidents.'

The bed was solid, and quite high, with a good space underneath it. They had a lovely, padded footstool, which his wife, being small in stature had used to climb up under the duvet. The room had built in wardrobe and drawer sets, in a tasteful magnolia colour, with gold embellishments. He led me to a double bank of drawers to one side of her dressing table and pulled the top two open.

Inside the first drawer was probably the most gorgeous collection of silk and satin lingerie I've ever seen. Almost all pastel colours, but with a fair smattering of both black, and a greater number of white sets. In the second drawer was all of her everyday cotton underwear, again with a good selection of colours, both plain and patterned, though from what I saw, she seemed to have preferred white. He lifted the neatly folded clothing up, and underneath were easily 10 to 15 packs of incredibly expensive underwear collections. All high end brand names, Journelle, Miss Mary, L Perla, Anya Lust, even Dior, the list seemed endless, so much so that I can't remember them all. From the tantalising lace, and cut of them, she must have been a hot little minx in her younger days. All of them were still in their unopened packaging.

He watched my expression, one of startled astonishment as I took the packs one by one and admired the quality and sheer expensiveness of the clothing. Waiting patiently for me to look up, he asked.

"What do you think Lucy, do you like her style?"

"My god, yes, I don't have anything quite like this at home."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said.

"Yes, she always felt that they were too nice to wear."

"Such a shame Gary, they are all absolutely beautiful."

He nodded and replied.

"It would have been nice to see her in them."

He paused for a second or so.

"Interestingly, she took the same size as you, I saw the label in your panties when you sat on my knee."

I smiled but didn't say anything, I'd noticed how much time he spent comparing the similarities between Isabel and I. Surprisingly I felt strangely comforted by that

Over the next few weeks, I couldn't get him out of my mind, and how much we took pleasure from each other's company. I wanted to please him, and my actions towards him became more sexually charged. I knew I was in danger of breaking my own self-imposed rules where it comes to relationships, but I really didn't care. I wanted to give this elderly man, a little erotic pleasure to lift his spirits in his lonely existence. Don't ask me why, I know some think it's wrong to be with a man so much older that I am, but it's something undefinable. It eclipses all age gaps, and overpowers me, once I've made a choice, I can't stop myself.

Initially I was careful in how we progressed, as once before I had misjudged the intentions of another older man. Resulting in my being tricked into a lengthy and overwhelming sex session where he had taken advantage of my naivety and I became, a toy, almost a rag dolly in his hands. The only saving grace for my dignity had been that he was very good at it, and although he'd shown strong endurance, I'd actually survived his strength and stamina, although almost totally exhausting myself.

However, Gary was different, I had learned what to watch for with someone being disingenuous, and it didn't take me long to realise that he wasn't one of the men who pretended to be something he was not. He was a lonely oldish man, who missed his wife terribly. My attraction to him grew stronger each time I went to see him, until I could hardly wait for the time to pass between visits. So, I was filled with a firm resolve to give a lot of my time to him, in any way that I could.

Talking with my dad (he's not my biological dad, I'm adopted), about how much I enjoyed Gary's company, he listened attentively before warning me.

"Be careful Lucy, he sounds like another one of your 'broken wings,' don't get yourself too attached. I hate it when you get your feelings hurt."

The following Thursday, I finished my classes early and arrived home at around 1:00pm. Washing myself to freshen up, I changed into a red wool miniskirt, with plain pink cotton panties, matching bra, a short lacy slip, with a crisp white blouse, short sleeved with a high-necked gathered collar. Going out to my car, a started up, and drove out, the electric gate closing behind me.

On my arrival, Gary welcomed me in, and we went into the comfortable lounge, sitting together on his leather couch. He seemed a little down in spirit, but after a few minutes warmed to the conversation. I asked him.

"Whatever is the matter Gary, you don't seem yourself today?"

"It's nothing much, I just missed seeing you, and realised that even when you came, you'd have to leave, and I'd be on my own again until next week."

"You shouldn't be like that, if you like I'll come her several times a week, it might make you feel a bit happier."

"That would be nice Lucy. You know, until you started to visit me, I hadn't really noticed how lonely I'd become."

"Oh Gary, I don't want you to be sad like this, I always enjoy the brightness of your company, it's so unlike you to be down on the dumps."

Impulsively I stood up, and moved in front of him, standing over his outstretched legs, and leaned towards him. Noting how his eyes focussed on my knees, and under the front of my skirt. He looked up into my face, and began to smile a little more, he seemed a bit better, but I knew I'd have to do a bit more to cheer him up.

Feeling great sympathy for him, I lifted my skirt at the back, and tucked the front hem onto my waistband, clearly revealing myself, and sat astride his lap, settling into him, inching forward over his upper legs until my mound pressed against his pelvic bone. Surprised that it turned me on so much, I saw that his nostrils widened, and he spoke.

"Oh, my goodness, that smells nice. I haven't enjoyed that aroma since I was a young man and lying with a girl for the first time."

Smiling, I put my hands on his upper shoulder either side of his neck, kneading his muscles, causing him to close his eyes and sigh from the pleasure it gave him. I pressed myself into his crotch feeling the bulge of his penis as it pressed into the fatty pad covering my mound. It felt substantial but a bit soft.

"You can touch me you like, Gary."

He smiled weakly, and his hands on top of my legs, slowly stroked upwards until he was touching the bare skin at the top of my stockings. Moving his fingers down to the soft sensitive skin inside my inner thighs, close to the legs of my knickers. I was expecting him to either, pull the side of them open to take a peep, or to try to get inside them and finger me. All he wanted to do though, was stroke his fingertips over the soft, tightly stretched cotton gusset. Feeling my labia through the material with the back of his fingers. He did briefly pull the waistband forwards and down, but not so far that he saw anything much.

Thrilling to the tenderness of his touch, I leaned back, and he slipped his hand up under my blouse, holding the firmly muscled skin of my lower ribs and waist. Raising myself up onto my knees, I pressed myself into his face, allowing him to breathe through the cotton front panel of my panties, inhaling the very essence of me, my femininity, soft, warm and buttery.

His reaction told me all I needed to know. The time was almost right, and I was confident that if I was a bit assertive, I could seduce him on my next visit. I really wanted to, it may surprise people, but I had become very attached to him, and although he was quite old, I sensed he could manage me, even if only gently. Deciding to make that move on Friday and confident that I wasn't going to get caught out again, despite the similarities with the previous older man. I made the decision to give myself to him, hopefully to help him relive his youth, but determined to allow him at the very least, an afternoon of pleasure.

Friday came, I went to my classes as usual, taking the underground both there and back, finishing my studies just before lunch. I picked up my assignments from the lecturer and set off for home.

That afternoon I arrived home from university, having eaten only low residue food since I'd last been to Gary's I used the toilet and made myself comfortable. Then sitting astride the bidet, turning on the powerful jets to freshen and irrigate myself, making sure that my bottom was sweet and clean. Stepping into the shower, I soaped myself down, rinsing the lather off in the fresh flowing water. Applying a little Clive Christian original collection perfume to my pulse points, and on the upper part of my mound. I carefully chose my outfit.