In that position at the age I put her wouldn't have been very comfortable, but did I care? But she seemed strong enough to attract attention after I left, as I planned to remove the gag. This made her labia peel open and I gazed at the huge, greasy cavern I had just plundered, leaving treasure. Some of it was already dribbling out of her snatch. I wormed backwards a little and dipped my face into the exposed genitalia and lapped at her greasy old quim, tasting her piss, her sweat and my cum, a sumptuously rich feast. Levering my torso upwards, I let my flaccid but still heavily swinging cock play across her gash, tensing it while it still leaked the odd drop of cum onto her sex. She was not of of breeding age, looking well in her sixties. She certainly had no fight in her, which was helpful.
I let her legs flop down and lifted her upper torso, feeling for the zipper of the dress. It slid down and I found her bra clips and undid them. I let her slump back on to the earth and pulled the dress as loose as possible considering her arms were still through it and tied. This revealed a rather plain and saggy white brassiere, which as I had guessed, didn't seem to be filled all that well. Pulling it away off her tits, they were indeed a miserable long pair of saggies, almost flat in the way they had slid to her sides as if trying to hide their shame in her armpits. However her nipples were something else and made up for the sorry pale, blue veined specimens they were mounted on.
She had quite wide areolae, only slightly darker than her breast flesh, pocked with a myriad of minor bobbles and lumps, but in the middle sprouted a sort of conical area, that was maybe a centimetre high and same round at its base, tapering up to about half a centimetre. I love the variation in teats and these were gorgeous. Flicking them amused me, as they seemed to harden; no matter what a women's thoughts are, their body often gives them away and as it was a very warm day and yes her mammaries were out in the fresh air, I reckoned she was excited if not thrilled to be where she was.
I was totally relaxed about my work. She was passive, there had been no other vehicles as I would have heard them on the gravel and I had just complete a successful and unusual rape. I was amazed how calm and cool I was, considering the evil situation I had created. I shuffled up alongside her head and moved the blindfold. Her squinting poor vision eyes, minus her spectacles, which must have been somewhere in the undergrowth, were cold but not scared as I lowered my cock over them, making her blink and shut them tightly, smearing her with the drops and trails of our combined smeg. I exposed her nose and rubbed my greasy knob round it, making her smell our sex. Loosening the gag took some thought, but as I did so, I grabbed her jaw and deformed her mouth into a sort of pursed lips expression, than I dragged my cock over her lips and into the hole between. I didn't dare to let her mouth free, expecting a scream or a vicious bite, but I was happy with my evil lot making her taste us and thinking about an exit from the scene.
I removed her dress, which tore having snagged a thorn and her brassiere. I tore the dress into two strips, carefully I placed the remains next to her shoes, wanting to collect everything before I left. I tied one strip of the shiny purple material to a small tree and round her right ankle. Then I spread her legs wide to tie the other ankle to the root of a healthy shrub. Her hands were still tied above her head. I stood over her and gazed at the flabby whiteness of her aged body, wondering why she was here, apart from the piss, in the first place. "It's your problem madam," I murmured, aiming my stream of piss on her, covering the whole of her supine situation. I made sure I soaked her slack old cunt with the hot flow and made her eyes squint with the pressure and the acid content as I finished my ablutions at her face.
Adjusting my clothing, I collected the discarded stuff, spotted her spectacles and ground them into the soil, broken and splintered with the heel of my boot, removed the gag and slid easily to the edge of the shrubs and checked outside. There was shrieking behind me. The Volvo and the van were still exactly as I had left them. Where else would they fucking be? I chuckled to myself as I saw that there were no other vehicles around, this late Friday afternoon. Bunging the stuff in the van, I approached the car finding and taking the woman's handbag. I took the old man's wallet and also a large, soft travel bag from the boot. I left a dress and a suit hanging under plastic shrouds, against the rear windows. I double checked everything, leaving the car keys in the ignition. I made a cursory wipe of everything I could remember I had touched, although there was no previous record of me in DNA or fingerprints, but it would help to deflect the pigs for a while.
I sat in the van and rifled through her handbag, finding an ornate card which was a wedding invitation, the occasion was tomorrow about fifty miles west and they were off the obvious route really. Maybe they were arguing about being lost, there was no map or sat nav in the old motor, maybe they were arguing about stopping to let her empty her obviously overloaded bladder, who knows? I thought as I drove away. The old boy's heart attack I surmised was rustled up by stress, if that's what he had died from.
Back at home, I emptied the travel bag and found a plastic bag with one pair of large, pale blue, cotton, dirty knickers, which smelled powerful. There was more clean stuff. Madam Rousset aged sixty one, I saw from her passport was a 38B cup bra size and of course the bag included the man's clothing. I pondered my activities, sipping a large G&T before I went to the pub for a meal, where I made plans. In bed later, I had a great wank, smelling her dirty knickers from the bag and the ones I had taken from her. Even her tights had the unmistakeable scent of a woman's crotch. I went over the incident in my mind before nodding off to sleep - unworried.
What I had done had been out of character and I quizzed myself about it - but without too much stress. Shit happens and she got it. The following day I drove fifty miles and found the church where the foreign couple were aiming for. I wondered if they had been missed at a pre wedding party last night. There was a very large crowd milling about and I was as smartly dressed as most of the men, it wasn't a penguin suited job, just smart casual, but they looked rough end of town types, even pikeys maybe but only a few of them. But the women were something else. Bunch of tarts really; orange faces, incredibly short skirts, lots of thick thighs, not much material on top trying to cover some spectacular racks, bare rippling midriffs, daft hats, bare legs and impossibly high heels. It was a beautiful sight in lusting voyeur terms.
