Nii Cleans for John

Niki returns from the kitchen carrying a bowl of warm, soapy water and a flannel. She has taken off the leggings, socks and running shoes leaving only her pink, cotton nickers and a bright green T-shirt advertising a band he's never heard of. But John hasn't heard of any bands in the last 30 years so he pays no attention to that. He does pay attention to her long pale legs and her painted toes as she picks her way across his grubby carpet to stand in front of him with her heels together and one knee slightly bent. With her brown hair piled on top of her head and an emotionless, matter-of-fact look on her face she looks exactly as she always does on her weekly, one-hour-long cleaning visits. But she's never taken off her leggings before.

"Do you need some help with your trousers?"

It's a surreal moment and he's caught off-guard. Ever since she started regular cleaning for him three months ago he'd wondered if she'd do "extras". It took him three months to ask and when he did she had thought for only a moment or two before simply saying "yes", turning and walking away to the kitchen. Slightly shocked, he had watched her tight backside in those same, skintight leggings she always wore (probably only wore for her cleaning round) until she disappeared from view. Since then he'd just sat and waited for his heart to slow down and it hadn't sunk in that he had a role to perform. There will be no sitting and watching her clean his flat today. Today is going to be interactive and it is time to take his trousers off.

He stutters for a moment and decides that he doesn't "need" help but it would be nice.

"Yes please." He smiles.

She reaches to the side, works the bowl in amongst the clutter of the sideboard between his warfarin and a pack of cards and then reaches with both hands for his belt. 'Oh God' The belt is released, then the button, then the metal clip, all within a couple of seconds, then with one hand holding the top of his fly, she undoes the zip, accidentally brushing his cock through the material as she does so. He can hardly breathe and as she puts her fingers inside his waist band at his hips he turns his head to the side, and as she pulls both his trousers and pants down to his ankles in one go, he stares at the flannel in the bowl and hopes that the water is warm enough.

Relieved of his trousers and pants John can feel the texture of the chair against his bare arse and fresh air around his balls. He continues staring at the flannel knowing that he is naked from the waist down, in a room with a beautiful Hungarian girl, young enough to be his grand-daughter and she is probably looking at his cock right now. He drags his gaze back to Niki but can't resist taking a glance at his old man just to check on its status, concerned, obviously, that it might have panicked and shriveled down shorter than his pubes. What he sees of his todger is a slight relief. Not bad length, although no response to the beautiful girl just yet. Niki's eyes, however, are on the flannel.

She lifts it out of the bowl with both hands and squeezes out the excess water.

"I'm just going to give it a wash."

John isn't sure whether she's warning him or apologising to the flannel.

Over the next few minutes John moves from fear to embarrassment to numb to relaxed to aroused. She had started off the same way anyone sets about cleaning anything. She had picked it up. It had been many years, more than a decade even since John had felt fingers around his cock that weren't his own and, for a few seconds, he was scared that he wouldn't like it anymore. But he needn't have worried. Niki was gentle and thorough and he had watched her face as she rolled back his foreskin and made sure his helmet was clean, turning his penis over in her hand to check all around the rim. It was like she washed cocks everyday of her life. Maybe she did. Once his shaft and helmet were cleaner than they had been in years she had turned her attention to his balls. Opening the flannel out she had laid it in her palm then cupped his balls in her hand while holding his cock in her other hand the whole time. She had massaged them gently then cleaned all round the base of his todger and his pubic area before returning to his nut-sack. John, by now, had put his head back, closed his eyes and was congratulating himself on employing her in the first place and on having the money to pay for this. He had tried to isolate in his mind the feeling of her fingers. He had felt the length of her thumb along the front of his shaft as it lay, on its back as it were, on her warm palm, but had been unable to make out individual fingers except the tip of her index finger against the rim of his helmet. As the excitement had risen he hadn't dared to move, as not rising at all was a real danger.

And now his balls are still in the flannel and the flannel is still in her hand, but it has stopped moving. The other hand however, is moving. It is moving slowly and rhythmically, and squeezing too. The wash is over, this is something else.

71 year old John George Frankson sits in his chair with his head back, his eyes closed and his trousers and pants around his ankles as a 19 year old European student, wearing only t-shirt and knickers leans over him and slowly wanks his slowly growing phallus.

It's not until he is sure it is at least hard enough that he dares to open his eyes and what he sees swells his cock to a very respectable size. She is kneeling now and his cock looks big in her small hand. Her other hand rests on his thigh and, to his delight, she is smiling at him! For the first time since he met her she is smiling. Maybe she is enjoying this, although he is realistic enough to know that that is unlikely, but she is pleased about something. Maybe it is just the satisfaction of a job well done, a cock well hardened.

She looks back at him, smiles her smile and says "Shall I suck it now?" and John nearly has a stroke. He can't talk, he feels like crying so instead he puts back his head and closes his eyes.

The first thing he feels is her breath, right on the tip. It sends a thrill through him that starts and finishes at that most sensitive of points. Then something soft touches him, was that a lip or a tongue? Then, in the same instant, another touch on the opposite side. He is surrounded. Then something hot, hot and wet makes contact with the front of his shaft and starts sliding down. More lip touches around the helmet and then something hard, A TOOTH! 'Good God it's in!' It's actually inside her mouth. Then he feels her breath again as she exhales through her nose, her lips close around it and she slides as much as she can of his penis over her tongue towards her throat. He can't believe the heat! He's thought about how it might feel but he'd never accounted for the heat, you see, this is John's first blow-job.

Once his helmet hits the stopper that is her gag reflex, she lifts her head again, until just the rim appears from under her top lip, inclines it, just a bit, and then drops it back down. And so it goes for a little while. After a minute John lifts his head, steals a peak, almost cums, closes his eyes then opens them again. What a show! Those beautiful lips wrapped around his pale shaft, the way her cheeks move in and out as her head moves up and down, her half closed eyes and the sight of her fingers casually wrapped around the base of his cock.

After watching her lips for a while his gaze wanders around her face, across her hair, then down her neck to her shoulders, her back, then the part of her hip and thigh that he can see by craning his neck. He notices how her whole body rocks gently as her head bobs up and down with a gradually quickening pace. Looking back to the action now and he's got a proper stiffy, the kind that can support its own weight (and probably that of a towel) and she is using her hand on the part of his shaft she can't fit in her mouth. He places his hand on the back of her head as he's seen done in on TV. Her skull is hard and her hair makes it slippery, he pushes down very, very gently. Every now and again a tooth grazes his glands or the shaft but that just brings it home that his cock is deep in her mouth and makes his balls tingle with the pleasure of it. He closes his eyes again and feels her head bob half a dozen more times before lifting out from under his hand and the mouth is gone.

He opens his eyes and finds himself being appraised with a half-amused stare. His erection is still in her hand and she absent-mindedly wanks him for a few seconds before deciding "You are ready, no?"

Decision made, she stands and, before he realises what she is doing, she has peeled off the t-shirt and is reaching for her knickers. As she pushes them down over her knees John goggles at her naked breasts as they pendulum below her horizontal torso and sway left and right as she steps out of her knickers. As soon as her feet are clear of her knickers, she stands up and tosses them towards her handbag. Time freezes. She is only stood there for a second or two but John takes it all in. The T-shirt had been baggy. She is a rake, he can see her ribs but attached to that rib-cage are the most beautiful pair of tits he has ever seen. Small and perfectly proportioned to her skinny frame with pale, upturned nipples that are almost the same colour as her skin. His eyes drop instinctively down via her belly button to the place where her legs meet her body and each other, and as his hand drops instinctively to his cock his eyes behold her pussy and it is like no other he has ever seen. In John's experience the delicate parts of a lady's anatomy were always discreetly shielded buy a veil of soft curly hair, but not Niki's! Her slit together with a slight protuberance of her softer parts has been left on full display and it is calling to him in a language he has never felt before. This is an angel, an incarnate goddess of feminine perfection. It's as if Venus herself has come down to satisfy his masculine whim.

Niki is over by the window now, facing out and showing John her perfect bottom. He wonders if Benny is in the garden as he often is, or maybe Sheila. She picks up John's KY (prescribed and necessary), puts some on her fingers and puts her fingers between her legs. Maybe she took a bit too much because as she walks back towards him she is spreading it over an ever increasing area and her labia are glistening. He holds his breath as a finger disappears from view then reappears.

Back in front of him now she reaches for him with the same hand and applies what's left to his cock, running her fingers all around his helmet. All the while John can't drag his eyes from those breasts, swinging easily within his reach and he wonders if he dares touch them. It would be a shame to end the show so soon, so he just stares as they bump off her arms, as she rubs her slippery fingers on his slippery cock.

He continues to stare, his breathing loud in his own ears, as she puts her hands on the arms of the chair and places a knee next to his hip. They swing in tantalisingly close as she places her other knee next to his other hip, and as she raises herself up astride his lap and reaches behind her to find his now stonking erection, they are just inches from his face.

Then something else catches his attention. The only other thing in the world that could have grabbed his attention at that moment. Something smooth and slippery is brushing across the tip of his cock, and it isn't her hand. That's still holding the base of his shaft like it's a dart. She holds it steady, the smooth thing opens up and the tip of his cock is engulfed by a warm wet pressure. She lifts slightly then eases back down a bit further than before. John is watching her face now, she grimaces slightly and lifts once again but this time it slides in easily. She breathes out through her mouth, takes her hand off his todger and braces herself on the back of the chair.

Lifting up once more she closes her eyes and then drops into his lap sinking his cock all the way inside her pussy until, when looking down, all John sees are his pubes against her groin. Seemingly satisfied with the way things are going she opens her eyes and gives him that appraising smile again. John, finding his stride at last, reaches round and grabs her arse with both hands whilst simultaneously pushing up with his groin. She responds by initiating a slow bounce that gradually increases in depth and tempo until she is riding the full length of this old man's old man and her tits are bounding around in front of his face with her pointy nipples becoming a real danger to his eyes.

This is the moment to savour, John knows, this is what it was all building to, and now it is here it isn't going to last for long. He's only dreamt of moments like this with a girl like this and he is determined to make the most of it. Niki is working and breathing hard, her hair has half fallen down and she is beginning to sweat. Meanwhile John's cock is ready to explode. It has crossed his mind that the impending rush might kill him but he honestly doesn't care so without any further ado he calls his hands back from their arse assignment and manages to catch, with some difficulty, those beautiful, pointed, bounding tits.

Once he has them he fills his hands with them, crushes them against her rib cage as if that will help him feel them even more. Those tits are at this moment, for him, the source of all earthly pleasures and the feeling of those hard nipples digging into his palms is all it takes to send him onto that brief, sweet plateau where it hasn't started yet, but there's no going back either. Then, as it starts, he pushes his face between them and thrusts his cock as deep into her as he can. Niki, knowing what's coming, wraps her arms around his head and, with a smile on her face that he can't see, holds him as he unloads into her.

'Easy money', she thinks, and not a bad cock for an old man. 'Maybe next week I'll let him fuck me up the arse.'

Until next time.