Freddie the Widower ? Oh Man!

WARNING: Right-thinking readers should stop right here and find more acceptable sexy reading elsewhere.

*

During the long wait for his wife to die Freddie Short thought about life after Shelia's death. He'd miss having her beside him in bed, for sure, but what about during the day when she'd chatter on much about nothing and pester him to take her somewhere?

He'd REALLY miss that.

Freddie tried not to think about missing the sex. Being washed up aged fifty-nine was a little early but like death that was something to accept, not matter how hard it felt. No woman would be interested in him. Women of his age would be after guys half his age and if older women came on to him they'd be so wrinkled he wouldn't know which crack to attempt to slide into. Perhaps they would be something of a thrill if they wore dentures and took them out for him?

At afternoon tea after the funeral his wife's best friend Pamela, a really good sort, married to old Cedric, whispered if he wanted anything -- and wink-wink -- he should give her a call. She still did it if she managed to help Cedric get it up.

Thin Freddie was a little shocked and thanked Pamela warmly, noticing really for the first time her tits hung closer to her belly button than her breast bone. Yeah, so what? His dick had shrunk and that was even worse.

He never did call Pamela because, well, opportunities lay with younger women, surely.

Two weeks after the funeral Freddie was bored out of his tree. Acting positively he decided to return to work as a quick response interior plaster/painter and advertised in the local paper, stating his service was for small jobs only.

The wife of the German counsel called, speaking to him in broken English. In his younger days Freddie had been posted in Germany as a flight engineer/navigator in the air cargo division of a short-haul European airline. He replied reasonably fluently to the woman in her language. She was rather astonished. Mrs Scholz asked if he could come right away and Freddie agreed. He'd kept enough gear when he'd retired to perform odd jobs around his home and for his parents and siblings.

Mrs Scholz wasn't fat with a big mouth. She was pretty and petite, in her early forties.

"I'm so grateful you could come. Other tradesmen could not be here until next week. We have a dinner party on Saturday night. How can I reward you?

Freddie just smiled and looked at the tiny breasts, or more accurately where he thought they were, unaware Mrs Scholz had translated that interest.

It was a small job. There was a chunk of plaster missing from the dining room wall, head high but very noticeable.

"I threw a vase as my faithless husband when he let slip his mistress had not yet left him although he'd agreed with me to dump her. The stupid man ducked and I damaged the wall."

"Relax," Freddie replied in German. "I'll fix it. Fetch your hair drier and leave it with me. After I dry it I'll need to come back after leaving it for three hours to cure a little."

"No you stay here. We can fill in three hours very nicely. I'm a keen woman."

Keen about what? The implication became very clear with just a lowered eyelids glance of mystery with a hint of promise. Er, that was Freddie's conclusion.

They fucked for a couple of hours and then slept and were awaken two hours later by Mr Scholz coming into the bedroom and snorting. Mrs Scholz told him to fuck off and off he scampered and Freddie heard the car roar away. They fucked again in the shower and Mrs Scholz then went off to prepare dinner. Freddie repainted that whole wall, getting rather a good match and after dinner applied a second coat. Mrs Scholz paid him, adding a huge tip and kissing him goodbye, saying he fucked very well for an old man. She asked what had he done with the used condoms and he said, "I left them in your make-up drawer."

Mrs Scholz smiled and pinched his cheek, saying "Naughty boy."

Freddie was very pleased to be back working with its fringe benefits and was delighted to wake in the morning with a rock-hard stiffy. 'Cunt Plunderer' as he secretly had called it for longer than he cared to remember appeared pleased to be back in action.

Of course there were few women who engaged him for small jobs as warm as Mrs Scholz had been, although probably she only opened her legs for him to get back at her husband. The majority of other women were distant, or coldly distant or when he demanded coffee some were frigidly coldly distant.

He was compensated by a few outside the square.

* * *

Politician Mary-Anne Finch called Freddie for a major. The stand-alone air conditioning unit for the indoor pool had stopped operating during the winter and dampness had attacked the plaster on the wall against the laundry and kitchen. The outside wall was all glass and the end two walls were tiled. The ceiling was fine as it had been properly surface finished.

"Well?" said Mrs Finch.

"You have two choices. Get this entire wall tiled or I'll have to work on all the damaged sections and plaster them and then plaster the entire wall and then apply a protective clear finish. Obviously the required protective final coating wasn't done by the original plasters."

"How much?"

"Two and a half to three grand. There is much work to do. Tiling is unlikely to be the cheaper alternative but you are assured of a sound wall finish well beyond your lifetime."

"Do it; if I'd wanted that wall tiled I would have had that done originally. I go for style, Mr Short, not expediency. I'll give you a key for that door over there. Here you are; and here's the alarm code. I don't want you in my house, understand?"

"Yes."

"My daughter Mrs Blake who lecturers at Winstone University at odd hours may visit while you are here working. Will it be acceptable if she swims while you are working?"

"Yes, no problem."

"She is rather attractive."

"No problem. I won't touch her."

"Unless she asks."

Without thinking Freddie repeated, "Unless she asks."

"God, you men are all the same. Right, get on with it. I'll pay you $2500 and not a cent more."

"It may come in at that price or even under it but if it requires more work I'll take shortcuts to ensure I don't input more than $2500 of time, expertise and materials. Is that what you really want?"

"Oh very well, charge me what you like."

"I'll not cheat you Mrs Finch."

"No, I rather think you won't but what about my daughter?"

"I wasn't aware she was part of the deal?"

Mrs Finch smiled. "Goodbye Mr Short."

A bright feminine voice called out, "Hi Mr Short."

"Good afternoon miss."

"You may call me Amanda. Mom said according to you it would be okay if I use the pool."

"Certainly."

"I don't use a swimsuit."

"I won't look, at least I won't stare."

"Oh I won't mind. I have a lovely body."

There was a peel of lovely laughter as Freddie said he'd take her word for that.

Freddie worked industriously and wasn't aware she'd left the pool.

"Come over here Mr Short. I've made coffee for us."

"Are you dressed?"

"Yes, but inadequately according to my husband."

Freddie walked over and stopped, removing his boiler suit and sniffing the aroma of coffee.

Amanda watched him carefully.

He sat and sipped and said great coffee.

She blushed. "Thank you Mr Short."

"It's okay to call me Freddie." He brushed his gray hair back and looked at her with cheeky green eyes. He was just over six feet tall with a straight back and dimples remained when facial wrinkling seemed to disappear under smiles.

"Oh cute name and mom said you sound younger than what you look. She described you as a tough negotiator with a touch of debonair. Do you know what debonair means Freddie?"

"Up yours."

"Oooh that's not being debonair."

Freddie spoke to her in fluent French. "Madam, what is a sophisticated young lady doing teasing an old dried up prune like me?"

Startled, Amanda replied in French, "Mr, you are so fluent and this has surprised and interested me. You are a man of mystery."

Freddie reverted to English. "I worked in international aviation in Europe for eleven years as a flight engineer/navigator for a French-based airline on cargo flights and was based in Germany."

"Then why are you an interior plasterer/painter?"

"When I left the airline after surviving a horrific crash in Russia I settled for the quieter life and joined my father who had a small business specializing in plastering/painting the interiors of premium dwellings."

"But you are old enough to be retired, yes?"

"Early retirement yes, but my wife died recently so I came out of retirement to kept myself occupied."

"Ah yes, I understand. You are lonely in the empty house."

"Yes and thank you for enquiring. I must get back to work."

"You will swim with me tomorrow?"

"Bare body?"

"Yes, it's only swimming as it should be done."

"Your mother would kill me."

"The House begins sitting at 2:00 and rises after a dinner break about 9:00, so my mother will be not be here. I shall be here again about 3:00."

"I really don't know."

Amanda smiled. "Ohmigod, at your age you are shy?"

"Your body is young, firm and very arresting."

"And you might get a hard on. At your age?"

Freddie hung his head. God she was embarrassing.

"Oh until tomorrow. I shall go soon."

"Thank you for the coffee."

She smiled and said it was her pleasure. She blew him a kiss. "I'd expected you to be grumpy and boring."

Freddie smiled and went back to scraping away delaminated sections of plaster affected by bubbling, cracking with areas completely lifting and almost ready to detach. However some two-thirds of the overall area remained sound. It was just tedious, messy work.

The next afternoon Freddie heard, "I'm here."

Freddie looked at his watch and saw it was 3:15. He said hi without turning.

"Do you wish to see me undress? I've brought you down a cool drink -- sit here at the table."

"I am interested in the drink."

"Ouch."

He asked in French for madam's forgiveness and that broke up Amanda who when she stopped laughing said in English he was forgiven.

Freddie sat at the table shifting his chair to be looking straight on to the pool. Amanda said, "I want you to look at me Freddie. I desire to be appreciated. It started as being a show-off when I was a kid."

Freddie scraped his chair to be looking in her direction as she'd intended. Not unexpectedly he viewed the best-looking female form he'd ever seen in the flesh. She stood with just her dress off -- panties, bra and stockings yet to be discarded.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Yeah it's okay."

He could see her skin changing from pink to red, fierce red in places. He quickly added, "The best I've ever seen."

She smiled and completed undressing and dove into the water, having first opened her legs to give him a clear look at her bared pussy with its fat lips. He stripped and stood, toes over the coping tiles, his thick but short dick standing at partial attention.

"It's not very big."

"It gets the job done."

"Oooh, well expressed. You have the look of a very powerful pelvis area for an older man."

Freddie grinned and dove over her, holding up his feet to avoid slamming her. He'd noticed she stood, unflinching. They swam twelve lengths and that was enough for him. He got out, dried and dressed and went back to work while she kept on swimming for an hour."

"Bye," she called, later. "You need to build up stamina."

"Oh yeah?"

"Don't be so defensive."

Amanda arrived each afternoon and on Friday when Freddie stopped after sixteen lengths, determined to build up stamina, she stopped too.

She swam back to him. "Would you like to get me off licking me?"

"Okay."

He caught the glint in her eyes and said, "Nothing would give my greater pleasure. I think about your pussy every night."

The glint turned to blue-eyed sparkle, and she flipped her blonde hair back. "You stay in the pool and I'll sit hanging over the side."

"So you've done this before. The lawn mower guy?"

She giggled.

There was no girly aroma and he thought that was a pity; the pool water had sanitized that but she lubed quite quickly and Freddie watched her clit pop inter view under stimulation.

"I'd always thought I'd hate an old guy doing this to me."

"I'm not old."

She ruffled his hair and giggled.

Freddie was doing something he liked doing and drew her into a shattering climax. She rested, hanging her tits around his ears while stroking down his back erotically.

"Would you like to fuck me?"

"Yes."

"I bet. Unfortunately I'm married. I'll be away for ten days."

"I'll miss you. I'll have my memories. You mom took my card."

"It's on the kitchen notice board. Why would I want your card?"

Freddie smiled. "You'll think about me at times and say to yourself that nice guy Freddie deserves a great fuck."

"God you are a monster," she smiled. "Bye."

"I'll not see you when you return. I'll have to give the plaster three weeks to dry out before putting on three coats of paint and then the finishing coat."

"I'll find out when that is and stay away."

"As you wish. Goodbye my dream woman."

"Freddie, don't you dare say that to me."

He walked off to the toilet not looking back. Cunt Plunderer was in a really bad way, needing to be jerked off. He grumbled to himself fucking Amanda; he ought to have attended to that the selfish bitch.

* * *

The Adams family comprising Jack, Milly and daughters Lily and Wanda had been waiting two weeks for their big new TV screen wall mounting to arrive. Milly called Freddie and he was around the next day, working on making the wall inset almost three times larger than what had been required for the old screen.

Milly came in, practically spilling out of her dress. "She looked at the his work and gasped, "Ohmigod, you have made the recess far too large."

"It is perfect, right to the exact finished gap all the way round to manufacturer's installation specification."

"That's bullshit. Oh I apologize. It was so rude of me saying that."

"It's okay. I know women have great difficulty believing anything men say."

Milly gave him a filthy look and began leaving the room.

"Come back, I need to use you."

Milly returned, face scarlet.

"I need you to help me lift the screen to check how it fits."

"Oh is that all?"

"You made me nervous alleging it was too big."

They held it up.

Milly was delighted. "It's a perfect fit. You are such a clever man. Look, are you able to complete the plastering tomorrow and return on Monday to paint the wall?"

"Yes, I'll be using quick-drying plaster, three thin coats. That will work out fine."

"Lily, Jack and I leave tomorrow to visit my parents and will return Sunday night. Is it all right to leave Wanda in the house with you? She doesn't have college tomorrow but has a birthday party to attend on Saturday so is not coming with us."

"Tell Wanda to hang out at the mall tomorrow and go to an afternoon movie."

"I'm not worried about Wanda being alone with you. She's twenty. I'm worried about her distracting you. She could become bored being home alone."

"I can work and talk at the same time, like I'm doing now. I haven't met Wanda. Will she be strong enough to help lift the screen so I can mount it?"

"Yes, definitely, she is stronger than me. She plays basketball and ice hockey."

"What say she, um, comes on to me?"

"That is very unlikely Freddie though I hear from other mothers she puts it about with some of the college tutors."

"Naughty girl."

"I think so too. But if she does decide to give you a lucky day just don't tell me, huh? But for that to happen you'll need a miracle."

"Very well Mrs Adams."

"Please call me Milly. You really are a very nice man."

"For an older guy?"

"No for a man. If I weren't so virtuous I could fancy you myself."

Freddie grinned and said, "If you change your mind just tap me on the shoulder."

Milly smiled. "God you are very forward for an older man Freddie. For me to change my mind would take a miracle."

A young woman with wild hair and sleepy eyes answered the doorbell and said, "Hi I'm Wanda. You don't look as old and as scruffy as I thought."

"And you don't look dressed."

"This is a shortie nightie. It's legal."

"I bet if you walk one hundred yards down the street you'll be arrested."

"Move aside and I'll prove you wrong."

"Hell no Wanda, don't you dare. Your mom would kill me if I let you out dressed like that."

"I only wore it to look provocative. Normally I wear nothing to bed."

"I bet."

Wanda laughed and told Freddie he had good humor. Mom warned me not to expect my concept of a man in his early sixties."

"What else did she say about me?"

"She warned me not to bend over in front of you."

"You lying young bitch. How's the coffee?"

"Come to the breakfast bar sir. I'll try to remember to sit with my legs closed."

"You may sit anyway you wish. Only a tap on the shoulder gets me going."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Mom said you'd be quite a challenge for me."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, good with repartee. That means..."

Freddie spoke rapidly in French, saying a college girl ought not think an old man was uneducated.

"Ohmigod, you speak French fluently. French is my second major and I'm home today to bone up on French grammar. We have a test on Monday."

"Lucky you."

"May we converse all day in French, you correcting me on grammar and offering explanations?"

"I don't see why not."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yes."

"Stay for dinner. Everyone says I'm a great cook."

Freddie began talking to Wanda in French, looking unwavering at her face, knowing the little bitch had opened her legs and was facing him. They agreed to have a French meal. She reached for the phone saying she'd call a cab. Freddie said use his car and she said she was surprised he'd trust her with his car. Smiling, Freddie replied if she trusted him enough to sit facing him with her legs wide open to her presumably bare pussy he ought to be civil enough to trust her. Wanda blushed and snapped her legs shut.

At last, with Wanda off preparing to go shopping, Freddie got back to working on the TV wall.

He finished his work by 3:15 and called out to Wanda.

"Give us a lift here please?"

"Speak French to me your ignorant peasant."

Freddie grinned and told her in French what converted into English as saying, "Please don't fuck up. The plaster must not be touched." He extended the frame fitted to hold the TV virtually flat inside the recess.

Wanda was wearing a sundress and for the first time Freddie realized she had tits, good ones, far more than a handful. Carefully he gave instructions. Wanda said she understood and no she didn't want the instructions repeated in English.

They lifted the big screen and Freddie quickly attached it and complimented Wanda for a job well done.

"Am I to be rewarded with a kiss?"

"No."

"Why not."

"Because I may be tempted to try other things."

The twenty-year old shouted to Freddie, "Stop fucking around and kiss me."

He said in French he was older than her father."

She shouted, "Please explain the relevance of that comment."

Being without an answer, Freddie kissed her and the youngster with obvious experience turned it into a passionate kiss.

Freddie drove home late, scarcely believing he'd that evening fucked a twenty-year old three times. The crowning moment for him had been, Wanda with his semen streaming over her breasts as she whacked him off saying in absolute astonishment, "Where the hell did all this jizz arrive from?"

Earlier the second most satisfying moment had been after she'd complained he was not very long she had groaned, "God you are thick" and began feeding him into her very gingerly. They'd both watched with immense satisfaction his eager dick sink into her depths.