It was a lovely warm Saturday I woke to, anxious to relax from my job, a non-stop frenzy of real estate brokering and making land deals happen. I work hard and enjoy it. At 65, when most are retired or readying for it, I keep going, and the work and pleasure it brings keeps me young. With my curly salt-and-pepper hair and thick but athletic body, I look and feel younger than my years. And certainly act it.
As usual, I lounged around my house not caring what I looked like, my hair a shaggy mess, a short flannel non-descript robe on, and nothing beneath, save for a falling pair of "granny knee highs," those black nylons older women like. I wore them to bed, and now they were falling down around my thick, hard calves, and on my feet I pulled on a pair of fluffy slippers.
I poured myself a coffee and pulled up to my computer, getting comfortable in the leather chair, flipping on the screen and going to my favorite sites: Any to do with young men enslaved by older women! IT was my favorite fantasy, and one I'd act out on occasion, always finding eager young studs anxious to please an older, demanding mistress.
I was just cranking up good in the first hour or so, finding some delicious porn clips of older woman taking young men's faces in their pussies, all of which were hairy as mine, wet, wanton, open, and swallowing the stud's lips, tongues and mouths, using them for their singular pleasure.
I was just fingering my hairy pussy to a satisfying degree, my thighs spread, one foot on the desk, the other on the floor, completely enmeshed in fantasy, just seconds away from a crushing self-inflicted orgasm, when the bell rang.
"You have GOT to be fucking kidding me!" I growled to myself, ignoring the bell and fingering my pussy harder.
It rang again. And again. The mood was shattered, and I was none too happy. Loosely tying the robe around my thick hips, I stormed to the door, feeling my falling kneehighs flopping around my meaty calves.
"What is it?" I snarled, throwing the door open.
There stood a handsome young man, rake in hand, smiling, not at all put off by an old angry woman standing at the door.
"Good morning, ma'am, I was just wondering if you'd like to hire me to rake your yard!" he said with happy businesslike attitude.
I looked at him. Blonde, blue eyed, eager, brilliant smile, tight little body in his t-shirt and jeans. He'd do.
"How old are you, son?" I asked.
"Nineteen, ma'am, and working my way through college," he answered with a grin. "Would you be interested in my services?"
"Well, since you interrupted what I was doing, yes, I would, you can finish what I started," I growled, opening the door. "Leave the rake outside, you won't be needing that."
"Yes, ma'am, I'm quite handy at household chores as well!" he said.
"I hope so," I said with a dark smile, feeling my robe slip open, knowing he could see the delicious sagging tits in the opening and a hint of my moist, dark pussy below. "But it's not your hands you'll need, it's your mouth."
His smile waned a bit, confusion on his pretty-boy face.
"Ma'am?" he asked cautiously.
"You interrupted my Saturday morning orgasm," I snarled, reaching for his shirt with one hand and yanking him easily inside, his skinny little body bouncing along with me, pulling him to look up at me as he stood a good six inches shorter than my five-foot-nine. "So now you finish me!"
He stammered and protested and could do nothing to stop me as I pulled him to my desk, forcing him to his knees, sitting down and pulling off my robe, spreading my meaty, wrinkled thighs. He stared at the giant mat of wet gray hair there, my cunt slips glistening from the furry thatch.
"Eat me," I snarled, leaning back and reaching up with my calves to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him forward, his face smashing directly into my pussy. "Make me cum!"
"NOoooo...mghfphsfff!!!!" he screamed, his hollers muffled by my wet pussy as I cupped his head in my hands and scissored his skull in my powerful, old thighs, locking my kneehigh-clad calves behind him.
"Tough shit, young man," I barked, pulsating my old, fleshy thighs on his ears, quivering the flesh around him and grinding my cunt into his mouth, feeling the hairy lips part and mash against his lips and nose.
Only his eyes were visible in the lethal clamp of my old thighs, and they were wide open and full of fear as I humped and bumped against his face, squeezing him hard enough to make his face turn blue. I laughed at his frantic moans from the pussy prison he found himself in, and worked myself harder against his face, gyrating my thick hips, lifting my meaty ass off the chair, slapping my sex to his mouth. He wasn't eating me so much as my pussy was eating him, just like in the clip playing on my computer screen. I watched it, moaning, now using one hand to lift my tit bags to my mouth to suckle my own nipples, the other hand around the back of his head, pulling him so hard into my crotch I thought my cunt would open wide and swallow him whole.
He screamed in protest, his hands pulling vainly at my thick, freckled thighs, and the screams vibrated deliciously in my cunt, electrifying my clit mashed against his lips and nose. I folded one thick calf to the back of his neck, tucking that foot under the opposite knee, a figure-four scissor hold that tightened my grip all the more, making any escape impossible. I laughed watching him squirm, my thighs bubbled up in flesh and muscle and all but obliterating his frightened young face.
"Forget it, kid, no one gets outta these legs!" I snarled, humping his face harder, feeling my pussy open wide, the slick lips dousing his face with my old-lady cream. "Now stick your tongue out, way out, and fuck me with it while I ride your pathetic face! Do it or I'll crush your skull!"
