Special thanks to his Hislittleho for editing.
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"We have literally dozens of senior citizens that need some sort of assistance or another. We can use whatever help you can give us." Mrs. Collins needed volunteers desperately. The senior center was relying too heavily on the few volunteers they had already.
Tracy was looking for something to do that would give her life more purpose. At forty-two years old, her two children were away at college and her husband wanted her to keep her schedule open so he would rather she didn't find a job. No matter where she decided to spend her time, however, Tracy got attention. At 5'4 130 pounds, blonde with a narrow waist, round ass and big, full 36DD breasts with pinkish-red nipples, she looked like she might have been a model or even an adult film star. She looked much younger than she really was. Lots of exercise and staying out of the sun helped keep her very young looking. Tracy was pretty naïve in general, and had little experience sexually outside of her husband and a couple of boyfriends. She dressed rather conservatively, although it didn't matter too much what she wore as her hot body could simply not be hidden very well.
"Well, I suppose I could give you an hour or two, let's say three times per week? What do you need me to do?" Tracy started to feel good about volunteering, that she was doing some good in the world.
"I think I will have you visit Mr. Goodson. He is a widower and a lock-in and doesn't get out much, if at all. He has almost no family and he would be a good place to start volunteering." Mrs. Collins gave Tracy the case file for her to start with. Harry Goodson was a seventy-eight year old ex-construction foreman and was depressed after having lost his wife of fifty years last year. He was black and requested a volunteer to help him with some minor health problems, keep him company, and possibly help him with some minor chores.
Tracy was excited. "Mr. Goodson, huh? I can't wait!"
She was to visit Mr. Goodson on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The Center recommended that she spend ninety minutes to two hours with him as these times were about the minimum that a visit would be most effective. They suggested bringing over some cards and other board games, but that the time should be interactive and not taken up with too much TV, napping, or on the computer.
"Now, don't let him waste your time. You are going out of your way to be a companion to him so be sure to keep him engaged. If you do decide to watch TV, be sure it is not a regular activity and that you do it together. Try to remember that he is older and from a different generation. You may want to dress much like you are now. Tracy was wearing a blue knee-length skirt and a patterned blouse with four-inch navy blue heels.
Tracy's first visit began the following day, Tuesday. When she got home, she laid out a black skirt with a white, sleeveless blouse and black heels. Her husband, Jim, did not approve of the volunteer work, but thought it best to let her have this time to feel good about something. Now that the kids were gone she had little to do around the house.
The next morning, Tracy took a shower, dressed, had breakfast and set her GPS to Mr. Goodson's address.
The directions took her to an older part of her town, not a bad neighborhood, but not one she would choose to live in either.
"454 Acacia Street, Number 3." Tracy had found the duplex that Mr. Goodson lived in and approached the door straightening her skirt and fixing her hair that she wore in a bun for this occasion.
She rang the bell and listened intently for signs of life from the other side. She thought she heard a woman's voice moan or singing, but it was hard to tell.
The door opened swiftly and there stood a 6-foot tall bald, black man with a dark, charcoal complexion, and round beer belly. He was wrinkled and very old looking and was wearing basketball shorts and a guinea T-shirt.
"Hello there Darlin,' you from the Senior Citizens Center?" He scratched his groin and adjusted himself causing Tracy to look aside for a moment.
"Yes, I am! My name is Tracy Moore. How do you do?" Tracy extended her hand and was relieved to have finally met her first volunteer "case." She was also happy to see that he seemed nice and was not bed-ridden.
She walked in and found a clean and well-organized condo. The furnishings were old, as were the appliances and pictures on the wall; it smelled a little old and stuffy in there. She was surprised to see what looked to be a 60" flat screen TV in the living room area and a desktop computer on a table pushed up against the wall on the opposite side.
She looked around some more, then turned to him and asked,
"Do you have anything you would like to do for our first visit?" Tracy had her hands folded together at her waist and this pushed her already huge breasts out even more.
Harry Goodson thought to himself "Damn. Look at this fine specimen that is in my house. I could cum in my pants she's so hot...and innocent acting too! Just like I like."
He was thrilled this hot, white, big-breasted blonde bitch had been assigned to him. He planned to take advantage of this woman to the fullest. He had some Viagra he was saving for an occasion just like this, but he also knew he needed to take it slow if was to get what he wanted from her.
"Well, young lady. I haven't been feeling too well lately" Harry was lying. He wanted to see how far he could take her today, on her first visit. Normally, the Center sent volunteers that resembled retired nurses. This hot piece of ass really changed the nature of the game. He sighed and continued.
"I have an issue with my circulation in my legs and I was just about to take a bath. Would you mind helping fill the tub and make sure I don't slip? Maybe you can read to me or tell me something about yourself while I soak." Mr. Goodson looked at Tracy's reaction carefully- seeing how she would handle this request that actually required that he get naked during her visit.
"That sounds like a great idea!" She replied enthusiastically.
Her attitude about this volunteer work was more clinical than social. Tracy saw herself almost like a hospice worker or geriatric nurse caring for this decrepit old man; helping him ease comfortably into the final phase of his life. She saw no innuendo or inappropriateness in Mr. Goodson's request. In fact, she was delighted she could actually do something besides play cards or make him lunch.
Tracy proceeded to the bathroom and started the water. She looked under the sink and found an old box of bath bubbles that must have belonged to his deceased wife. She added some to the water and walked back out into the living room where Mr. Goodson was sitting on the couch watching every move she made. He had just taken a Viagra, although he felt his cock begin to get hard even without it.
"The tub is almost full, Mr. Goodson. Why don't you undress in the bathroom and let me know when it is okay to come in?"
Harry was thinking how to play this. The needier, older, and more incapable he came across, the easier it would be to request more hands-on assistance. The gamble was that she might find that unappealing or inappropriate. His ultimate goal was to make this sexy white woman into a fuck buddy, or better yet, a slave to his black cock, but he couldn't do that if he presented himself as someone who needed no assistance at all. She didn't seem like the type to cheat, and she was treating him more like a child than a virile older man.
