The House on Main Street

Every town has a Main Street, and for the most part the homes on each and every Main Street have either been untouched - or at least well-preserved -- since the day they were built. The house that I was about to photograph looked like it would be one of the latter. The long driveway and the big maples and oaks scattered across the property were all signs of an era long gone where a house actually came with some property. Hopefully whoever bought the house wasn't allowed to tear it down or make some horrible "modern" renovations to it.

I rang the doorbell and waited for the homeowner to answer. The front door had been painted too many times, and I could see where the previous paint job had flaked off and the next coat of paint had been slathered on in an attempt to cover up the missing chips. The real estate agent told me that she hadn't bothered to have the house properly staged as the old woman who lived here wasn't interested in having someone come through her house and tell her that everything she owned was ugly. I could totally understand that but a house full of stuff was usually more difficult to photograph.

The woman who answered the door must have been in her eighties. Her hair was pure white, and although her appearance exposed every bit of her age there was an elegance to her in the way she carried herself and the way she spoke.

"You must be the young man who has come to take the pictures," she said.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say I am young, ma'am, but yes, your real estate agent said you needed some photos taken."

"I have more than a few years on you so I think I can still call you 'young,' young man," she teased me.

My assessment of the house from the outside had been correct. While the home had been well-maintained throughout the years, it was definitely "original." The woodwork, the light fixtures, the carpets -- all looked to be in great condition but entirely out of step with any home décor magazine from the past four decades.

"I tidied up what I could, and didn't tidy up what I didn't feel like, so you just go about your business and get whatever pictures you can," she said as she waved her hand through the air. "What did that realtor of mine say about how she was going to list the house? 'As is'? I guess that's the polite way of saying 'The old lady wouldn't let me bring in someone to clean up the place.'"

I laughed at her frankness.

"I am sure I will be able to do your house justice, so don't you worry."

"That's all I want," she said as she turned and headed slowly upstairs. "I have turned on all of the lights for you. If you can do the basement and the main floor first then I will hide myself away in my bedroom until you need to come upstairs."

"Thank you," I said, and watched as she reached the top of the staircase and shuffled down the hallway to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I put my shoes in the hall closet and began to photograph the rooms in a way that would make sense for the slideshow later. The old woman had her fair share of trinkets but none of it was junky -- it was obvious that she had taste and the money to back it up, she just hadn't gone shopping in a really long time. I got the impression that in her prime she was the kind of woman who would have hosted the best parties on the block. Nowadays the new neighbours probably just thought of her as the old woman who had rooms full of old knickknacks -- the eccentric who never left her house.

It didn't take me long to shoot the first floor and the basement and as I headed up to the second floor I called out to let her know I was ready to come upstairs.

"You can go back to the living room now, if you like," I said, walking towards her bedroom.

As I opened the door I nearly fell over. The old woman was standing at the end of her bed and had her back to me. She was sorting through a huge pile of fur coats, boas, and very hairy mohair sweaters and blankets.

"That didn't take you very long," she said, not turning around. "I thought I was going to have more time to get my babies organized."

I tried to remain as composed as I could.

"Your babies?," I asked trying to keep my voice from cracking and giving away my surprise and thrill at seeing such a gorgeous mound of fur and fluff being tossed about.

"Oh, yes," she continued, "each one of these lovelies brings me such joy and pride." She slipped on a thick pink mohair cardigan and turned to face me. "This furry little beauty, for instance, has brought the paperboy to tears more times than I can count."

My face flushed and my jaw must have dropped open judging by the look on the old woman's face.

"Whatever is the matter?," she asked. "You don't think someone like me could make a young man cum?"

"I... uh... I didn't mean... no, that's not what I was thinking...."

She had walked over to the door and was staring up at me. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand and stroked it across the sleeve of her cardigan.

"Look at that halo, young man. You won't find that kind of fluffiness in any of these fast fashion stores, will you?"

The mohair was plush and extremely soft to the touch with just enough scratchiness to add another level to the sensation I felt across my palm and between my fingers.

"No, ma'am," I muttered, "you sure wouldn't."

"I swear that paperboy of mine intentionally miscalculates my bill every month so he can come back just so he can watch his little cock disappear into a sea of bouncing pink fluff."

She walked back to her bed and the mountain of fur and fuzz.

"Don't worry, though, I never let him cum on my baby, if that's what you're thinking. That is what mouths are for, isn't it?"

By this point I had a hard on like no other I had ever had.

"Put your tripod down and help me hang up my darlings in the closet so you can get back to taking your pictures. I wouldn't want to hold you up."

Stunned I walked over to the old woman and just stood beside her waiting for her instructions.

She pulled out an alpaca jacket and a platinum fox fur stole and shoved them into my arms.

"You can put these at the back of the closet on the left. The stole can go over the centre of the hanger and the jacket can go over top of it," she said. "Just make sure to smooth out the stole before you put the jacket on the hanger. I don't want any kinks in the lining."

I walked sheepishly into the closet, pulled one of the furrier hangers off the rod and draped the fox fur as I was told.

"Smooth it out," she chided me, "let me see you stroke it flat before you put the alpaca over it."

I turned around to show her that I was complying with her demands only to see that she had taken off the mohair sweater and had put on a massive full length crystal fox coat.

"Go on," she insisted, "hold it up to your chest and rub it down on that side... good... now turn it around and do the same on the other side." She stared into my eyes the whole time, and didn't even look at the fur in my arms.

"I think I see a bump about halfway down that side. Stroke downwards again, now rub your hand up the length of the stole again... go on, get those hairs to stands straight up... okay, now smooth them out again."

If I had been alone in that closet I would have dropped my pants and started jerking myself off right then and there, and the way the old woman was looking at me let me know that she knew exactly what I wanted to do.

"Now the alpaca," she said. "Shake the hanger and make sure it's hanging properly. Now put it on the rod and flatten the sleeves. I want all of my honeys to look their best by the time you are done."

I did as she asked and turned to go back for more orders when she held up her hand. I stopped and looked down at the floor where she was pointing.

"Bring that before you come out."

I was amazed I hadn't seen the saddle-style vibrator when I first went into the closet, but there it was complete with the clitoral and vaginal attachments. It wasn't as heavy as I thought and I picked it up and brought it where the old woman was standing.

"Put it over by that chair, would you?," she asked, touching my cheek with the cuff of the crystal fox fur. "Nope," she said, "the other way so I can sit on it facing the chair. You may as well put this lube on it and plug it in while you're down there, too."

When I had finished setting up the machine as she wished, I stood up and saw that she had put on an oversized pillbox style hat that matched her fur coat. She smiled slyly at me for a few moments and then moved over to me and slid her hand in the waist of my pants.

"Are you really going to make me ask you to undress?," she asked, cocking her head slightly as she winked at me.

"But... I...." I had no idea what to say.

"If you really didn't want me to do what I am going to do to you then you would have left a long time ago, don't you think?"

She was right but I was still hesitating.

"Look," she said with an alluring gentleness in her voice as she slowly unbuckled my belt, "if it makes you feel any better I have been seducing people for decades. Once you walked through my front door you really had no chance for escape, truth be told."

I tried to resist again.

"But...."

"But what?," she said. "I'm old? Is that what you're thinking?" She had slipped my pants down past my knees and began stroking the outside of my thighs with the thick sleeves of her coat, lifting up my boxers a little bit with each caress.

"When you are cumming in my mouth," she cooed, "and, yes, you WILL be cumming in my mouth in a little while, do you really think that your penis is going to care how grey my hair is or how wrinkly my skin is or how old I am or is it just going to care that my lips are locked around your quivering cock as you squirt your warm honey across my wiggling tongue and down my throat?"

I gasped as she pulled down my underwear and put her right hand behind my shaft and began dragging the left sleeve of her crystal fox across my penis.

"I...."

She interrupted me before I could finish.

"I know," she said, "but you and I both know that you don't believe you are actually trying to stop me so get your clothes off and pick one of the furs from the bed and drape it across the chair. You should have as much fur rubbing against you as possible, don't you think?"

I tossed my clothes in a pile by the window and grabbed the full length silver fox from the bed and fitted it over the chair. She slipped off her skirt and panties and threw them beside my clothes.

"Good choice," the old woman said as she pushed me into the chair, the thick lapel of the silver fox flopped over my head and snuggled around my ears filling the air with a faint whiff of blunted Chanel No. 5 perfume, "those stunning full pelts are going to feel so nice in your hands as you try to keep from cumming too quickly. I doubt you will be able to hold on for too long, though," she said as she straddled the vibrator and flicked the ON switch before she handed me the controller and settled her pelvis over the slippery attachments.

The old woman rocked back and forth across the heads for a few moments, biting her lip gently as she savoured the humming coming from between her legs. Without opening her eyes she spoke.

"You do know how to work this thing, don't you? Sometimes I welcome a little fly into my spider web and just feast on it but today I feel like getting a little tangled up in the web, if you catch my drift, and I would hope that you could at least know how to turn a dial or two."

I stared at the top of her fur-covered head while she pushed her hips down onto the dildo and gripped the machine firmly in her thighs.

"Yes," I replied, turning the controller one click up to prove my worth.

"Oooh, I think this is going to work out very well for the both of us," she said, creeping her hands up the back of the silver fox fur between my legs and gripping my penis, spreading my precum over my foreskin and around the back of my glans, massaging the slick liquor with both her thumbs, "but keep in mind that if you cum first then I will keep sucking on you until you make me orgasm, and you need to trust me when I say it will be EXCRUTIATING for you. I have done it before and there will be no prying me off of you until I am satisfied."

I almost thought for a second that there was no truth in what she was threatening me with but when I considered where I was - in the bedroom of some old woman I had just met not even an hour ago, naked, with my cock in her hands, and every fibre in my body eagerly and impatiently waiting for her to give me what I felt in my heart-of-hearts was going to be the most amazing blowjob I had ever received -- I knew she meant every word, and I knew that I had better do my damnedest to make her cum and make her enjoy every second of her orgasm before I allowed myself to start twitching in her mouth.

"You should know that this is exactly how my real estate agent found herself before I agreed to sign the listing agreement -- in that very same chair, nestled in the same silver fox coat you chose, the only difference was that I tied her ankles together with a couple of mohair scarves and threw her legs over my shoulders. I probably could have made her cum just with my fingers and the softness of my crystal fox lovely tickling the backs of her knees -- oh, how she loved being tickled in those soft, smooth little pockets behind her knees - but I did promise her that I was going to taste her and swallow her up, and as you can see I am a woman who keeps her word."

As she spoke the old woman grabbed her left cuff again and nudged it carefully and methodically into my balls, lifting them up with the fur, and pressing the thick hairs into the leading edge of my ass, once, twice, over and over again as her right hand encircled the head of my cock and smeared my precum up and down its length.

"And that woman really knew how to enjoy an orgasm, let me tell you."

The old woman was looking right into my eyes as she jerked me off. Her hand, her strokes were methodical and knew exactly where and when to apply just the right amount of pressure -- my penis became more and more engorged as she expertly bathed my foreskin in the glistening stream pouring my its tip.

"I think you need to turn up the dial a couple more notches in order to catch me up because, young man," she said, nodding her thick fur hat down at my crotch, "it feels like you already have too much of a head start on me."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, and did as she suggested.

And with that the old woman winked at me, popped out her dentures and dropped her head into my lap before I could react.

The feeling of her mouth around my penis was incredible and such a shock that my fingers flexed up and my arms shot forward on the fox-covered arms of the chair. If she had given me any reason to believe that she was going to be gentle with me and help make me last inside her mouth then those beliefs disappeared as soon as she wrapped her lips around my cock. The suction she created, and the strength of her gums as she dragged her mouth up and down the length of my penis wasn't the tender fellatio of someone who wanted me to relish in her oral prowess and drive me to a slow and peaceful climax. Instead the old woman seemed bent on fucking me with her mouth -- the kind of oral violation that was meant to bring out an explosion of cum, to leave me screaming and ejaculating in something that was the other side of ecstasy as I held onto her furry, bobbing head and begged my body to keep shooting ribbons and ribbons of cum down her throat.

At first I tried to grab her shoulders and push her away so I could get some reprieve from the inevitable but all I found was the bulk of her crystal fox fur shoulders -- the soft fur folding over onto itself in my hands, cool and thick, yielding and supple caramel hairs that squished easily between my fingers as I searched in vain for her wiry frame that I was sure was buried somewhere inside the thick fur. I turned up dial on the sex machine she was straddling in order to gain some advantage but even though I could hear a low moan come from underneath the mass of fur plunging incessantly into my crotch the old woman didn't slow down or ease her onslaught.

As much as I wanted to speak, to tell her to slow down, I wasn't able to find the words. The grunts and whimpers that came from deep within my chest in response to the fleshy squeezing and tugging of my cock were the only sounds I could make. At some level I wasn't really sure I wanted to form the words "Stop!" or "Please slow down!" -- my instinct was to grip and paw aimlessly at the silver fox fur that now seemed to be flopping over me as my body was gently tossed about in the chair and give into the release (and the potential consequences) that my orgasm would give me; to cum and have her punish me by sucking on me until the ache in my shaft became so unbearable that I would find myself caught between trying to escape her lips and the almost crush of her toothless gums and wishing that she would fuck me harder and harder with her unrelenting mouth.

The old woman's fervent sucking had left my mind blank and totally at her mercy, so much so that I was completely unaware that I had cranked up the vibrator she was straddling to its strongest setting. The humming coming from between the old woman's legs was quite strong, and from the intermittent change in the tone I could tell that she was squeezing the attachments and the sides of the machine and signalling her impending orgasm. It was then that I could feel her mouth finally grant me some clemency and slow down her overwhelming oral enticements, like she had been waiting for me to turn up the dials on the controller all the way so that I could force her orgasm from her as fast as she was trying to force mine from me.

She came. She moaned with such joy and enthusiasm, and instantly her tongue and mouth became like the most caring lover I could have ever dreamed of -- she sucked on me like she was slowly feeding on me, like the only way for her to survive was to lick my cock in one slow, endless motion. As her orgasm subsided she grabbed the silver fox fur and gradually and deliberately pulled it and me off the chair and onto the floor, surprising me with the how easily it was for a seemingly frail old woman could move me around, the full weight of her head and the crystal fox fur settling over my pelvis as she slid off the sex machine and lay on the floor, never once losing contact with or breaking the seal her mouth had around my penis. But the force of her vigorous fellatio had definitely taken its toll on me and I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out.

Before I could mentally bolster my stamina, the old woman pulled a huge Mongolian lamb fur coat from underneath her bed and dragged it onto my stomach and chest. Instantly I gathered it up in my arms and began fondling the pelts and burying my fingers in the curly fur as she settled into a steady rhythm, half-swallowing me at the end of each stroke. My legs tensed up as the first sigh of my orgasm grew behind my balls.

The old woman must have sensed the sudden change and immediately lifted her head up a few inches and gripped my penis with her bare gums, squeezing it tightly in her mouth and bobbing her head in short dips, focusing all her efforts on my frenulum and the inch or so below it. Her gums were smooth and firm and ruthless and I couldn't hold on any longer and I finally had no choice but to let my orgasm overtake me. The old woman's tongue quickly caught and wiped away each creamy shudder my cock gave her, and without slowing down she was able to swallow my cum and even managed what sounded like an "mmm" after each twitch, each noise different in pitch as if she was finding new enjoyment in each subsequent quarter-teaspoon that fluttered past then tip of my penis. She began to vary the speed of her nodding and dipping into my crotch -- slow as she dropped her mouth down my shaft, fast as she pulled up, again and again and again.