The Old(er) Ones Are the Best

'What's an "apeth?'

It's still quite early on Saturday morning and I'm sitting in the garden with a coffee. I'd been wondering how Jen had got on with prick and sanctimonious when my phone had pinged with the question. 'What's an "apeth?'

What a great way to start a conversation.

'Apeth - half-penny. It's old Yorkshire slang: "you daft apeth - you daft half-penny." It used to be a bit of a derogatory term - you're not worth much - but these days it's very much a term of endearment.'

She replied with a smiley emoji.

I couldn't stop myself. 'How'd you get on last night?'

'Grrrrr! What are you doing?'

'Sitting in the garden having coffee.'

'You're doing it tough aren't you.' There was a pause, then. 'Can I come up?'

'Of course you can. Coffee or tea?'

':-), tea please. On my way.'

Ten minutes later she appeared. White tee-shirt, above the knee denim skirt and white flat slip-on shoes.

'You're looking very summery.' I said.

She sat down opposite me. 'Well it's a lovely morning and I'm not planning on doing much so I dressed accordingly. Been a hard couple of days so I think I deserve a rest. So do you.'

I grinned. 'Thank you. I shall have one then.'

'Good.' She sipped her tea and we sat in silence for a few minutes, but it was never going to last. She glanced at the house. 'Are you going to show me around then?'

I smiled, curiosity had gotten the better of her. 'Sure thing, although it's not that big and you've already seen half of it.'

We spent a few minutes downstairs and she commented on the range, the low ceilings, small windows, stone floors etc etc. I knew it wasn't her style but that was fine, I loved it and it was mine.

It's when we get upstairs that her eyebrows lift.

'Oh my goodness, a four poster bed!' She's truly surprised. 'It's huge, how did you get that in here.'

'I didn't, it's been here for years, long before I bought the place. Its size is probably why it's still here: it'd be a mammoth task to get it out. Anyway, I like it so it's staying, while I'm here anyway.' I considered throwing her on it but got the feeling that she wasn't in the mood and quite honestly, neither was I.

We ended up back outside and after a turn around the garden: a fraction the size of hers, she said, 'Fancy a walk?'

'Always.'

'Great, just need to change my shoes.'

I waited outside her garden gate whilst she changed, then we set off.

It was twenty minutes of random paths and turns but heading in the general direction of somewhere I wanted to show her, when I again asked the question. 'So......how was last night?'

'Hmmm. Not very good, no other way of describing it other than strained. They obviously noticed our work and he came straight out and asked if I was selling the place. Cheeky bastard! I told him that I was doing the exact opposite, that I was getting the place how I wanted it and that it was my forever home. He sure didn't like that.' She stopped talking and stared at the ground.

I'd spoiled her mood, 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, it's not my business.'

'No, it's fine. I need to talk about this stuff. Trouble is that when we - the girls - talk about it, most of us have husband woes and it all gets very angry and vitriolic, you never end up saying much as it just bounces around with everyone getting talked over. We always laugh at the end, we're the best of friends, but it just leaves things unsaid. It's good to be able to talk with someone who just listens.' She stopped again and took a breath. 'I'd honestly like to get those two out of my life, actually never see them again.' Another pause, then she said, 'He says he wants to hold a memorial service. Can you believe it?! A memorial to what? A golf club well served? A whiskey bottle well emptied? For fucks sake!'

I laughed. I couldn't help it.

Jen stopped walking and looked at me, frowning. Then started laughing.

A couple of minutes and we started to compose ourselves.

'I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh.' I said.

'No, you should. Thank you, for laughing. And I'm the one who's sorry, I was starting to rant.' She wiped tears from her cheeks. 'Ooh I needed that.' She was still looking at me. Then she looked around. 'Sod the walk, I want sex.'

That made me blink. Then think. It wasn't far. I grabbed her hand and set off. 'This way.'

Not far at all.

I'd stumbled upon "it" purely by chance two or three years ago and it had become one of my favourite places. A small clearing, created when an old tree had fallen taking another with it. I can only imagine that a passing woodsman had then tidied it up and had decided that the fallen trunk would make a nice seat. A few strokes of a chainsaw and, on the edge of the new clearing, the seat was formed. Nature had created this lovely grassy glade and humans had carved the perfect place from which to view it.

But the shoots of young trees were already pushing through and, in not too many years, people will stumble upon this random seat in the middle of dense trees and wonder why. So the time to enjoy it is now.

And every time I pass I do just that.

Today I take Jen with me: it was where I'd been heading.

Entering the sun dappled circle I feel pressure on my hand. I turn to her. She's looking around, mesmerised.

'Oh my goodness! This is gorgeous.'

I stepped up against her, put my hands on her waist. 'And so private.'

She blinked, leaning back. 'Surely not.' Giggled. 'Really?'

'Really.' I slide my hands behind her back, down onto her bum and lift her onto my hips.

Slowly, supporting her against me, I lower myself to my knees then ease her onto her back in the centre of the circle of lush green grass.

And press the hard bulge of my cock against her.

'Mmmmm,' she breathes, 'definitely want that.' Wraps her arms around my head, forces her tongue into my mouth and pushes back against me.

I meet her halfway; my tongue dancing with hers, my groin rubbing and grinding between her thighs.

Until I feel her start to lose control and her attempts to follow my movements begin to falter. She moans in frustration then throws her legs up and locks her ankles behind my back. It's too awkward, her movements too frantic, I can't keep up with her.

Pressing her to the ground I use my weight to pin her down.

She gasps for breath then kisses me again: a forceful, lip crushing, teeth clashing kiss.

Her wiry strength begins to show, she's chasing an orgasm, clinging to me but still managing to rock her hips, to keep rubbing against me. I don't try and stop her, don't move, just keep myself pressed against her, let her take what she wants.

She's nearly there.

Her lips slide off, her cheek presses hard against mine, panting breath in my ear, her arms like steel around my neck, our groins grinding painfully together.

She stops breathing, her bum squeezes, heels push down, thighs trembling.

And that's how she stays, seconds stretching on. Until I'm beginning to wonder if something is wrong.

Then she softly lets out her breath and, arms and legs sliding off me, seems to melt to the ground.

I roll off to land at her side and, looking up through the swaying tree canopy, listen to her gentle breathing.

Now I'm thinking that she's fallen asleep.

Until she shuffles up onto one elbow and peers down at me.

I look up at her and realise that she's not looking at my face, but rather down at the slowly subsiding lump in my trousers.

I grin at her as her eyes flick up.

'What are you grinning at?' She asks.

'Huhh, I know what you're thinking.'

'Do you now. In which case I wouldn't want to disabuse you.'

She reaches out and rubs her hand across the shrinking bulge.

Which immediately reverses any evidence of shrinkage.

'Mmmm.' She turns around, unfastens my trousers and pushes them and my boxers down off my hips.

Cradling my balls in one hand and wrapping the other around my rapidly thickening shaft, she mutters, 'Now there's my boy.'

'You've got a bit of a thing about this haven't you.'

I feel her warm breath on me as she replies, 'Mmmhmm, noticed have you?'

'Oh yes.' I gasp as her mouth smothers me.

In pure indulgence.

She really is very good at doing the thing.

Her movements are slower, smoother, more sensual than last time. Lots of long deep slides, lots of massaging and stroking, lots of time spent around the sensitive head.

Oh she's very, very good.

She keeps her hands and mouth soft and gentle, her head bobbing and sliding as she constantly sucks, chews and licks.

While I just lie there and, through half closed eyes, watch the swaying leaves against blue sky, luxuriating in the radiating waves of heat as she does her thing.

Until, eventually, as spine tingling as it is, I decide I want to do more than just lie there luxuriating.

I reach over and pull her towards me. She gets the idea and, without pausing at the opposite end, lifts her leg and shuffles over until she's straddling my face.

Mmmm, what a delicious sight.

The fabric of her plain white knickers is stretched tight and soaked with her juices: the shape of her pussy outlined through the gusset, her bum clearly visible through the wet material.

There's no way I can get them off her bum so I resort to slightly second best.

I press my tongue into the top of the outline and lick down its length.

Now she stops. With my cock buried deep in her mouth. Doesn't move a muscle.

I do it again.

Then clamp my open mouth over her and suck.

Lap her in, taste her through her knickers.

Slightly sweet, faintly salty. Quite pleasant.

Keep sucking and licking, spiralling up and down, following her soft squidgy lips, digging in as far as I can, all the way from her clit to her perineum and back again.

And still she hasn't moved, still has my cock buried in her mouth.

She starts sucking again.

With me still buried to the root and her tongue pressing me to the roof of her mouth I can feel the suction along my entire length, all at the same time. Incredible.

But now I'm in danger of losing it in a big way, a very big way.

I shift my mouth, push against the taut wet fabric and stab my tongue against the ring of her anus. That makes her stop.

I keep pushing against her, licking and squiggling around and around: I can't get far; her knickers make sure of that, but the slight roughness of the fabric against the sensitive ring of muscle has got to be helping.

But it also makes it hard work: so my tongue tires quickly and I find myself having to back off.

To sucking and chewing on the tender ring of muscle. But even that becomes too much so I shift my focus again.

Dragging my teeth, tongue and lips I slide along the length of her pussy until my chin rubs over the bump of her mons and I wrap my lips over her clit.

Her breath hisses as she lifts her mouth off me and drops her forehead onto my thigh.

I try to renew my efforts, start sucking and nibbling her again, flicking my tongue and rubbing the hard lump of my chin across her.

She tries to give something back; her own tongue licking along the underside of my cock but she only gets halfway when a faint shudder flicks through her bum and she groans and stops again.

And then she clearly feels the beginnings of something and decides to help herself.

She pushes herself up to arms length and presses herself against me. Starts a little rub up and down: her pussy along my mouth, her clit across my chin. Gently at first: short, precise little movements but, as that something gets nearer, the self control begins to slip and her body's needs take over, her hips begin to roll and press harder across my face.

But she's having real trouble controlling her movements: she keeps losing her way; one minute she's rolling backwards and forwards, the next she sort of judders to a stop, her body pressing her soaked knickers hard against my face.

Until she can't take it anymore. She growls, squirms and squeezes over me, her arse rubbing in circles over my much abused face, then there's a deep groan and she takes a deep breath through her nose and shivers. 'Mmmmm.' does her big stretch and slumps off me onto the ground by my side.

I stretch my jaw and start to sit up.

'Aha, don't you dare move.' She says and sits up, looks at my still rampant cock, 'I'm definitely not leaving that like that.' She staggers to her feet and, giving me a very startling view of her bum and pussy in the process, takes her knickers off and flicks them over her shoulder. Then gets back down onto her knees, only now she's facing me and hovering over my hips.

'You know you really shouldn't throw litter.'

She takes hold of my rock hard cock and points it right between the puffy red lips of her pussy. 'Shut up.' She murmurs, eases herself onto my shaft and, in a slow slide, settles down onto my hips. 'Ooooopphh, can't beat a good neighbour.'

'Maybe next time.' l groaned.

'Ooh yes, now there's a thought. But this time I think I'll just......' And pushes herself up until only the very last fraction of me is left inside, then, with a deep groan, lets herself drop back down. 'Oohhhh, yesss.'

And that was it, for the next I don't know how long, on the ground in the green grass of the shady clearing, with her hands on my stomach and her eyes closed, she slides slowly up and down the slippery, steel shaft of my cock.

With me watching her face and meeting her in the middle of each slide with a little clench of my bum and a short lift of my hips.

But, bit by bit, Jen's slow rise and fall begins to get faster and faster. there's a gradual quickening of her breathing until she suddenly shivers to a stop and a gentle spasm flickers through her.

She lets it pass, seems to gather herself, then, almost tentatively, starts to slide backwards and forwards on my wet hips.

But the end is too close, the temptation too much.

Her pace quickens, her fingers press into my flesh, breathing gets faster and faster. 'Oooooo, oh yes, keep going, keep going, nnnngggrrrrrr.' And, in one last rush, she growls into an orgasm that has her stuttering to a stop and squeezing herself around me, her fingernails digging deep.

Until she licks her lips and takes a long deep breath that's pushed out through pursed lips. Her body slowly softens and relaxes, with me still embedded deep inside her.

I give her a minute then start a slow push up into her: I'm close and I don't want to lose the feeling.

She looks down with a dreamy smile then drops forward, elbows either side of my head, bum in the air, warm breath in my face. 'Come on then, give it to me.' And that's all I need to hear. I quickly build to long strokes: as long as I can make them, until my hips are smacking against her time and again, ramming my burning cock deep into her liquid pussy. My turn now.

And almost instantly I feel it building: the heat, the tingling, the tightness.

Faster and faster, thighs aching, bum cramping, losing my rhythm.

Smack hard up against her. 'Uurrrghhh.' One big pulse: like a plug released, then another, close my eyes and give her the rest, then, after the last one has gone, a deep breath. 'Yeew, nice.'

I open my eyes to find hers flicking across my face as she watches me. She grins and gives me a quick kiss then pushes herself upright before slipping off and climbing to her feet.

She looked around. 'Think I like this place. What did you do with my knickers?'

'What did I do with them? I didn't touch them......'

'Hmmm.' She turned a full circle. 'Ah, there.' Took a couple of steps and picked them up from the edge of the grass. 'Urr, yuk!' She's holding them between her finger and thumb: they're a sodden mess, covered in dead leaves and soil. 'Maybe you can carry them?'

I look at them hanging from her fingers. 'Maybe I can't.'

She pouts. 'Thought you were a gentleman.'

'As far as I remember it was a cape over a puddle not filthy knickers through the woods.'

She set off walking with a bare bum and the offending article still hanging from her fingers. 'Do you think she wore filthy knickers?'

Still sorting out my clothes I follow her. 'If she did I doubt they were that small. Give them here.'

She looked at me and handed them over. They weren't that bad and a quick shake removed most of the debris, I stuffed them into my back pocket.

'What are you grinning at now?' She asked.

'You walking through the woods with no knickers on. How many times have you done that?'

She chuckled. 'None......actually feels quite pleasant......liberating. Maybe I should do it more often.'

'Let me know when you do.'

'Oh I think I'll let you work it out for yourself.'

'Mmm, I think I might enjoy that.'

Later, standing back at her garden gate, she holds out her hand. 'Knickers please.'

'You want them back? I was going to keep them, for posterity's sake.'

'Well you can't, they're my lucky knickers.'

'Lucky knickers, you have lucky knickers?'

'I do now.' She flicks her fingers. 'Knickers.'

l pull them out of my pocket and, chuckling, pass them to her. 'I'd like to introduce you to someone.'

'Oh. Who?' She's surprised at my words.

'A friend of mine......sort of.'

She looked nervous. 'Sort of? Will I like him?'

'Didn't say it was a him but I think so, I wouldn't ask him if I didn't think so.'

'What did he say?'

'I haven't asked him yet. What do you think?'

'Oh, ok. Err, what do you think?' She's still nervous.

I'm not entirely sure myself. But I'd kind of said I'd help her find a lover and I was struggling.

I'm not particularly big on friends, especially male friends. Another one of my failings in the relationship field is my inability to keep in touch: there's hardly a person in my life that I've got to know that I've kept in touch with. Which means that, in the matter of finding Jen another lover, I don't have any like minded male friends to call upon.

Except, perhaps, one. And I couldn't really call him a friend, more of an acquaintance.

He's the youngest of a family I'd done some work for some time ago. They're an interesting family with a sad history. Six of them in all; the mother, who'd taken me on, her mother, three daughters and a son, all living in the same large house.

They're Iranian, had all been born there and, with their smooth olive skinned features, black hair and almond shaped eyes, they are all, including the son, extremely good looking.

The sad history is that the grandfather and father had died: they wouldn't say of what but it had clearly been traumatic. With the two adult men in the family now gone it had become quite difficult for them so they had decided to leave and, after a two year journey, had arrived in England. That had to have been thirteen years before I'd first met them and I'd spent two years doing various maintenance type jobs for them: it had been interesting, amusing and a little eye opening.

There was the usual banter and bickering of families in a, for me, confusing mix of English and Farsi.

The girls were girls with their boyfriends and social media troubles.

But Ajmal, the son, seemed to cause the most consternation. He was the youngest of them all: seventeen when I first started with them and had the same smooth, feminine features as the girls and, to be honest, when I'd first seen him I'd thought he was another sister, it wasn't until we were introduced that I'd realised my mistake. He also had a thing for wearing black eyeliner: I was never sure if he actually liked wearing it or if it was just to wind his seniors and sisters up.

The sisters used to gang up on him and he loved to bait them. His mother seemed to be in endless frustration with him: with his trail of girlfriends, the regular baiting of his sisters and his general cheekiness, but his grandmother loved him to distraction: she could never stay angry with him for long: all he had to do was give her a hug, whisper something in her ear and all was well.