The Bacup Plan

Some of this is true, some extended by fantasy. Lest you get turned off by the lead in, there is no incest in this story. It is inter-racial too, though not much is made of that.

I must thank some partners I had in crafting this story and getting over some creative roadblocks.

-'Heyall' helped me to see that the idea had some legs.

-'moncrief_the_advocate' provided excellent, attentive editing. mta, I appreciate all your effort.

*

We expected nothing from each other and somehow that attitude made our coming together all the more exciting.

Earlier in the day, Hani had messaged me. She wanted to come over, and I agreed since I had no plans.

"Sure. I have nothing better to do," I poked.

"I've got nothing better to do" was damned close to "I love you" for both of us. It is an exaggeration to say that we counted on each other when our other plans failed. But when we made time for each, requiring nothing, it was the world to us.

I could hear her huff. "Are you gonna make me dinner?" she implored. Her voice took on that musical quality that had come to send my hind-brain into overdrive. I had only heard it when she was in the throes of pleasure. I felt a stirring in my pants, but brushed off any thoughts of getting some action. Just the thought of her turned me on, but we had a tacit agreement.

"I'll be there in an hour."

"Sure, you will," I teased with the whole truth of what I expected.

Again, came a little huff, but she simply responded, "This time, I promise."

I was enjoying a day off and I set about chores that had been demanding my attention for the last few days. When my phone went off fifty minutes later, I couldn't believe my eyes.

"I'm here," read the text message.

"Use the buzzer," I messaged back.

I let her in and she entered my apartment. She had an overnight bag on her shoulder and a couple of wine bottles in her hand.

At least she isn't going to only drink mine. I chuckled to myself.

I put on a movie for background noise and we sat on the sofa and made small talk. I did a double take when she sat next to me instead of the opposite end of the couch, like she usually did. She leaned into me, occasionally offering her awkward caresses between sips of wine. It was pleasing, but uncharacteristic that she would be so affectionate.

It was getting late in the afternoon, so I got up to start dinner. She stated she needed to use the bathroom and went off down the hall.

I noted that she turned on the shower and took an awfully long time. I was facing the counter as I seasoned the meat when I heard the bathroom door open and the clack of stiletto heels on the tile floor of the kitchen. My curiosity piqued -- she was always barefoot in my place -- and I was consumed at the thought of what she was up to. She was predictably selfish and held her own appeal in too high regard, so she did not do anything deliberate to seduce me.

Now, her feminine aroma cried out to be noticed as she approached me. I pretended to ignore her and left her to draw me away from dinner preparations. I did a lot for that girl—the least she could do was make a solid first move.

"Whatcha making for me?" she purred as she pressed her body into mine. I loved the change in the quality of her voice when she was horny because it betrayed her desire. Raspiness gave way to a musical quality that enhanced

I'm your dirty little slut

to the level of a love song.

The scent of her arousal muddled her perfume and the pungent wine marinade I was preparing. Maybe it was her youth, but it had been a long time since I had experienced such an aroma. Other women I had known did not exude such a powerful assault on my senses. I had thought it was simply

fresh

, but maybe it was waning biochemistry.

"Just getting the marinade ready for the beef, little one," I replied.

Her hands closed around my waist and dropped lower. She nuzzled closer and leaned down to catch a whiff of my creation. "It smells delicious."

I fought hard to not reveal my desire and delved into our usual casual, derisive banter. "Even for you, I'm not gonna hold back on making something good. I'm getting hungry."

Hani wasn't taking the bait. "Aren't you gonna look to see what I prepared for you,

daddy?

"

*

We had met in a private club where I regularly performed. Over time, our greetings became warmer and more enthusiastic. A couple of the girls that I brought occasionally would throw me a dirty look as Hani would greet me with a hug and kiss with her full lips. The girls never said much as Hani often had someone with her, making the interaction appear innocent. How dangerous could it be, really? A sexy, dark-skinned girl, young enough to be my youngest daughter, was affectionate with me. It was probably nothing more than charity, as far as most of my women were concerned. While she inspired lust, and some under-the-covers fantasies, I couldn't chalk her affection up to much more than humoring an old man.

I wasn't that old. I'd met her when I was fifty-two. I didn't know her age, but figured out later she was barely twenty at the time. She came off as a little flighty, but much of that was due to alcohol. The club parties were a loose environment and Hani and I often shared tequila shots after I finished performing, continuously lowering our boundaries with each other. It was after one of these late-night sessions that Hani stopped me before I left. The whites of her large eyes were emphasized by her African complexion, and she stared into my face.

"You're going already, Jeff?" she asked. "The fun's just starting."

"Yeah, I have to work pretty early."

She hugged me, and suggested we hang out sometime. I agreed, but more as a matter of sociability. I didn't even consider that she meant it. My girlfriend would not take it very well and I didn't want to give the appearance of cheating. Still, the exchange was repeated the next time we met.

She was serious.

The next time we saw each other at the club, she was much more aggressive, if only playfully so.

One of my performance shticks is to dress up for the shows, and she gushed about how sexy I looked that night. She might have upped her game a bit because my girlfriend wasn't there, and I know I responded more directly for the same reason.

She was alone that night, so I spent a fair bit of time with her. While we watched the other bands, she would lean into me, put her head on my shoulder and thrust out her chest. I knew she had impressive breasts—they could not be hidden despite her modest dress. She wasn't modest with me this time and smiled when she saw me look down her top.

"Nice, eh? Dirty old man," she teased, but made no effort to hide the enticement.

Nice indeed. A significant trigger for me is a woman's apparent arousal and I caught the outline of an erect nipple poking through her lace bra. I felt a twitch in my pants.

"'Dirty old man', says the girl turned on by me ogling her breasts," I retorted

Later, we sat together on a bench, my arm around her shoulder innocently—innocently if taken out of context, that is. She never shied from my affection, but seemed to understand my attachment to my girlfriend and never went too far. We were just buddies, getting closer and closer.

That was in public, though. We had exchanged some text messages and she was driving the tone hotter. When talking about the coming winter, she asked if I was going to keep her warm. The idea was intoxicating and I was considering the idea of cheating with her. I knew I had to do something about it, if only to ease my conscience.

One Friday night, I was out with some friends and felt like a bit of a third wheel, so I messaged Hani. She was free that night and eager to get together, so we went for a couple drinks. When I took her home, not sure if she really knew, I reminded her that I had a girlfriend.

"The one with the cute, short hair? I know that, silly," she said.

Mission accomplished. But it did nothing to change my infatuation with her. I welcomed her messages and phone calls. I was still committed to my girlfriend, who was an amazing girl, and one of the biggest loves of my life, but I sensed that her affection for me had waned. She rebuffed my advances and behaved disrespectfully towards me, and our relationship was suffering.

Early one Sunday morning, I was unable to sleep. Hani saw that I was online and phoned me. She asked me to pick her up from the hospital where she'd been treated for an allergic reaction. I brought her back to my place, and we spent the early part of the day watching movies.

Alone with her for the first time, my resolve weakened. We were seated at opposite ends of the sofa. I started to move on her. I took her feet and legs in my hands, and rubbed them gently. She enjoyed the attention, and giggled when I licked her toes. I didn't progress any further—guilt over my girlfriend and Hani's recovery got the better of me.

Finally, one weekend, both my girlfriend and I'd had enough. We weren't angry and we didn't fight, but she proved my observations of her withdrawal, and declared that while she loved me, she felt there were too many obstacles to our relationship -- life path, social attitudes and political views. We parted that Sunday afternoon. I was going to miss her, but the past couple of months had stripped away much of my attachment to her.

With no guilt, I arranged to pick up Hani that night. We got wine and snacks to enjoy with a movie or two. She was surprised that I was now single, but held back at my advances. I expected she might even be offended, but over the next couple of days, she regularly pinged me up. We connected again on Wednesday -- both of us were off work.

She'd had a bad couple of days and wanted some respite and seemed to want it with me. She arrived and plopped on the sofa to watch a movie. We talked throughout and I would occasionally move over to kiss her or offer some other physical affection. Frustratingly, she would respond as a buddy even as I escalated my dominance: grasping her behind the head to pull her face to mine, closing in on her, making her kiss back. She seemed oblivious to this, but happily stayed close.

Hani is a bit of a phone addict, constantly messaging and sometimes taking calls. Near as I could tell, it was mostly family. Early in the evening, she took a call from her cousin, and it was apparent she was going to leave that evening. That was a little annoying and I was beginning to feel like just a friend. Not only just a friend, but someone to be used.

I was taken by surprise when after the phone call, she got up from the sofa and declared she wanted a back rub. She went into my bedroom. I warmed some coconut oil in the kitchen, and went to her. I saw her getting ready to crawl onto my bed. I helped her from behind as she undressed, and she giggled. She laid face down on the bed, and the vision of her was intense—the most perfect ass I'd ever seen, high and round with barely a crease where her cheeks met her thighs. Her burgundy thong was buried between the luscious globes, its presence shown only as it rose from the cleft in her butt. The top of her thong emphasized a deep taper from her hips to her waist. I held back a gasp at the voluptuous sight.

I was generous with the oil on her skin as I kneaded her back. The sheen melded with her complexion in a way I hadn't experienced before; I had only ever been with white girls. I decided to remove my own pants with no objections from Hani, and closed in against her as I continued to rub her down. Moving down her back, I paused at her ass to lick and nibble at her flesh. This was the first time I noticed her aroma. It was off-putting and I had a hard time deciding if she was clean or not.

I moved to her legs, working the warm oil into her skin. As I rubbed higher up on her thighs, her response was breathtaking. She barely whimpered in delight, but the movement of her hips and parting of her legs was the starkest of invitations. My oil-soaked fingers first caressed the fabric barrier of her panties, to which she gently ground back against my hand. I worked my fingers under to find the wettest lips I had ever experienced. She moaned and twerked her luscious ass against my hand as my fingers slipped inside her.

"My god, you've got a tight pussy," I declared.

"I know, eh?" she responded with her patented, self-absorbed pride.

"Conceited bitch," I scolded as the palm of my hand met the flesh of her ass with a crack.

To my surprise, she wiggled and squealed in delight. Spanking had come up in our banter and she made it sound off limits. I tucked that bit of information away for later.

"Okay, now it's time to do my front," she declared. She rolled over, fully revealing what I was seeking. Even lying back, her unsupported breasts spilling over the sides of her chest, she was statuesque. That vision was only enhanced by her youthful lack of grace— her legs flailing as I played with her, her body flinching at my touch or the flick of my tongue.

I wasn't responding to her the way I, nor she, would have thought. I got the impression that she expected me to be hard and ready to go without any attention from her, and I ended up not staying hard. I tended to her, putting out a lot of effort to help her orgasm. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it, too, but she would barely touch my cock, proclaiming, "This is all about me."

Soon, we made our way back to the living room, and resumed our places on the sofa. We started the movie again, made more small talk, and drank more wine.

Somehow, in short order, I did come to life and I enticed her back to the bedroom. Despite her lack of attention to me, her enthusiasm was arousing. I had told her earlier that I wrote erotic stories, and while she didn't seem interested in reading them, she encouraged me to craft a little fantasy about our play time. I went the boss/secretary route and she really got into the scenario, being reprimanded, spanked, and used. It probably helped that my version of using Hani meant delivering a lot of pleasure to her.

This time, she presented her body to me fully. She squealed in pleasure as my tongue moved from her pretty little pussy to her asshole. That was another data-point I tucked away.

I had no launch failures this go around and was completely ready when she raised her ass to me, pressed her face into the bed and begged me to fuck my

dirty little slut

.

The words dripped out of her mouth musically and I felt like the king of this little world. She received my cock and the palm of my hand with abandon and delight. She fucked like a porn star. Her little cunt gripped my shaft tightly and nearly pushed me out as she came. I guided one of my fingers to her ass, teased her ring, spit on it, and pushed inside her.

She sighed and shuddered, receiving the pounding that I selfishly delivered.

"Keep fucking me, dirty old man!" she cried as I thrust into her.

"You like my cock in your cunt, slut?"

She moaned again, relishing the role. As much as she was selfish with my pleasure, her display made up for it. I tossed out any pretext of control, and fucked her harder and faster until my orgasm overtook me. As the pressure built, I pulled out and enveloped my dick between her ass cheeks. My seed oozed out and filled her crack as I moaned a simple, "Fuck."

I held my position and caught my breath for a few seconds. Hani broke me out of the afterglow with the sudden declaration that she needed to shower.

The fact that she could turn on a dime like that was annoying.

"We'll shower when I say so," I ordered.

"I need to be ready for my cousin to pick me up, though."

"Fine." I gave in.

By this time, she was already back in her aloof mindset—she was satisfied, playtime was over. We showered. She got dressed and left.

That's what it's like to have a fuck buddy, I thought as she left. She didn't seem to care for affection, but often sought me out for company.

Looking back, it was a good demonstration of just how our relationship would play out. She came over again the next day, and even slept over, but had no desire for a repeat.

Over the next couple of weeks, we would message. She would tell me she wanted to come over, then not show up without a word.

She didn't care at the next club event that I had invited another girl who had quickly fallen for me. Hani even sent me off with a kiss, telling me to "go get some" as I left for the night.

During the day on New Year's Eve, I had a lot of preparations for a club party that night. Hani wanted a ride that night and I told her that I would have to get her early in the afternoon. She agreed and changed her plans to do all her preparations at my place.

I had come to understand how she worked and told her that she would have to be ready in half an hour, after I had finished an errand, or I would leave without her. I was pleased when she immediately came to my car when I called.

I found out then that she had started seeing someone, and needed to get some lingerie and new shoes before heading to my place. That revelation didn't bother me at all. I was still working out in my head how to explain her presence to my own date, who was coming to pick us up. Hani and I joked about the situation and I was floored when my date declared, "I like that you have friends like that." The two of them hit it off, and we all had a great night together.

Hani's casual dismissal didn't change, but neither did her affection for me. She blew me off a couple of times in the coming weeks. The next time we saw each other, she still seemed eager to get together. I, on the other hand, was skeptical.

"Hani, I am not going to make plans with you. If we see each other, great, but I won't waste my time otherwise," I told her.

"It's not just you. I do that to everyone," she tried to explain. She seemed disappointed that I would cast her off like that.

"You're not going to do that to me anymore, though. And, you never told me why you didn't show up last Sunday. Start 'splaining," I demanded.

"My boyfriend and I were breaking up. It was a lot of drama and I was trying to get away, but it didn't stop."

As excuses go, it was acceptable. I felt bad for her. That guy seemed to be someone she really liked.

"I'm sorry about that, hon. I'm sure I could've made you feel better, though," I teased.

"Yeah, I know how you'd like to make me feel better," she replied with a laugh.

It was a long time coming, but I felt like we had worked out just how we would continue as friends. Our affection for each other couldn't be denied and I just had to adopt a

zero fucks given

attitude to how we interacted.

You might get the idea that this was a dysfunctional relationship and there is truth to that. Despite the apparent disregard, there was an erotic tension and appreciation for each other. The detachment we shared allowed us to be ourselves, whether it was the best version of ourselves, or warts and all. We freely talked about our other partners and how "things were going". She had a way of engaging with my other girls that seemed to put them at ease with this beauty's presence in my life. I have no idea if they suspected Hani and I were something like fuck buddies. It never came up, maybe if only because it was inconceivable that she might have some sexual attraction to a man old enough to be her father. And here we were.

*

I turned to her to catch a glimmer of gold adorning her body. I stepped away from the counter and nudged her back to get a better view. A gold-colored, lace trimmed bra strained against her tits. The contrast with her skin was a work of natural art to me. My glance trailed down, and I was pleased to see matching panties and a garter belt holding up ivory stockings. She was showing that she paid attention to the sexy discussions we sometimes had. She finished off the outfit with the sparkly gold heels I had helped her pick out for her New Year's Eve outfit.