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All characters are over the age of 18 years old and all players are consenting adults.
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For anyone who feels like I do about big busty mature women my new position at the St. Ophelia Retirement Village is a dream come true. I am surrounded with a smörgåsbord of the most desirable females imaginable.
There were huge fat bottoms everywhere, maybe squeezed into tight-fitting Lycra gym shorts or colorful Spandex bike pants. And massive breasts flashed, hanging loosely in low buttoned shirts or big hard nipples popping out of straining cotton t-shirts.
There are skin-tight swimsuits around the pool or exotic lingerie worn by those you'd least expect. Maybe, like Mrs. Watson, it's a glamorous dress or light sexy sundress; its wearer laughing at a stray breeze blowing it up, flashing her legs and knickers.
Tall and heavy or short and buxom. Soft and gentle women or tough assertive matrons. Delectable women in their fifties and sixties and decades older, line up outside the massage room every morning, patiently waiting for their turn.
About half are only interested in a relaxing therapeutic massage. The other half was in the 'could be tempted' category. I hoped desperately that the last lady I was seeing today would be on that list.
Kathleen Higgins not only looked almost exactly like Betty White she was just about as sweet as well. Her fine peroxide blond hair had that same distinctive wave as the Golden Girls star and the same twinkling blue eyes, full of mischief. The first time I saw her I was smitten.
We hit it off immediately and she became my regular last customer on Friday afternoon.
Most of the residents at St. Ophelia Retirement Village have no idea about the seamy side of my services, assuming my popularity is because I'm such a good masseuse. Kathleen is one of those naive souls, though I'm hoping she finds out the truth soon.
One afternoon she invited me to dinner and I jumped at the chance. "A young mans body needs fuel Johnny," she said in that wonderful southern drawl she has.
Walking back to her place we were like a tentative couple out on a first date - really liking the other person but unsure how to proceed.
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THE SECRET ROOM
I found the hidden room by accident.
It had been a lovely evening with Mrs. Higgins. She was an excellent cook and I'd wolfed down lashings of rump roast and baked vegetables with gravy and biscuits. And then there was pudding with ice cream and cream for dessert.
She wasn't going to let me do the washing up but eventually I was allowed to dry the dishes. Afterward we sat next to each other on her lounge and I repaid her kindness with a foot massage. We listened to The Platters on her record player as I got to massage her feet.
It was all very innocent I guess but I had to fight the urge to suck her toes and I don't think she'd have minded if I did. As is always the case on first dates, neither of us wanted to risk saying or doing the wrong thing. And what was the rush anyway?
When I left I got an invitation to dinner next Friday as well and a kiss that was much more than friendly. This beautiful old woman put her arms around my neck and, pressing her voluptuous body against me, closed her eyes and kissed me long and hard.
Happy and full and in a sexual haze I got all the way to my room before finding I didn't have my door keys.
Everybody has experienced that panic when you've tried all your pockets twice and your mind racing, trying to think back... I took a deep breath to calm myself and finally remembered I'd left them along with my wallet on the shelf under the massage table in the basement.
Sighing, I headed back down the stairs, past the dark library, through the empty commissary, usually full of happy gossiping women picking up a loaf of bread or milk, then out into the cool evening. At 11pm the place felt deserted. It was quite late by retirement village standards. My footsteps sounded loud as I walked along the footpath at the side of the old building and down the shadowy concrete stairs to the basement
The swinging doors were unlocked thank goodness and I flicked the light on the wall. Bright fluorescents flickered on bathing the waiting room/hallway in bright white light. My eyes squinted as I hurried to the massage room door.
I didn't turn the light on; just felt my way using the light spilling in from the hallway. I found my keys just where I knew they would be.
It was when I was turning to leave that I saw the glow coming from the big wall mirror.
At first I thought it was a reflection - the hallway light bouncing off the big expanse of glass - but no, it wasn't that...
There was something inside there.
I've drunk too much of Mrs. Higgins's wine, I thought. I can't be seeing this...
I stepped up close and, cupping my hands on the glass, looked between my fingers like Alice through the looking glass.
It was dim but there was another whole room in there. A room hidden from view nearly all the time - except when the light in this room was less than the light in there.
The faint illumination that had given it away was coming from a computer in power-saving mode. A colorful fluorescent swirl on the screen was casting the dim moving glow that had given the game away. There was light enough to show up a large professional looking movie camera as well, sitting up on a tall tripod. The lens was pointed through the glass at me, directly into this room.
I was dumbstruck. Somebody had been filming me. Me and Nurse Adams... and all the other ladies I'd fucked... My mind reeled as I thought back.
In a daze I walked back out into the hall and found the plain looking wooden panel door that must lead into the secret room. It was locked.
Frustrated and angry at this invasion of my civil rights I put my weight against it. I'd break it down and find the culprit. Nobody had the right to... but no matter how hard I tried it didn't budge. The old thick hardwood was like a brick wall. I needed the key and with a flash I remember Nurse Adams' mammoth key chain. It had hundreds of keys on it. My key would have to be one of them.
I ran up the stairs two at a time, back through the empty building, to the second-floor nurse's accommodation. I knocked and then pounded on Nurse Adams' door until she eventually opened it, holding it on a chain.
"What could you possibly want at this hour?" she demanded in her thick British accent. "It is nearly midnight!"
"Let me in," I demanded breathlessly.
Grumpily she undid the chain. She swung the door open and stood in the doorway. She didn't invite me in.
"Why?" she said with her arms crossed under her humongous tits.
Nurse Adams had curlers in her hair and was wearing a long shear satin nightgown - pale green and shimmery. Unlike the tight nurse's uniforms she always wore this nightie must have been the biggest size available and it actually accommodated her curvaceous body.
It clung just right. Falling loose down her legs it became tighter and tighter over her wide hips and ass. She had cleverly used the plus-size to support her huge round tits, tucking them into the folds of extra fabric, supporting them like a bra...
...her always large hard nipples stuck out provocatively... looking at me like eyes...
My cock had gone rock hard, my mission momentarily erased from my horny mind.
Visibly irate she suffered me looking her up and down. "What do you want boy?" she demanded.
I had to think for a second.
