Old People Have Sex

ONE

Trainee social worker Milly Jones is sure her parent's did not engage in 'sexual intercourse'. Trainees are being been urged to use that expression.

'Fornicate' – thay's another new term she's learned in training. The lecturer said it was a word 'more socially acceptable than the word fucking' when referring to sexual intercourse outside of marriage.

Well, although not knowing what goes on in her parents' bedroom, Milly believes it isn't much. Furthermore, she's never seen her parents 'at it' on the sofa, out in the hammock, in the back seat of their car or in the shower where normal people do it. Milly believes her parents are normal though perhaps strange as they tend to think and act differently to normal people of Milly's generation.

Two weeks after that brief burst of profound thinking about sex and her parents, Milly had an amazing experience when out on her second field trip. She accompanied social worker Alice Mundt on her assignments. Around 10:00 they approached the home of Miss Roberts and her brother Mr Roberts. The appointment had been confirmed, the door was open but no one answered, so Alice walked in calling out, "Hullo."

In the sitting room they two females saw something that almost put Milly off sex for life. Mr Roberts was sitting on a chair and Miss Roberts was sitting on his lap, her back against his chest. They were both nude.

Alice turned quickly, trying to shield Milly from the gross sight.

"Leave the room if you don't feel you can cope with this situation, Milly. I shall understand."

"No, it's fine, I wish to observe," Milly gulped, only then realizing that while she'd meant observing Alice in her counseling role, in this context observing had another meaning.

Fortunately Alice had turned back to the Roberts so missed seeing sunset come to Milly's face.

"Tsssk, tsssk, you two. There is an impressionable young woman in this room with us."

"I'd like an impression but this floppy thing of his is not going to give me that, is it?"

Alice turned to check on Milly, just catching the remnants of the fading blush. She smiled encouragingly at the eighteen-year-old trainee.

"Speaking professionally, Enid, you are unlikely to encourage Harold into achieving one of his rare erections by speaking in a demeaning manner like that. All women know that a man's penis is linked directly to his ego."

"I didn't know that," Milly blurted.

Alice turned and smiled at her sympathetically.

"Come on, Enid, get you fingers under those rusty old balls of his and gently roll them with your fingers. That's it!

"Now shift your right hip down his leg a bit – not too far, yes that's right. Now your spine is better aligned to allow you to spread more across the right side of his chest and turn so he may kiss you or perhaps tongue you. Good, excellent."

Alice went in closer.

"Harold!" she shouted (he is deaf). "Play with Enid's breasts or I'll call them her tits if that gets you going."

The grope commenced.

"Good boy! Now how about a kiss!

"No, not me – kiss Enid."

There was a brief silence.

"Oh look, everyone," said Enid, looking down beyond the deflated objects that once must have been breasts.

Everyone looked and Harold grunted, "It's on the rise!"

"We'll leave you two to finish off, but we'll call back this afternoon," said Alice kindly.

"Right, but bring the young lass as perhaps she can give us some good tips," chuckled Enid, bringing a return of pink and orange coloring to Milly's face.

TWO

Out in the car, Alice made some notes.

"Will you report they were engaged in sexual activity?"

"No, Milly. It's none of our business. We visit to check on their welfare."

"But they're brother and sister!"

"That's very astute of you, Milly, though that relationship was established in the notes I handed you at your briefing."

"Yes, but…"

"No buts, Milly. It's their business."

They stopped to get coffee and cakes which they consumed in the car park overlooking the river.

"Do you think my parents will still engage in sexual intercourse – it's almost twenty years since my brother and I were born?"

"In all probability, Milly, unless there are physical or emotional problems that inhibit them."

"But I never see them at it."

Alice took Milly's hand and smiled.

"Dear, you are so young and innocent; it's a pleasure to be working with you. Older people are not like young people; they prefer enjoying their sexual activity behind closed doors.

"Are you sexually experienced?"

"Not really, although I'm not a virgin. My experience is confined to nervous gropings, although I never was the nervous one, at least not after mum got me on to the pill."

"Oh, you poor thing. What you need is to have it off with an older man."

"How old?"

"As old as you like."

Milly looked dumfounded.

"You mean the elderly Roberts' are not an exception?"

"Goodness no," said Alice, pressing the smaller hand in hers affectionately, and looking at Milly like an aunt would look at her favorite niece.

Alice had been pleased to be assigned Milly. The personable trainee was attractive, possessed a lovely figure but above all was very intelligent with an enquiring mind. Other trainees were more docile with all sorts of screw-ups in their lives. In comparison Milly was, well, so fresh.

She told the fascinated Milly that a minority of people fornicated practically until their effective life on earth ended. Many others were still at it into their seventies.

"Even my grandparents?"

"Who knows? Providing any older man can sustain an erection and a woman can bear to have it in an orifice, they are capable of having effective sex."

"Any orifice?"

"Yes," said Alice, firmly.

There was a silence as they watched five ducks land on the water. Milly made no effort to withdraw her hand and Alice stared at their linked hands until Milly sighed.

"What are you thinking, Milly."

"Oh gosh, it's embarrassing."

"Go ahead and ask."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"You're not married, so who do you have sex with, Alice?"

"Anyone barring relatives and patients."

"Anyone – does that include women?"

"Actually that's been my preference in recent years, dear."

The conversation stopped dead, yet Milly left her hand where it was.

Finally Milly spoke, almost whispering.

"I'd like to have sex with you if you want me."

Milly yelped as her hand was squeezed by her solidly-built forty-three year old companion.

No apologizing, knowing that she'd not really hurt Milly, Alice checked the time and said they had time for one leisurely fingering.

Alice said when they were together like this they should forget technical niceties. She then asked whether Milly wanted to be the giver or receiver.

Flushed with excitement and a little embarrassed, Milly said: "I have been sitting here wondering what your cunt is like. I chose to be the giver."

Smiling broadly at the innocence of that confession, Alice rose and pulled her panties down over her knees and lifted one leg out of them. She then draped one leg over Milly's knees, giving the giver maximum access.

"Oooh, your cunt is big – the vulva is the size of a small dish," breathed Milly.

This time it was Alice who flushed and she jerked her hips forward quite unintentionally. Oh yeah, was this youngster a natural! Alice jumped again when feeling a rush of warm air blown over her vulva, Thank Christ she had a hand towel in the glove box – she'd be in danger of being sluiced dry if this kept up.

"Pretty, pretty pussy lips; pretty, pretty pussy lips; pretty, pretty pussy lips," sang Milly, leaving Alice to roll up her eyes in wonderment; how could life be so kind!

Slim fingers parted Alice's labia and two of them dipped into her vagina.

Don't forget the prize, my impressive clitoris, breathed Alice, just as it was stroked for the first time.

"Goodness gracious – what beauty," Milly enthused, giving it a couple of good twangs.

Already red-faced through arousal, Alice simply let go and quivered as a cluster of minior quakes rippled through her vagina. She couldn't recall in recent years orgasming so quickly.

Milly sat up, licking goo from her fingers, causing Alice to moan and orgasm again as she watched this over-the-top display of this little vixen. The little strumpet was more experienced than she'd implied!

Alice helped herself to some drippings then, after checking that there were not under close observation, leaned over and kissed Milly. They entwined tongues, releasing only when hearing a raised voice say, "Well I never!"

The offended woman walking her dog was already someway off, and Alice hoped that she'd not been close enough to read the signwriting markings on the car identifying it was a department vehicle.

THREE

Eight days after her memorable field trip, Milly set out to have sex with an older man. Deliberately she targeted a very much older man - Mr Peters who she knew was sixty-six as she'd organized his recent birthday party. Mr Peters lived in the house beside the home of Milly and her now presumably sexually active parents.

Mr Peters was sexually active because he'd admitted it, but only after intense hassling by the inquisitive Milly, whom he adored.

Sometimes when they were on to their second bottle of wine he'd call Milly, "My Memory of Youth." She thought that was very sweet, and the last time he mentioned that, only two days ago, she decided that Mr Peters would do nicely to have his older cock into her young cunt to really remind him of his youth.

Milly wished she could have told Mr Peters that filthy description of her intentions. Words like that made she feel 'hot' and would probably rev up Mr Peters as well.

Mrs Peters went south on the last week of every second month to stay with her sister, which was the week when Milly had developed the habit over almost ten years of popping in to give Mrs Peter's husband some company – "Quality Time" he called it. That led to Milly cooking for him and then soon Milly was being invited to stay and eat with him.

When Milly turned seventeen some eighteen months ago, Mr Peters had opened a bottle of wine and thereafter that had become standard practice; more recently a second bottle being opened.

"I'm going to cook dinner for Mr Peters, mum," Milly called, aware that her mother would have had a fit if knowing what her daughter was hoping to accomplish.

"Fine darling, your father and I are going out for dinner at the Luke's. Mind you don't drink too much over there. I thought you were rather tipsy when arriving back home the last couple of times."

"Who me?

"Bye mum."

In theory, Mr Peters didn't have a chance of resisting being carried away by her frontal assault, thought Milly. She'd planned her seduction meticulously. At the same time she knew that old folk could be pretty stubborn.

"Hi, it's Milly," she said, entering the house and locking the door.

Mr Peters was already at the fridge pulling out a bottle of cheap white wine.

"Hello sweetie," he said, saying that he'd marinated two beautiful steaks and had also bought a big slab of apple pie. He boggled when Sweetie bowled up to him and kissed him full on the lips, and murmuring "Hmmmmh." Sweetie always kissed him on the cheek.

"I've got us some oysters – you know what they are?"

"Sea food?" stalled Mr Peters, wondering if his little sweetie even knew the word aphrodisiac. But Milly appeared to have finished that line of conversation and was now telling him to put on some music.

"You want something to jingle along with those boobies of yours?"

In recent months Mr Peters had got a little personal, mentioning that she was "becoming a fine young woman" and "showing nice development" but this was the first time he'd elevated to mentioning boobs.

"Oh good heavens, what am I saying; whatever was I thinking?"

"It is acceptable that an older man with excellent vision and a lively brain interprets what he sees."

"Huh?"

"It's all right; I've got a touch of verbal diarrhea. But I'm glad you like my boobies."

They laughed. She couldn't believe he's gifted her that opening, and was pleased that her reply was a bull's-eye.

At the bench Milly bent to get glass dishes, pretending she was having difficulty finding them in the bottom draw. They were the first things she'd seen. She was wearing her short black dress and self-supporting fishnet stockings.

Dragging her torso down to the drawer she knew that Mr Peters was getting an eyeful of stockings, white flesh above them and the crutch of her new red silk panties. It was very quiet over at the table, unnaturally quite. She glanced in that direction as she straightened up and was rewarded by seeing Mr Peters, sitting there frozen, mouth agape.

Brilliant!

"I went shopping today?"

"Really?"

"Yes, bought some new underwear. Rather sexy."

"Really?" choked Mr Peters.

Milly gave the impression she was about to ask did he want to see, then smiled and turned away. Glancing back she saw Mr Peters taking a big gulp of wine.

Nervous, Milly was also worried. This was going too well according to plan. Any moment now either the phone would ring, someone would knock at the door or Mr Peters would feel the pressure building up and bolt.

With this uncertainty, she was not concentrating well and almost dropped the oysters.

Milly started the steaks on the hot plate and walked over to the table with the oysters with a scene from an old movie prominent in mind.

"Sorry, only spotted one glass dish. We'll have to share."

Mr Peters could have said there was a whole drawer of them, but for some reason he didn't.

Milly forked an oyster, and just like in that old movie, when she leaned forward and Mr Peters opened his mouth, she opened her mouth. Mr Peters looked startled but the oyster dropped on to his tongue and he swallowed. He watched Milly fork another oyster and drop it on to her tongue and swallow while she stared at him and went, "Hmmmm."

Five more oysters were fed to Mr Peters in similar manner, with both of them opening their mouths, and he watched Milly feed five to herself. Tension in the room was high. Milly saw little beads of sweat appear on his forehead and her crotch and under her arms felt damp.

Although Milly doesn't have a big bust, she was wearing a half-bra so leaned forward slowly, kissed Mr Peters on the cheek lightly and then withdrew slowly, maximizing the time he had to look down her shirt if interested; he appeared very interested.

Well, that was it. Milly had completed her presentation in the true sense of the word. If Mr Peters were warm-blooded and at all promiscuous he would react in due course; she must exercise patience.

Milly was on tenterhooks when Mr Peters finally struck when finishing his apple pie.

"You mentioned earlier that you have acquired new underwear. Does anyone ever get to see it?"

"Would you like that person to be you?"

The rapidity of the response and its directness caught Mr Peters by surprise.

"Yes," he replied, swallowing hard.

"I don't want you telling anyone about this, Mr Peters. This is something that I'm simply doing for a dear friend."

The relief on Mr Peters' face was something to behold. He poured another glass of wine and sat back on his chair, waiting impatiently for the show to begin.

Milly took off her shirt, revealing her red half-bra with its red satin inserts. She backed up to Mr Peters and asked him to unclasp it.

"You will get a better idea of the workmanship if you inspect it up close," she simpered.

He did what he was told. As the bra fall away Milly did two pirouettes to distance herself so that Mr Peters could see but not touch. She was pleased at the result: Mr Peters had the cute bra in his hands, but that's not what he was looking at. In all probability it was twenty years minimum since he's seen a pert pair of breasts curving upwards from just under the nipples.

Milly dropped her skirt, and thrust her pelvis forward.

"Milly, Milly! croaked Mr Peters. Come into my arms, I desperately need to hold you."

She dropped into his arms like a butterfly, and then rammed her tongue into his mouth. The result was electrifying: a tongue wrapped around hers, pulling it further into his mouth and his hand clamped on to her right breast.

"Oh Mr Peters, this is very nice," she said, coming up for air. "This is something I've long waited to get from you."

Milly didn't expect a man well past his sexual prime to place her on her back then draw her up on to her shoulders, step across her and then bend his cock down and into her from a standing position like young Ivan Fender did with ravaging her. But she was disappointed that Mr Peters laid her flat to 'missionary' her. How dull!

Prior to that, Mr Peters exposed himself to her, almost apologetic. But no apology was necessary. Hanging out of his trousers was almost six and a half inches of sleek and slim cock. Milly had imagined it would be wrinkled like his surrounding skin, or at least the skin she normally saw on his face, arms and hands. Not at all.

So pleased was she that she bent down and took the first half of it into her mouth and felt it throb, establishing it was very much alive. Mr Peters looked as if he'd just inherited a fortune.

Two calloused hands landed on her boobs, but so what? Her tits were used to rough hands and had been clawed and pummeled, sucked and dribbled on by assorted males, though never more than one at the time.

Suddenly her nipples were achingly stiff; what was he doing? wondered Milly, deciding to lift her head to look.

Mr Peters was palming her orbs in concentric circling that fell just short of the areola. Then he was swinging his head from side to side to allow his tongue to sweep over each nipple. Her breasts seemed to swell and her cunt was dripping; she knew she was ready for him.

"Put it in," she said thickly.

Mr Peters did as instructed, eventually. He placed Milly on the bed with her head towards the base, and she wondered why she'd been positioned so deliberately. It soon became clear.

Mr Peters dropped his trousers and his underpants, but like a gentleman kept on his shirt and socks. Milly was glad he hadn't been wearing a tie otherwise he may have kept that on!

Like a rider climbing into the saddle, Mr Peters hooked his toes between the mattress and the bed head. In a flash Milly realized what he was doing – the cunning old ram was digging in to get maximum purchase!

The cigar-shared intruder slid slowly into Milly, and she felt every half inch as it advanced incrementally. It was great, in fact as far as she could remember up there with the best of them except Willie Johnston who seemed to be half man, half horse.

Then as he began sliding in and out of her Milly could feel herself being pulled back towards the headboard against each thrust. She hadn't realized that fucking could be so technical.

The man was brilliant, giving her the impression, one would have to assume – falsely, that at each forward thrust as he pulled her back he was getting maximum penetration. Milly honestly believed she was sprawled out under a grunting genius.

After a few minutes, about the time half the fellows she'd ever been with would have ejaculated into her or all over her, he was simply maintaining the same leisurely pace; virtually send her climbing up the wall.

Every nerve end was white-hot and shouting for release.

After twenty minutes she was a helpless, gurgling mass, having orgasmed perhaps sixty times; she'd lost the ability to keep counting. Mr Peters looked concerned and asked, "At the end of your tether, dear?"

Gurgling, she looked at him appealing, unable to speak.

The thrusting stopped immediately, Mr Peters withdrew his penis, it was now looking almost fire-engine red, and stroked it twice. A trickle of cum seeped out and slipped over the end.