Susie Learns the Hard Way (7 page)

Intending to say something intelligent about misunderstandings, but almost paralysed with fear, Susie only made a small noise in her throat. She backed away as the man advanced. Her legs stopped when they bumped the edge of the bed, and she sat down suddenly.

‘That's my girl,' he wheezed, pulling off his jacket and dropping it on the floor. ‘That's my girl.'

Wanting to tell him in words of one syllable that she most certainly was
not
his girl, Susie made some small bleating noises.

Presumably taking this to be a sign of pleasure or encouragement, or even both, he shuffled closer. She instinctively tried to squirm back away from his grasp, realising almost at once that it made her situation worse instead of better, placing her in the middle of the bed with her feet on the edge and her knees raised, allowing him to look straight up her skirt. It was not an opportunity he wasted, and his watery eyes suddenly seemed to find focus, boring in on her groin. She felt his gaze on her like a physical thing, a hot glare that added to the heat between her legs. The effort of screwing up the muscles of his eyes seemed to deplete his ability to control the rest of his face, and his jaw muscles slowly slackened, letting his mouth hang open.

Susie was afraid to move; she could feel the terror all over her body, in the sharply tensed muscles of her toes, the rigid stillness of her arms and legs, the cold trembling in her tummy, and the warm oozing sensation between her legs as liquid soaked into her panties.

As if in sympathy, a long strand of saliva dribbled from the corner of the old man's mouth, slowly lengthening towards the floor in a series of gentle, elastic jerks. Susie watched, spellbound, as a fresh flow of it surged out of the visible gap between his dentures and his shiny pink gums while he stared at the feminine curve of her within the soft material, saw the darkening dampness and the deep furrow at its centre.

Susie knew she had to speak now, or not at all.

His hand, fingers spreading and closing into a bony claw, lifted from his waist.

It was slow motion to Susie; a gradual movement that seemed to last for minutes. Now his hand was in mid-air, stretching slowly forward, slowly downward, moving lower between her thighs, reaching nearer until his fingertips were almost brushing the tight curve of her knickers, and she sat, paralysed with indecision and fear, unable to do anything because she couldn't decide what to do. And as she wondered again whether she should speak – it was too late.

With an appreciative sigh, like a man dying of thirst swallowing a glass of chilled lager, he grasped the area of his delight and sighed again. His scrawny fingers clawed at the soft mound inside the swell of her knickers, felt the heat and moisture her fear had produced, and wriggled about as if trying to force a hole in the material or push it all the way inside her.

Susie squealed again, louder and more convincingly this time, she thought, but clearly not loud enough, as she felt his fingertips digging with jerky movements that sent little tremors through her.

‘Arrr,' hissed the old man, blowing a gale of old beer across her face. ‘Yer like that all right.' And he rummaged about between her legs with enthusiasm, provoking a fresh flow of moisture from her body. To start with fear had been the source of her trouble, though the old man didn't know that. But now the natural reaction of her body was adding to it, and her knickers were flooding with slippery juices.

She thought again of protesting, of explanation and escape, but it really was too late.

For his groping fingers had clawed their way around the elasticated edges of her panties, slipped inside, and were mauling roughly at the soft slickness of her tender flesh. The heat and wetness inspired him still further and suddenly a bony finger thrust easily inside her. Susie gasped in shock and horror, and was mortified to feel the reflexive twitch of her hips. Now it
really
was too late.

‘You're good and ready, you are,' croaked the old man, little knowing how right he was. ‘But wait till you see what I've got for yer.'

Without removing his hand from her groin or his wiggling finger from inside her, he began unbuckling his belt. Susie groaned in dismay, feeling her body responding shamefully to his rude fingers. He let his grubby trousers drop to the floor and stepped out of them, the action pressing his knees right up against the edge of the bed, standing so close she could smell him; a musty, bookish dampness from his clothes, and the warm saltiness of his body.

Susie stared, mesmerised like a rabbit in a set of headlights, as he fumbled beneath his shirttails, and suddenly produced a stout erection in purple and red, blue-veined and knotted.

‘Here you are then,' he wheezed, as if he were giving her some sort of prize, and he waggled it from side to side.

She was going to tell him then, as he raised one knee onto the edge of the mattress, bringing the shiny bulbous end of it within inches of her nose. She was going to shout ‘stop!' and tell him there had been a mistake. But as he shifted his weight onto that knee he leant heavily on his left hand, ramming his finger deep inside her until the knuckle thudded home against her bone with a solid thump.

‘Aaah!' she gasped, feeling the instinctive reaction as her thighs opened wider and her pelvis rolled upward in welcome. ‘Aaah!' she groaned again as he rammed another finger alongside the first and her traitorous hips bucked upwards of their own accord.

Gradually he began to find the required co-ordination and his fingers started to slide in and out in a steady beat, the knuckles thudding solidly against her each time, the fingers pulling all the way out until she was empty and aching before they slipped back in, spreading her pussy and plunging right up inside her.

‘Mmmm...' Her eyes were half closed, that lidded look of sultry arousal she always wore at such moments, and she spread her thighs even wider, lifted her hips higher, and luxuriated in the sensations as his fingers pushed into her.

‘Mmmm... mmm...
mmm
...' She made soft moaning noises and slowly reached up with one hand for the long thick shaft which bobbed around in front of her face.

It was red-hot and rock-hard, though the leathery flesh was loose like an ill-fitting sleeve, and the veins were gnarled like knotted string under the skin.

‘Arrr,' grunted the old man as her dainty fingers curled around him, and then grunted again as she slid her grip up until she'd reached the tip and then slowly pulled back, rolling the foreskin away from the glistening purple bulb. Up and down, very slowly, moved her hand. And she watched, almost hypnotised, captivated as always by the workings of the male organ and the feel of its thick stiffness filling her fingers and her palm, the stickiness of its fluids as it oozed a thick, white juice.

‘Arrr,' wheezed the old boy again, his own hand still busy inside her panties.

‘Mmmm...' breathed Susie softly, as his fingers pressed deep and his thumb flicked lightly across her nut-hard little bud.

She wasn't conscious of moving forward, but she did, and unbidden her lips slowly peeled apart and her mouth closed around the end of the shaft, her tongue flickering across the smooth top as she leaned further towards him, swallowing him down to where her fist grasped him halfway along the shaft.

‘Arrr,' he grunted his approval, and his fingers stiffened inside her.

‘Uurrgghhle...' she gurgled, as the sensations flooded her groin and she felt the beginnings of an orgasm clutching the muscles at the top of her thighs. Suddenly it became very important to come at once, and she indicated this by sucking hungrily, pulling the erection into her mouth, licking and sucking at the very tip as her fist began steadily pumping, flicking the leathery foreskin over the rounded helmet while at the same time flexing her hips against his hand.

The old bloke was perfectly still, not moving a muscle, luxuriating in the sensations as Susie's naughty mouth sucked wetly on his knob and her hot pussy ground down on his rigid fingers, firmly fixed in place now as she grabbed his wrist and held his hand still so she could thrust herself against it, hips rising and falling as she worked the two fingers in and out, her head bobbing, and her juices flowing freely between the two intruders, soaking her panties.

There was a minute, perhaps a little longer, in which they stayed like that, the old man stock still, Susie squirming on the bed, hips grinding, head nodding, both of them totally absorbed in the feelings that grew and grew; oblivious to the traffic outside, the radio playing somewhere across the street, or the whine of a Jumbo six miles overhead. For them there was just semi-darkness, the intimate squelching as her body moved against his, and the thunder of their pulses in their own ears.

Then the old man's cock stiffened even further, if that was possible, and thickened. It grew in her fist and stretched her lips, and she felt the fluid pumping up its length just before the viscous spray burst into her mouth, and every time it jerked and pulsed in her fingers another jet splashed onto her tongue and she locked her thighs around his hand, clamping it against her as the muscles deep inside squeezed his fingers in a series of long, slow waves of release.

As her body slumped she held him in her mouth, rubbing and licking and squeezing as she always did, waiting for it to go soft... but it didn't.

It lost the extra dimensions it had gained in the few moments before it had erupted so copiously, but otherwise he remained as hard as a teenager who'd found his father's secret stash of adult magazines. She leaned back, and there it was, still as stiff and straight as ever, glistening in the gloom. As she looked up curiously at him, he turned his watery pink eyes on her, and pushed one knee onto the bed between hers, spreading apart the thighs that were still holding his hand at her groin, two fingers still deep in the heated wetness of her body.

‘Reckon I'll do yer now,' he hissed, and with no further ceremony he pulled his fingers from her, folded her skirt up around her waist, tugged the wet gusset of her knickers to one side, pressed her down into the mattress, and fed himself straight inside her vulnerable pussy.

She was so shamefully wet and ready his erection sank into her body and thumped solidly home, knocking the breath from her in a loud gasp – a mixture of surprise and arousal.

‘Ar,' he grunted again, and then pulled out, leaving her cold and empty. Then she felt her flesh spread wide as he pushed vigorously back into her.

‘Aaah!' she sighed, and the sound had barely escaped her lips than he was gone again. ‘Aaah!' she squealed, louder and more urgently as he rammed in once more. ‘Aaah... aaah... aaah...' she gasped rhythmically as he began to move briskly in and out. He was watching himself, she realised. He was looking down between her thighs and watching himself thrusting in and out of her, a steady pulsing beat that came and went between the soft lips of her pussy.

She wanted him inside her all the time, wanted to be filled with solid male flesh, needed to have a thick warm pole deep inside, to wriggle and squirm against while she built slowly to her climax. But it just kept coming and going, sliding briskly in and out, spreading her wide and then leaving her empty.

Her hips writhed as she tried to move herself onto it, to hold him deep, but he just kept on going, in and out, in and out. She reached out with both hands, trying to grasp his bony thighs or buttocks to pull him into her and hold him there, but he cursed and panted at her in no uncertain terms to lift her hips and pin her hands under her bottom. She whimpered but instantly obeyed, and so she couldn't hold him, couldn't stop him thumping in and out, the new angle of her hips allowing him to plunge deeper and deeper. And as he plunged away she heard the bed thudding against the wall:

Bump... bump... bump; a sound she knew so well, but always from downstairs when she'd been listening to someone else.

She came almost at once, a writhing, squealing surprise of a climax that gave no warning, just a shattering burst of sensations, all lights, noise, colour and contracting muscles that wrenched a shuddering scream from her as she arched her back and then sagged limply into the mattress.

But none of it distracted the old man, still pounding relentlessly away, no change in pace or rhythm as she lay inert beneath him. Then suddenly he stopped moving too, poised above her, his rasping breath making her damp fringe flutter on her perspiring forehead.

‘Ar,' he grunted quietly, and then she felt him hosing into her, a long spray that made his dangling testicles jiggle against her bottom. And then he hastily pulled out of her, gripped her thighs and pressed them even further apart. Susie half opened her eyes and saw his erection pulsing in the dim light, and then it jerked and another jet of sticky fluid sprayed forth, tickling and tingling as it spattered onto her, leaving small pearls of moisture captured in the short blonde curls on her mound and clinging to the shiny wet folds of flesh. Susie reached out to grab it and pull him back into her, but before she could it sprayed again, thick white cream splashing across her stomach and her blue skirt. Then she was holding it, pulling it in, and as the pink folds parted to let the snub purple bell inside she felt the shaft vibrate in her hand and another gush of sticky fluid burst from the tip.

‘Ar,' croaked the old man. ‘That's wore me out,' and she caught another blast of stale beer and roll-ups as he sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Almost at once the odour of the public bar was joined by an even nastier whiff; his clothes smelt as bad as his breath, maybe worse.