Hello, this story is a continuation of another story called Not So Sweet Old Phil. Which is itself a follow on from That Saturday Morning. I didn't intend writing a series, it just seems to have happened. But if you want to understand the characters a little better, you may want to start from the beginning. I hope you enjoy it either way though, thank you.
Carole had no intention of going round to Phil's house that Saturday evening. Even though she had said she would, even as she said it, she had no intention of going. He'd had his fun, yes she had enjoyed it, and yes she had an amazing orgasm. He was her elderly next door neighbor though, almost thirty years her senior, and she had known him for years. It was wrong, it was sick, perverse, and the way he just expected her to show up on his doorstop, like some sex craved nymphomaniac, willing to let anyone who paid her any attention have their way? Who did he think he was?
But then there was that slap, she had never felt anything like it before. When he slapped her breast it sent a shock wave through her entire body. A short sharp pain that carried with it the most intense sensation of pleasure, that focused itself between her thighs. All the next day at work, she couldn't stop thinking about it and when she did she became wet and had to fight the urge to touch herself, as her nipples became stiff against her bra.
"Penny for them?" a customer asked. Carole was jolted back to real life with a bump, she had drifted off, thinking about what happened in her kitchen the other day. She was stood on the shop floor with a trolley full of tinned goods, and was supposed to be stocking the shelves.
"Um sorry?" she said questioningly, and blushing outrageously at what she had been thinking about as she looked up at the stranger.
"Penny for your thoughts," he explained, "you were in a world of your own, you okay?"
"Oh yes, yes, fine thank you, sorry, how can I help you?" Carole helped the customer, then got on with what she was supposed to be doing. That night in bed, alone with her thoughts, she couldn't resist the urge, and masturbated as she thought, weirdly, of the guy she had helped in the shop. She imagined him groping her, playing with her tits, even slapping them and having her, right there in the shop. The next day at work wasn't any better and again that night, she masturbated alone in bed, teasing and tentatively slapping her own nipples as she reached orgasm.
Then it was Saturday, Carole was still adamant, she would not be visiting Phil, the sweet old man next door who liked to slap women's breasts. No, she wasn't some slut desperate for attention, desperate to be wanted. It was almost six when she got home from work. She put the bag full of tonight's dinner on the kitchen counter, the wine bottle inside clinking as it bumped down.
"Hey guys, who is hungry?" she called out to her kids, there was no answer, so she went upstairs. There was no one else in the house. By the looks of it, and the smell of aftershave, they were out for the night. Maybe even the weekend knowing them. She went downstairs and looked at the food she had bought, then put it away. She wasn't hungry, she had butterflies in her tummy. So she went to her room, took off her work clothes and put on her robe, went downstairs, and opened the wine.
Curled up on the sofa, Carole watched the clock almost as much as she watched the TV. Still telling herself that she wasn't going next door. She stared blankly at the TV, watching but not taking it in. Her mind was on other things and as she drank her hand slipped inside her robe. Her fingers teasing her dark, firm nipples before pulling her robe open and pushing between her thighs. she emptied the last mouthful of wine from her glass, placing the empty vessel on the small table next to her and using her now free hand to pull on her nipples as she rubbed her button with the other. Her hips tensed, her body trembled and panting softly, she came as she thought about the old man next door having his way with her.
The long summer day was drawing to a close and the sun was just disappearing behind the neighboring rooftops. She reclined on her sofa, her robe open wide, legs apart, with a wonderful warm feeling of pleasure flowing through her body. She looked down at her large soft breasts in the fading light and wondered when they started laying so far apart. Her large dark puffy nipples a stark contrast to the soft pale globes. The bump of her belly and the deep dark well of her bellybutton, leading down between her thick thighs, to the soft dark curls of hair, neatly trimmed and not quite hiding the delicate wet folds glistening below. She finally admitted to herself the truth she had known all along, she was going to let the old man fuck her! In fact, she was going to let him do whatever he wanted, as long as he fucked her at some point.
Carole got to her feet, a little unsteadily, a bottle of wine on an empty stomach was probably not the best idea. Her hands trembled with nervous excitement as she pulled her robe together. Then she went upstairs, putting her fingers through her hair a few times trying to pull the mess up into a bun on the way to the shower. It was still very warm and she was feeling a little tipsy and naughty after her shower. So Carole turned on the light and pealed the towel from her body, wandering to and fro in front of her bedroom window and feeling a delicious thrill of excitement at the idea someone may be watching her. After a few minutes she took a long red dress with buttons up the front from her wardrobe, slipped it on fastening some of the buttons, but leaving a few open at the top so that the dress hung loose off one shoulder, and at the bottom so the dress opened up to her thighs. Then she tied the belt around her waist in a loose bow, went downstairs and out the back door in her bare feet. She was only going next door, no need for shoes. She felt like a teenager, sneaking out to go to a party. Going quickly on tiptoes down the side of her house and up to Phil's front door. The butterflies in her tummy became a full on storm as she lifted her shaking hand to press the doorbell.
Suddenly the door opened before her and Phil stood grinning down at her. "I knew you'd come," he said excitedly "I also knew you would be late," he continued as he stepped from his house and closed the door behind himself. "I was watching for you, even caught a glimpse of you in your bedroom." Carole blushed, she couldn't help it, was it because he had seen her naked in her bedroom window, or that he knew she was there on purpose? Who knew. The old man took her arm and lead her quickly to his car, one of those new minis. He bundled her into the front passenger seat, then hoped into the drivers seat and before she had time to think Carole found herself being driven out of town in her elderly neighbors car.
"Where are we going?" Carole asked as they joined the dual carriageway of the bypass and picked up speed.
"Just a short drive in the country, not too far, how was work today?" He changed the subject then proceeded to dodge any other questions while he talked at speed about everything and nothing. He seemed excited, almost giddy, and as they drove he stole glances across the car at his passenger. Carole noticed how he looked at her almost right away. And still feeling naughty and tipsy, she crossed her legs and let the split in the front of her dress fall open revealing almost all of her thighs. After about ten minutes they joined a motorway, and sped along to the next junction as the sun started to set in the orange and deep blue sky.
Carole raised her left leg, playfully hugging it herself as she pulled her foot up onto the seat, causing her dress to rise up even further and gather at her waist. Then she moved her right leg to the side and showed the old man her dark curly hair, and that she wasn't wearing any panties. He glanced over at her as he spoke, and lost his train of thought when he noticed her. She smiled at the old man's reaction, it was just what she had hoped for, there was a few minutes silence as he stole glances at her and she displayed herself for him. Then they left the motorway, turning onto a single lane carriageway that wound it's way through the countryside for a few miles. They turned up a smaller side road, and off that onto a narrow track that wound it's way uphill beneath dark trees, ending in a small car park next to a picnic spot with a view of the sunset.