Up the Stairs

"Excuse me. I'm looking for number nineteen. Is this it? Someone seems to have removed all house numbers for the block."

Jessie looked up from the step she was sitting on. "They've done more than that. They also went through half the tenements and unscrewed all the unit numbers. They left this big pile on number in the street and the early traffic trashed them. This is number nineteen. Who are you looking for?"

"Ron Anderson. Do you know him?"

"Old man Anderson. Sure, I know where he lives. I'd better show you the way."

"Thank you, miss. Are you sure it's the right Mr. Anderson? Ron isn't that old."

"Jessie's the name. And he must be at least fifty. Nearly as old you, I guess."

Sam Davids, at the ripe old age of fifty one, nodded.

"That sounds like him. And thank you, I'd appreciate the escort."

"OK. Follow me. We'll have to use the stairs as the lifts are out. Again."

Jessie bounced up and started trotting up the stairs, a few steps ahead of Sam. Sam didn't mind. He was appreciating the view, having to look ahead to see where he was going and legitimately able to look straight up Jessie's short skirt and see her buttocks rolling around in her brief panties.

Jessie happily trotted ahead. Currently eighteen, but not yet sexually active, she still got a kick of knowing that the man below her was probably looking up her short skirt and lusting. That is, of course, if a man as old as that could still lust after the girls.

He was, she found out, when midway between the third and fourth floors Sam reached up and tugged her panties down. Jessie's legs tangled with the panties and she pitched forward, lying sprawled on the stairs, bottom and pussy flashing in the sunlight. Well, they would have flashed in the sunlight if there'd been some, because they were definitely on display.

Jessie giggled, reaching for her panties. "Naughty, naughty, you dirty old man," she thought, giggling too much to actually reprimand him.

Sam brushed away the hand that was groping for her panties and started stroking her bottom and pussy. There was more giggling from Jessie as she tried to push Sam's hand away, but he ignored it, continuing to tease her.

Jessie had been groped before, and had done her share of groping, and quite enjoyed the touches. It was fun and it was harmless and there was also the illicit thrill of knowing someone might come.

She didn't try too hard to stop Sam at this stage, taking the whole think as a complement on her desirability. Then Sam's fingers slid inside her pussy, staring to work her over inside. It was exciting and it was also making her wet, and it was now definitely time to call a halt to this.

Jessie could feel Sam stretching her lips further apart for some reason and trying to stifle her giggles, she managed to snap out a request to desist.

"Stop that. What do you think you doing."

Her voice suddenly went to a very high pitch as Sam pushed between her lips again, but this time she just knew it wasn't a finger. No-one had fingers that big and fat.

Incredulous, she gasped. "He's an old man and he's sticking his cock in me," she thought.

"Stop that," she said, a squeak in her voice. "You can't do that!"

Jessie found that actually, he could. She winced as her virginity was brushed aside as of no importance, and that cock just kept on coming. "Just how big do those things get" she wondered, felling it intrude deeper and deeper.

"I'm serious. You stop that."

Sam finally replied. "No," he said, and pushed in a bit harder.

Jessie found that Sam was finally not pressing in any deeper, and guessed from the way his cock had taken over it was because he was fully inside her. She half wished she could have seen it before it attacked her. It certainly felt impressive.

With Sam holding still, Jessie tried to wriggle away from him, seeing if she could climb to a higher stair. She couldn't. Sam held her easily on his cock, making her stay firmly in place.

Sam reached up and pushed Jessie's top and bra up, freeing her breasts to swing below her. Not that they were free for long as his hands promptly slid around her to capture them.

Jessie felt Sam squeeze her breasts while at the same time pressing his cock firmly against her. Then he relaxed his hold on her boobs and withdrew his cock somewhat.

At this, Jessie relaxed slightly, to immediately find that she'd relaxed too soon. Sam was driving back into her, while squeezing her breasts in time to his thrust.

Jessie was gasping and protesting as Sam thoroughly took advantage of her, thrusting and squeezing, squeezing and thrusting. Finally realising the futility of protesting any further, Jessie shut up. It seemed to her that plugging his cock into a girl immediately turned a man deaf. All she could do was wait until he finished.

Crouched there, Sam busy thrusting into her, it slowly dawned on Jessie she could hear little growling sounds. She listened harder, and suddenly realised that, to her horror, they were coming from her throat. Happy little growls were emerging every time Sam pounded into her.

What was worse, her bum was happily bobbing up and down on his cock, enjoying the ride, and telling her pussy to get with it.

Jessie tried to protest again, but found that when she opened her mouth, those little growls turned into excited little squeals. She snapped her mouth closed again.

And all the time she was becoming even more aware of his cock in her, bouncing her, and the fact that she was also bouncing, helping him instead of just patiently waiting for him to finish.

Jessie groaned and put her head on her arms, noticing that this did not slow the way her bottom was bouncing one iota. And that cock was surely expanding in her. All that she could sense right now was that cock and the pleasure it was bringing her, whether she would or would not.

Then the pleasure was expanding, filling her with heat, burning her out, and Sam was hosing the fire, but he was throwing gas to the flame and Jessie shrieked as the world burned around her.

Sam straightened his clothes and gave her a friendly slap on the bottom. "Enough time wasting," he said. "You were showing me where Ron lives.

In a slightly dazed state, Jessie continued the trip to Mr's Anderson place. Reaching it, Sam thanked her, shaking hands and slipping her fifty dollars just as Mr. Anderson opened the door."

Jessie stood there, looking at the fifty dollars. She wasn't sure whether to be insulted or not. She shrugged, and slipped the note into her bra, making a mental note to take it out of there as soon as she could grab a purse. She had a feeling it wouldn't be safe to keep things in her bra anymore.