Room with a Secret

Jim never ceased to be surprised by Mr Crowfoot: not since he first met the man and discovered him, almost immediately, sexually involved with the visiting District Nurse. The old boy certainly retained that capacity, and it was just that sort of unexpected surprise which hit Jim one day as he let himself into his friend's house. Since looking after the house whilst Mr Crowfoot had been away, he had had a key and had been told not to 'stand on ceremony' and, rather than require the old man to come to the door, he was just to walk in. Certainly, he at least knocked on the study door and called, waiting for a 'come in,' rather than just barging in. Most people, perhaps nearly everyone, would have said 'wait a moment' or 'could you come back later' in the particular circumstances beyond the door, but not Mr Crowfoot.

From behind the door indeed came a cheery 'Come in, Jim' and he walked in on the man copulating with a rather generously proportioned and mature lady: Mr Crowfoot's rather scrawny buttocks rising and falling. There was a grin on the old man's face as he turned to the door. The two persons were upon the Chesterfield, one on top of the other, as is not unusual with copulation. Mr Crowfoot on top, of course. Piled nearby two sets of clothing.

Mr Crowfoot made to get up and, inevitably as Jim stepped into the room and closed the door, his eyes were drawn to the disconnecting sexual organs. Mr Crowfoot's penis hard and workmanlike, the woman very much 'spread.' Jim stared at the woman's sex, taking in fleshy lips, rather open sexual orifice and much hair. The lady closed her thighs and Jim's gaze moved to her substantial and rather floppy breasts before settling upon her face.

"Introduce yourself, Jim."

"Err, hallo... my name is..."

"No, Jim," said Mr Crowfoot tetchily, standing with his own penis up in the air, "introduce your cock... introduce it into Mrs Stamp. She likes a good fuck, she tells me."

"Who is this young man, Mr Crowfoot, has he a nice big cock too?"

"Show Mrs Stamp, Jim, show yourself."

It was so sudden. Jim had not expected the sudden sexual opportunity; nor had he thought of having sex with an older woman, well not as mature as Mrs Stamp appeared to be: yet here was Mr Crowfoot more than encouraging him - telling him to fuck her. Could he do it, could he copulate with a woman older than his mother?

He hesitated.

"Oh, go on, I like to see a nice young man in a suit - with his cock out!" It was not just Mr Crowfoot encouraging him.

It was not the physical side that was stopping Jim. The sight of Mrs Stamp's wet and fleshy 'pussy' had caused his cock to more than stir. It was indeed up.

Upon the table a cardboard tray with little pin badges; a tray to be worn around the neck. Mrs Stamp was clearly on a mission going door to door collecting for a charity - a flag day. It became instantly clear; Mrs Stamp was not an old friend of Mr Crowfoot's but rather she had made the mistake of coming to his door and he had inveigled her in.

"Jim..." Mr Crowfoot's voice was peremptory.

It was just not the sort of thing you did in company, yet both Mr Crowfoot and Mrs Stamp were anything but respectably dressed. Jim lowered his zip - was it with reluctance? He was not sure. He brought his hard knob and shaft out and took his hands away leaving himself sticking out of his suit fly for Mrs Stamp to 'admire'.

"Mmmm, your young friend has a nice stiff cock, Mr Crowfoot. Why don't you get back on me and let me suck?"

It was clear the old boy had enticed Mrs Stamp in, but he had seemingly unleashed a perhaps well-hidden and buried naughtiness - or pent up desire. The room was like that, it brought people - well, more precisely, women - out.

Jim watched Mr Crowfoot clamber aboard once more and obscured Mrs Stamp's impressively hairy and open sex.

"Come on, young man - Jim - bring that over here. Let me have a nibble."

It was just so unusual - to Jim - a middle-aged woman, complete with permed hair, looking so aroused, so lustful and licking her lipsticked lips in such a suggestive way. He stepped forward, presenting himself. The pleasurable feel of the tongue touching his knob; the sensation of being sucked between soft, supple lips; the warm, wet softness of a mouth - was just the same as if it had been Sophie, Jenny or Cynthia; or Kay or Ruth or Annette or Miss Redmond - or Sandy, actually, he supposed. With eyes closed he could not have told the difference - just technique might have given the game away (and, awfully, Sandy might very well have the best technique!). Mrs Stamp was enthusiastic - he certainly gave her that - maybe it was something she had been fantasising about; maybe Mr Stamp - was there a Mr Stamp - did not like to be sucked (unlikely); maybe it was the sucking of a young man - as he might fantasise about a schoolgirl - which made it especially good for her; maybe it was being fucked whilst sucking - surely that would be a woman's fantasy?

Mrs Stamp delved into Jim's fly, her fingers reaching in and under his cock to stroke his balls. Fingers just underneath and stroking, going back along his perineum and then back up to his nestled balls, as her mouth and tongue worked his cock. Down her body Mr Crowfoot was pleasantly busy, working his buttocks and making that copulatory movement, the sliding of penis within vagina, a feeling so pleasing to both parties.

"Oh, Mr Crowfoot, yes, almost!" Her mouth had come from Jim's cock. No doubt Mrs Stamp was a pillar of the community, but she looked very different now. Her eyes were sparkling and her tongue going in and out in a way no one outside her bedroom would ever expect to see. She was close - close to coming - Jim wondered if he should in some way help. Should he slip his hand between the two and bring his fingers to Mrs Stamp's clitoris and stroke? Seemingly there was no need, as Mrs Stamp went into a quite unladylike paroxysm and saying quite unladylike things as she grabbed Jim's cock and wanked it furiously, so much so that he had to step back or come.

He stepped back in time to see Mr Crowfoot shudder and shake. His friend reaching his peak once again. How many times had he done that - and quite a few on that Chesterfield. A high percentage no doubt!

There was a bit of quietness as the two mature persons lay together on the Chesterfield. With his suit, and his sticking out erect cock, Jim felt sort of like the butler attending on a wealthy married couple, paid to assist, not just in the running of the house, but in his employers' copulation; providing an extra cock. Not at all like a 'spare prick at a wedding,' perhaps age and long familiarity between the couple would very much justify an extra prick in the bedroom. And if an extra prick, why not an extra quim. Alas, though, there was just Jim as an extra. In the room there was no little chambermaid there to assist the couple. That sounded rather good. Not so much a foursome as an extra man and woman - boy and girl - to assist the couple. The couple's sexual pleasure the object. A young man and woman, not necessarily a couple as such, to watch copulating; a young man and woman to enjoy touching and licking; a young man and woman to fuck or be fucked by; a young man or woman to add an extra finger or hand where it was needed.

"Come, Jim, you really must now introduce yourself properly. Enjoy Mrs Stamp's body as I have, so delightfully generous. Introduce yourself into her.

Indeed, Mrs Stamp was like a Baroque painting, generous in a Rubenesque way. The artists often painting considerably younger women but their then fashionable ampleness of breasts and flesh were very much present in Mrs Stamp. Mr Crowfoot arose leaving the respectable lady - clearly she was very much that - looking debauched. Her thighs were again open and she looked at Jim with bright eyes and her tongue half out of her mouth. A woman wanting to be fucked some more - and, of course, when Jim lowered his gaze, he could very much see in the open invitation of her spread legs, that whilst she might well wish to be fucked, she had already been very well fucked!

Jim stared at Mrs Stamp's sex. A generous triangle of fair curls, thickening considerably at the divide, a strong growth too below, carrying on along each of her outer lips. Within the oval opening, thick inner lips were parted revealing her standing clitoral hood, long and fleshy, a shiny pink and smooth clitoris and, further on, the open entrance to her body - all glistening with a 'soup' of female wetness and male ejaculate. Mr Crowfoot had been very busy - no half measures from the old boy!

"Don't worry about condoms, Jim, Mrs Stamp is past all that."

"No more babies for me, I'm pleased to say!"

So, Mrs Stamp had been properly inseminated - presumably by Mr Stamp - and babies had come out as a result. Jim had not yet fucked a woman who had had children. Would it be different?

What was he doing? About to fuck a woman in her fifties and him barely into his twenties. What had Mr Crowfoot got him doing? Jim touched Mrs Stamp, his hands to the ample flesh - indeed rolls of flesh to her tummy. Mrs Stamp really was very 'rolly-polly.' Jim reached upwards to her breasts, large nipples in the palms of his hands, ample, rather floppy breasts clasped within his fingers. Breasts that had fed babies. Into his mind came thoughts of Kay and Ruth; they had had their babies - he had seen them out with prams - he must entice them into Mr Crowfoot's house again. Jim found the thought of drinking from his sometime classmates' breasts very pleasing, and was sure too that Mr Crowfoot would find the sustenance beneficial. Perhaps the girls might find Mr Crowfoot and his 'milk' beneficial as well. Certainly, Mr Crowfoot seemed generous with his - Jim could see quite a bit of it as he stood there!

Sexual desire is strong. Despite the woman's age, Jim's erection had not subsided. It and his sub-conscious had got the message - go fuck! Jim glanced at the expectant Mr Crowfoot.

Mrs Stamp levered herself up and her hands were on his belt, undoing it as he fondled her breasts, pulling at his trousers. She soon had them open and before he knew it, she had slipped pants and trousers down. "What a lovely young cock and balls! Come on, Jim, stick it in. Fuck me hard!"

There was nothing for it really. He could hardly run out of the study with his trousers around his ankles. Jim moved forward between Mrs Stamp's thighs, his knob all at once touching hot wet, slippery and very soft flesh and, again, before he knew it he was inside - enveloped. There was nothing tight about it - he wondered if he could get his balls in as well! Sharp nails digging into his buttocks as he was pulled hard into Mrs Stamp and he found himself at work, moving his hips and making the copulatory motion, his hardness very much to the front of Mrs Stamp's vagina, pulling and stimulating her clitoris. Had she been Sophie or Jenny or one of the other young girls he would have kissed her, but that seemed a step too far - fuck yes, French kiss - no!

The grip on his buttocks was tight, Mrs Stamp's long nails digging in as she controlled his speed, his hard cock sliding back and forth in its very generous sleeve. She was working him more than he was working her. It came to Jim that there was room for two - perhaps. Mr Crowfoot and he; or perhaps Mr Stamp and he; or, again, perhaps Mr Crowfoot and Mr Stamp could probably double up and pleasure Mrs Stamp together... whilst Jim was sucked, perhaps.

Jim turned his face to Mr Crowfoot who winked back at him. Jim shook his head in reply - meaning 'what have you got me into now!' The answer, of course, was into Mrs Stamp. A sexual bout indeed and poking loosely around inside Mrs Stamp's hot and variously wet tunnel there was no way a young cock was not going to come - but Mrs Stamp came too, a second time. Perhaps Mr Crowfoot had over excited her, used the mysterious power of the room to completely engage her arousal - but it might just as easily have been Mrs Stamp's own natural sexuality released.

Not just Mrs Stamp's sexuality released but the rush or her orgasm and with it Jim too released - released his youthful, potent and copious sperm in pleasurable bursts deep inside Mrs Stamp. It was not many times yet that Jim had ejaculated 'unclad' in a woman.

He was a little shocked at what he had done. He got to his feet and stood looking down at the woman. Mrs Stamp was positively glowing with sexual satiety, making no attempt to hide her wide-open sex. It had clearly been a first-rate experience for her. A shame she would remember nothing of it. Jim pulled his trousers and pants up feeling suddenly rather foolish.

It was a couple of days later and Jim was down the road at the little parade of shops that had been built down the road in the 1930s. As he came out of the newsagent's, he almost bumped into Mrs Stamp and her husband. She did not recognise Jim at all; no flash of recognition, no 'Mr Stamp, this is the young man I was telling you about with the lovely big cock.' Jim apologised for the near collision and heard Mrs Stamp say to her husband, as they went into the shop,

"What a nice polite young man, you don't find them much these days."

Mr Stamp seemed a normal sort of middle-aged bloke, balding and with a little clipped moustache. Perhaps he had been in the army, very probably conscripted in the War. Did he find his wife a bit of a 'handful' in the bedroom? Jim smiled to himself and shrugged his shoulders. If Mr Crowfoot managed to bring Mrs Stamp into his study again then Jim would not say no if asked to fuck again. Crikey, he had enough cum for as many women as Mr Crowfoot and he could get through the door!

Certainly, he had heard Mr Crowfoot seek to arrange another visit as Mrs Stamp had left to continue her flag day. If Mrs Stamp did reappear then he would ask her about Mr Stamp. It was rather fun being nosey about other people's sexual activities, predilections and peccadilloes

Jim had thought of the two former classmates at his school, Kay and Ruth; vividly recalled them both pregnant and naked in Mr Crowfoot's study and was delighted to meet them once again, almost outside Mr Crowfoot's door, as they headed homewards pushing prams. Jim had a way with women, gay men often have - not that he was gay, but he, nonetheless, seemed to have that easy ability to talk and say the right thing. He asked the right things about the babies in their prams and said the right things; the things young mothers like to hear. They were receptive to his offer of a cup of tea at Mr Crowfoot's house. Moreover, to Jim's delight, both said it was about time they fed the babies.

Mr Crowfoot was delighted. Mrs Stamp had pleased him very much, but all at once he had two young ladies wanting to come into his house. 'Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly.' It was somewhat like that with the old man. Rather discourteous to think of him as a spider sitting silently with his web, waiting to draw some tasty, succulent tit-bit into his web. Discourteous but somewhat accurate as an analogy. And what was Jim? Spiders do not have accomplices - and Jim was very much that.

Once again Jim was sent to make the tea. By the time he returned Mr Crowfoot had the two of young women seated in his parlour, his front room, sitting together and already nursing their babies who were making contented noises as babies do. Two happy babies feeding. Jim did not quite know where to look and felt embarrassed - which was a little stupid really, given he very much hoped to replace the babies later and, indeed, be sucking those very breasts which were hidden behind the little babies' heads.

Mr Crowfoot talked 'babies;' he seemed, whilst having had none of his own, to know a lot, and it was clear the girls were very happy with what he said - the old spider's charm once more!

Babies were moved from one breast to the other and tea was drunk by everyone else. The party proceeded in a very nice and normal fashion until the babies, now winded and fast asleep once more, were placed in their prams. It was wonderful then how Mr Crowfoot so easily shifted the conversation to gardens and insisted on showing Kay and Ruth his garden.

"There's a way down from my study," he explained.

But Jim very much doubted they would get as far as the door to the verandah and garden. He was, of course, quite correct. Mr Crowfoot led them all across the hallway and opened the polished and substantial door to the special room. He paused halfway across the room, it was doubtful the girls would get any further.

"I wonder," he said," turning to the young women, "I was wondering - it must be rather special feeding your babies but do you feed your husbands as well; perhaps, or probably, during sexual intercourse."

The young women's mouths hung open in surprise at the question. Yet they answered,

"Gerry likes... yeah, he couldn't wait to try!"

"I am not at all surprised. Kay. You liked?" The young woman nodded but Ruth shook her head. She seemed to have a different view.

"Pete wants to, but I don't... I don't like the idea. Not one bit. It's a bit difficult when you're on your back with your husband on top of you. But I tell him to leave them alone."

"Really?" Mr Crowfoot expressed surprise. "It must surely be rather lovely. I can see nursing your baby would be a very special - though I believe painful at first - but to be feeding your husband with your own milk - do you like to drink his?"

Ruth looked puzzled, "men's nipples don't... oh... ah... I see!"

Mr Crowfoot was nodding and smiling. "It is what wives do. I am sure the milk is good for them. Drinking from the men's, ah, big nipples!"

Kay giggled, "I'm sure Jim likes the big nipple!

"Don't you find yourself over full sometimes, Ruth?" Mr Crowfoot did, indeed, seem to know a lot about babies and young mothers. "Your left breast does look rather firmer than your right. Doesn't Pete help you with that?"

Ruth shook her head, "No, I express on my own."

"Surely easier to have Pete suck a bit or a lot. Show us your breasts, Ruth."

'Here we go!' Thought Jim; it was so good to stand and watch Ruth unbuttoning her blouse and then releasing the clips of her nursing brassiere. Bringing them out not for the maternal task of feeding her baby but for something rather different. He felt his penis swelling within his trousers, a nice sliding. It would be out in the open soon. The two breasts were larger than Jim remembered, the nipples even more so; the left was indeed the larger, the skin taut.

"Baby stopped feeding too soon," said Ruth, "it's uncomfortable, I do need to get home to..."

"Let Kay help you. Kay, be a good friend and help."

"I haven't got a bowl or..."

"No, Kay, not with your fingers, feed."

Kay's eyes widened as much as Ruth's but she did as she was bid. Jim had been at school with the two girls. Never had he imagined in his wildest dreams seeing Kay doing as she was told and bending her head towards Ruth. She had not been the best girl in class. Indeed, somewhat disobedient.

"Why don't you sit Ruth, here on the Chesterfield, and let Kay feed."

Lovely to watch the one girl lie across the lap of the other and reach up with her lips to Ruth's left breast. It was wonderfully erotic. Kay's lips there, the nipple and areola hidden in her mouth and Kay's cheeks hollowing. Jim looked at Mr Crowfoot.

"All in good time, Jim. All in good time."

"Close your eyes, Kay, you feel a lovely contentment but at the same time sexual arousal. You too, Ruth, it is good not just to have baby but adults feeding from you. I want you tonight to feed Pete; have him take all his clothes off and make him lie like Kay is doing and let him feed as much as he wishes. And if his cock goes hard, and I'm sure it will, you will stroke that with your hand as he feeds."