The House Ch. 09

When Phoebe returned to the library after lunch, she found her friend Chantal there. Chantal had moved to the community recently, and they had become acquainted as she had shown her about the library. There was something about Chantal, which had brought out a feeling of friendship even in the old Phoebe. Phoebe had decided it was the hint of loneliness, no maybe that wasn't quite right; it was an introspection that sometimes left her quiet and withdrawn. No matter, Phoebe had been drawn to her and the faint hint of accent in her voice, plus the beautiful uncommon name hinted at mystery. Phoebe knew she had children at home and a new husband whom she loved. She also knew that he was away a lot leaving behind a woman with a passionate nature. How did Phoebe know all this, because the old Phoebe never hesitated to ask questions and watch what a person reads. Chantal was eclectic in her choice of reading material but if one paid attention it soon became clear that in her choice of fiction whether it be action, mystery or romance, all needed a touch of romance and hence Phoebe's conclusion of passion.

Chantal came frequently to the library in the afternoons, it was her little escape from the real world. She loved fantasies of strong powerful men, the men she found in books, ships captains, swashbucklers at heart, who would ravish her against her will, while with hands voice and mouth she showed them her distain of their boorish behavior. She'd beat them about chest and shoulders with clenched fists while their mouths tried to capture hers. Her breasts mashed against their powerful chests causing thoughts she was trying to oppose. Suddenly a rude invasive hand would slide up her skirt and discover her bald pantiless pussy weeping yes, yes, yes. Her mouth, which up until that moment she had held tightly closed would soften and open allowing his probing tongue, her lips accepting his as his fingers roughly penetrated her loins bringing her animalism to the fore. She didn't take note that these men always seemed as though they had just stepped out of a shower, clean and neat, sweet of breath, and although they would sometimes leave bruises on tender thigh and breast, they never really hurt her.

Phoebe didn't know about her other reading material after her kids were safely tucked in bed. The erotic stories that her computer's search engines found for her often arousing her to acts of passion. The old Phoebe, if she had known, would have been disgusted and would have ended any semblance of friendship. The new Phoebe was far more tolerant and would have aided her friend in any way she could, if she were interested, because the new Phoebe found her attractive. Phoebe looked around, where was Paul, he had been coming to the library off and on for years, but recently he had been around almost every day and when he saw Chantal, he would ask her if he could sit with her awhile. Chantal had a shy but friendly soul and would always allow him her time and they would chat about the community. Oh, there he was dressed as usual in a shirt and tie headed toward the table that Chantal was sitting at.

Paul looked down at his newfound friend, recognizing that she was daydreaming again as the book had slipped a little no longer at an angle were it would be comfortable to read, her glasses had also slipped down her nose. She wasn't movie star beautiful, but there was something about her he found attractive, very attractive, because he found himself coming back to see her day after day. He cleared his throat and as usual asked her if he could sit. She glanced up startled. She had been just about ready to spread her legs for her latest mental creation, deep into her fantasy. Upon recognizing him, she smiled and he saw one of the things that had attracted him so, the smile warmed the room.

He began as usual talking about the community, looking her over as he did, watching the unconscious habit of the finger coming up to push her glasses back into place, finding it cute. Her hair was obviously dyed but a color that went well with her lovely skin possibly adding further to her attractiveness. His own daughters had mouse brown hair that they dyed a light blonde. Her make up, although not what he would call subtle, was artfully applied. He surreptitiously looked at her breasts knowing that most women where capable of noticing anything more than a blink. What he could see of them they seemed to be soft and full. He liked them. He wasn't a tit man though, he had grown out of it early finding strong thighs and a full ass far more interesting. It didn't hurt that his wife of thirty years had had the legs and ass he dreamed of. He was of course far too old for her, his sixty years which his bald head and graying fringe portrayed, disallowed any thought of a romance, but the old can dream as well as the young. He felt he was just about old enough that he could have been her father. He was sure she was on the light side of forty but he knew she had troubles at home and saw some of the concern and care in her eyes that may have aged her, a little, throwing off his guesses. They talked on finally coming around to the garbage bin in front of the old house. While they talked about the possible renovations that were going on, and how nice it would be if they were able to see inside, Phoebe walked by overhearing their conversation.

"Sorry for interrupting," she said, "but I couldn't help overhearing your talk about the old house. The owner is a good friend of mine and I know he would be happy to show you around, here let me give you this," and with that she scribbled a note on a clipboard she had been carrying and passed it to them. The two talked about it, then allowing curiosity to win, took Phoebe's note and began to walk over to the house.

Paul wanted to take her hand in his as they walked but realized he would be presumptuous to take the hand of this young woman freshly married. The storm of the previous night had left puddles everywhere and the hot afternoon sun turned the atmosphere into a wet sauna, almost a steam bath. If one looked closely one could almost see the moisture rising into the surrounding air. Paul loosened the tie around his neck and undid the collar button. Chantal seeing the relaxation of his dress code undid a couple of buttons at the top of her dress showing a touch of cleavage and a hint of a black lacey bra. She fanned her hand over her bosom adding a different kind of heat to Paul's body. He finally got his wish, taking her hand in his to help her across a rather large puddle, cherishing her softness before giving her, reluctantly, her hand back. They continued walking, he always making sure she walked to his inside, a lifetime habit that he did unconsciously.

Soon they saw the old house, with its garbage bin still out front. Paul rang the doorbell and they stood waiting for a response, half-wondering why they had come. The house didn't recognize them for neither had been a signatory on the petition, but noting their passionate natures felt it would enjoy their visit. John answered the door with a smile, "How may I help you?" he asked.

Paul, speaking for the both of them explained, "We wouldn't have come, but Ms Wesley the librarian, overheard our conversation as to how much we liked your home, and suggested we do." He handed John the note. "Oh, please excuse my manners, this is my good friend Chantal, and I'm Paul holding out his hand.

John shook it and then turned to Chantal. "And I'm John," he responded. "Chantal, what a lovely name," he said as he tried it out rolling it on his tongue, "most unusual." He glanced at Phoebe's note and then said "I'm busy on the third floor, but Phoebe says you're good people, why don't you come in, look around, any questions please just come up to the third floor." He held the door wide for them and as they entered, Paul felt a stirring in his loins as he followed Chantal into the old house, she looked especially sexy her body turning him on. He was glad she didn't have one of those model's bodies, skinny, boyish hips, tiny asses, their only redeeming feature their long legs, but even then they didn't have the swelling thighs like, well like Chantal did. Chantal missed her man, and felt more than just a stirring, as her bald, freshly shaved pussy, prepared for sex. She didn't understand why she suddenly missed him so, but she knew it had to be for him. Who else? She didn't know the house was not nearly so selective. Maybe she should start wearing panties again she thought although glad she hadn't worn panty hose that day it was just too damn hot.

John returned to his work on the third floor and the two began to look around the beautiful old place. Chantal still couldn't understand why she suddenly missed her man so much. She glanced at Paul out of the corner of her eye. Could it possibly be because she had grown so fond of the elderly, no mature gentleman who stood beside her? Just then, Paul feeling the heat, not realizing it was sexual heat, removed the tie from around his neck, folded it carefully and slid it into one of his pants pockets. As she watched him do it she couldn't help but notice the rather straight bulge that hide under his fly and traveled upwards to his belt buckle. Her pussy gushed when she saw she was looking at what appeared to be some very nice equipment, already erect and prepared, just as she was. She wanted to touch herself badly, hoping to bring some relief, but there was no relief to be had in front of him so she continued to explore the house with him, her mind leaving her new husband and beginning to concentrate on the man beside her. Chantal loved the kitchen, although she didn't consider herself to be a fantastic cook, she enjoyed preparing meals for her children and new husband. However, if truth be known, the meal she loved to serve her husband the most lay between her legs, always warm and ready as a tasty pleasure for his palate. The thoughts made her wonder if Paul would enjoy that meal as well.

Exploration of the ground floor complete they climbed to the second floor, Paul following her up the stairs. He watched her ass move with each step. It wasn't the round, well exercised ass of a young thing; it was fuller, softer, and more succulent than that, with a jiggle of its own as she moved up the stairs. She could almost feel his eyes watching her, and wondered for a moment if she were foolish to give it a little bit of extra movement, but did it anyway. They explored the bedrooms and small bathrooms not wanting to trespass behind the door marked private. So they moved to the front of the house and the bedroom that overlooked the street. It happened to be one of the bedrooms where John had already placed a bed in. The window looked out on the street facing south and the hot afternoon sun poured through the window, heating the room like a sauna. Chantal moved towards the window as the first vestiges of a strange scent drifted about the room. What was that scent she thought to herself as she moved to the window to look out onto the street, feeling her pussy hot and wet. Her hand surreptitiously rubbed her mound as the sun basked her in it warmth, heating her already aroused body further, She could feel the perspiration forming beneath and around her soft, pendulant tits, a small rivulet running down between them. She was feeling oh so sexy and her hand continued to rub maintaining the sensual feeling.

Paul had also noticed the strange scent as he moved in behind her to look over her shoulder. His cock now sent messages that wanted immediate relief. He stood behind her, far closer than he normally would, his hard cock a scant half inch from her beautiful ass. He wanted to bury that prick in the cleavage of her buttocks, but remembered her newly married status, their age differences and resisted. She now very aroused by her hand and the pervading scent, could feel the heat that radiated from his groin and without thought moved the tiny distance that allowed her ass to check out what she had seen. The moment she did his arms came around her, his hands clasped her soft breasts through the thin material of her summer dress and the sexy lacey bra that she had worn. He kneaded them, carefully absorbing the wonderful feeling of soft full tits in his hands. She ground her ass against the hardness allowing it to settle between her checks enjoying the male hardness.

One hand left her boobs and began unbuttoning her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered if anyone could see what was happening from the street? She felt the clip that held her bra together in front, release and her tits no longer constrained by the concealing bra tumbled out. Their brownish areolas and accompanying hard erect nipples exposed to the street. She was such a dirty little girl, because she felt deliciously naked as he further unbuttoned her and his hand discovering her pantiless shaven pubes directly in front of the window. She flaunted herself before the window directly into his questing hands that brought surging heat everywhere he touched. With the strength of one of her imaginary captains, he turned her to face him his mouth taking hers with his. Scorching her with its passion as lips and tongue stole her taste from her mouth. There were no protestations, no beating at his chest with fists, only fire as she returned the kiss forcing her almost naked body against his, her dress and bra hanging from her shoulders. He broke the kiss and with hands brushed the dangling clothes from her.

Then took her back into his arms tolerating no resistance, as though she would, clasping her naked ass, that now mooned the street concealed only by his hands. She grew intolerant of his clothes. She wanted to feel his hard cock in her hand, rub the tip again the clit that now sent her anguished messages of sexual turmoil. Then insert it deep. She broke away from him and ran to the bed, a naked nymph. He watched her as she crawled into bed, her succulent ass and just below it, the shaven pubes, shiny with moisture, peeking from her soft sexy thighs. He wanted to bury his face in the panorama of sexy softness. But when she rolled over and began to play with her pussy, his clothes became a heavy burden. He began by pulling his shirt from his waistband, then unbuttoned it and threw it to the floor. She saw his broad shoulders, his still strong chest, the swell of a belly too large, but solid like the belly of a weight lifter that she had seen on TV during the Olympics. Hair covered his chest, abdomen, and she had the sudden urge that she wanted to run her fingers through it. His pants dropped leaving him in a pair of black briefs, the head of his cock above the waistband, circumcised, solid and mushroom like. He pulled the briefs to the floor allowing his dick to spring forward. It was as she imagined, not huge but above average long, more than enough to satisfy her craving cunt. Little did she know that it would not be the size of his cock that would satisfy her that day!

Then he came at her, allowing no resistance as his naked weight pressed her against the bed. His weight carefully controlled by his arms, his big belly rubbing against her own, his hairiness in her fingers. His mouth took control of hers, demanding her tongue, physically sucking her saliva from her mouth, as his lips ravished hers. Then abruptly his mouth left her and his face buried itself in her soft feminine flesh with such intensity she felt proud of her power over him. His face nuzzled under one breast pushing it up exposing the sweaty underside. His tongue sliding over it tasting the bite of the salt she was secreting. She took one of her tits in hand and fed it to him accepting his homage arching her back to make accessible more of her tit flesh. He lapped at her as though he could ingest her flesh with his tongue, taking the sweat that began now to form on her body rapidly due to the hot sun pouring through the window.

His mouth moved further down her body his tongue circling her navel washing her perspiration away. He noticed that the sun was shinning in the window in such a way that it fell across her belly and thighs highlighting them with light while her face and tits remained in shadow, now a little mysterious as his mouth sought further. Wantonly she opened herself wide anticipating where his mouth would go next. This allowed the sun to fall directly on her cunt as thought the sun wanted to expose the beauty of her sex. Her outer labia swollen with passion, covered with nectar, had drawn aside and her inner labia in her readiness had pushed forward demanding his attention. In all his sixty years he had not seen a woman present so beautifully, her pussy was gorgeous in its arousal. His mouth descended to her white fleshy inner thighs. In reality, he wanted to suck those sexy floppy folds that were presented to him, but he also wanted, for a while, to preserve the exquisite sensations traversing their bodies, the overwhelming urge to fuck. He teased with tongue and was rewarded with soft moans that came from deep within her throat. He moved slightly upwards filling his nostrils with her pungent scent as he took a fat outer fold and sucked changing her moans to soft muted cries. He could stand it no longer and he buried his tongue in her wet and softness. This time he was rewarded with movement in her hips demanding more sensation, more tongue, more friction, as her cries changed to a raspy, throaty, continuous scream that sounded more animal than human.

Upstairs, John and his mom heard the noise, recognizing instantly the song of passion. They turned to each other and smiled, then took each other's hand as John led his mother into the last remaining bedroom, closing the door softly behind them.

Chantal had taken both her breasts into her hands as he licked, squeezing them hard, pushing her approaching organism into her womb, as his flickering tongue built wave after wave of pleasure. Each wave settled on top of the other building towards fruition. Her cunt humping at his tongue so hard he was forced to place a hand hard on her pubic bone holding her thrashing hips to the bed so he could more fervently ravish with his tongue. Suddenly her cries became higher pitched and she started to squirt. Paul startled by this expression of passion, having read about it but never seen it before, pulled back in time to see her gush. Chantal splashed his face as she expelled with hissing force. He instantly regretted abandoning her pussy and moved back to drink her flow, but he was too late and was only able to wash the residue away with his tongue.

"Chantal," he asked, "Do you always expel your emotions like that?"

"Always," she replied, "when I feel that I am being loved as well as fucked." She realized as she said it that she loved the older man who treated her firmly, but gently, making her feel loved in the process.

"Chantal," he said again, "can you do that again?"

"Yes," she replied. "I think, that maybe you are a greedy man." But she smiled her approval before telling him, "Come, suck my titties while we wait for my clit to be ready once more."

He did as he was asked, but a few minutes later once more found his mouth attached to her soft petals of love, feeling the response building to his loving administrations. This time when her body expelled her liquid passion, he was ready, first drinking, and then filling his mouth with her love. He then moved up her body and grasped both of her tits, pushing them together and allowed her liquid love to spill from his mouth onto her breasts. His face followed the liquid rubbing it into her body with cheeks, mouth, and tongue. His mouth savaged each turgid nipple drinking her love, before; with his face, still dripping, kissed her with such passion she responded in kind. Unfortunately, she knew she had to get home for her children. And although she wanted to continue with this man long into the night, her children always came first. They dressed reluctantly and with the little time left move up towards the third floor to thank John for his hospitality.