All characters are at least 18 years old. No alcoholic senior citizens were injured in this story!
Kathy McKissick sat on her second-floor balcony overlooking the basketball court. She was sipping her fourth gin and tonic of the day. Her eyes were partially closed, and her mouth hung up as she dozed. Periodically, she woke up and sipped her drink.
Most days began and ended like this for the 52-year-old divorcee. She started drinking shortly after breakfast and drank until she passed out. Most days, the divorcee would drink herself into oblivion only to repeat it the next day.
Kathy was barefoot, her chubby legs spread at the knees. Her only clothing, a red satin robe, was tied loosely at the waist. Her outsized 40E breasts rested on her wrinkled belly pooch.
She mopped sweat from her moon-shaped face with a swipe of her pudgy hand. It slid over the lump of meat that was her nose and down over her receding chin. Her rheumy, close-set eyes watched as the Black youths play one one-on-one basketball in the courtyard below her balcony.
The Anderson twins, Lamar and Leonard, were 18-year-old lifelong residents of the gentrifying neighborhood. They lived with their single mother parent.
Their lithe, lightly muscled, athletic bodies twisted and turned in a ballet of alley ball as they dribbled, defended, and drove to the basket. Sweat streamed off their muscular bodies, making their bodies gleam in the sunlight.
Kathy bought the brownstone with the proceeds from her divorce settlement. Her husband of thirty years decided he could no longer tolerate her drinking or promiscuity. The straw that broke the camel's back was when he came home after work to find her passed out drunk, tied to the bed and covered in cum.
Since moving in, Kathy got to know her neighbors, including the twins' single mother. The twins became her go-to's for odd jobs around her house. They were excellent handymen with many and varied skills.
She watched these twins a couple of times a week, fantasizing about how it would feel to have both young Black boys using her. She imagined herself naked, spit-roasted by those young cocks.
Her hand drifted between her legs, caressing her pussy. She had the same fantasy several times a month. Kathy dozed off as she fingered herself.
The doorbell ringing startled her from a drunken nap. She picked up her drink and drained the warm dregs. She swayed as she stood and caught herself on the railing. Moving carefully, like a tightrope walker, she tottered to the door.
The Anderson twins were at her door. One held the basketball on his hip. They both smiled diffidently.
"We're sorry to bother you. We're locked out of our apartment..." said one twin.
"...and our cell phone batteries are dead. Could we use your phone to call our mother?" said the other.
Kathy eyed their shirtless bodies appreciatively. Sweat streamed down their muscular bodies. Her nose twitched as their rank odor wafted into her apartment. The gleaming bodies she found so enticing from her balcony stank of sweat.
Beneath that rank odor was another scent, the aroma of their raging pheromones. The twins were in the prime of their sexual lives. The scent aroused memories of sweaty bodies, hard cocks, and wanton fucking.
"Sure," she slurred, opening the door wide and stepping back. The acrid aroma wafted in as they filed past her. "The landline phone is on the counter in the kitchen."
Her lips went dry when she saw the significant bulge in their sweat-soaked board shorts.
One of them walked to the kitchen. She heard him explain that they were locked out. There was a brief conversation, and then he hung up the phone.
"Momma is pissed, but she says she will be here shortly. Thanks for letting us use your phone." As one, they moved toward her door.
"Wait! I have some cold lemonade. Would you like a glass?"
The twins looked at each other and then back at Kathy.
"Yes! Thank you...!" The first twin started.
"...we don't want to impose..." the second twin added.
"But we're very thirsty!" The first twin finished.
"That's so cute," Kathy tittered. "You finish each other's sentences."
The twins smiled. Their eyes lowered shyly, and they carefully inspected their expensive new sneakers as if they had never seen them before.
"Yes, ma'am..." the first twin began
"...we do everything together!"
The twins exchanged a quick, knowing smile.
"Well, sit down! Sit down!" Kathy swayed as her arm moved expansively, indicating the kitchen table.
When she stretched to retrieve two glasses from her kitchen cabinet, her robe rode up, exposing the plump lower cheeks of her ass. The twins exchanged a look and a smile.
Kathy filled their glasses with ice-cold lemonade from her refrigerator and freshened her drink. She then sat their glasses in front of them and sat at the table with the twins on either side.
"Well, here's to you!"
She raised her glass in a toast, and the twins followed suit with their lemonade. Her robe separated as she turned her glass up, exposing her cavernous cleavage. The twins stared goggle-eyed.
Kathy sat her glass down and looked from one twin to the other.
"I still can't tell you apart," she laughed.
Her robe separated from her navel, covering just her rigid nipples. In an alcoholic haze, she realized they were staring at her tits.
"Stop ogling my titties," she said, tittering.
She tried to close her robe, but her fingers felt like unresponsive sausages. The robe opened further, exposing her humungous jugs.
"Yes, ma'am," the twins replied.
They hungrily eyed her blue-veined melons. Her areolae were like small saucers, and her nipples were like the first joint of her pinky finger.
"OH! I'm so sorry! What must you think of me!"
In an action only a drunk would understand, she stood, fully opened her robe, and tried to pull it close and tie it.
