tagNovels and NovellasThe Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 17g

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 17g

byPAUL C©

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 17g: The Batting Order Ch. 07

(Copyright 2002. All rights reserved).

All events and characters are fictitious.


Part 7.

Jenny.

The atmosphere in the car had been strained during the short drive to the cricket field. I sat in the front beside Mary, Paul's mother, not trusting Lynda to leave my body alone if I had sat in the back with her. Or was that me leaving her alone?

Paul came across to the car as we climbed out. I made a big show out of kissing him, hopefully conveying the impression to Mary that I was as heterosexual as she was. His hand slipped behind my back and squeezed one of my ass cheeks.

"Just wait until I get you alone." I whispered in his ear.

"Hmm." He replied.

"You told your mother we would work on her stalls."

"Oh." He moved back and held me at arm's length with his hands upon my hips. "I diddn't." He stammered, he always had trouble speaking when he was nervous. "My mother told me."

"You will help her out. Won't you?" He continued. "She's terribly short of helpers."

He could look dejected when he wanted too. I had to smile at him. He beamed back and pulled me close, crushing my breasts against his chest.

"Come along Jenny." Mary called from the corner of the pavilion. "I would like you to run the bar in here for the members and teams."

She and Lynda were heading towards the main marquee.

That wasn't too bad. It wouldn't be very busy and Paul would be with me when he wasn't either batting or fielding.

Talking about Paul. I could feel his prick growing hard against my pubic mound.

"Coming." I called to her, pulling my body from his prick, looking down at it and then up into his face.

"This is not the time or the place." I admonished, in my best, soon to be a teacher voice.

"Sorry." He mumbled. "I can't help it."

"Control it, you mean."

"I must go." I continued. "Make it go down and I'll look after it for you tonight."

I suddenly felt quite brazen. I don't think I had ever said anything like that to Paul before. He looked a little shocked.

"Be good." I said and turned away, hurrying to the pavilion entrance.

Inside I saw Stephanie standing behind the bar.

"I'm glad you are here." She said, handing me the key to the small cash box that I knew would be under the bar. "I must go and make sure the main bar in the marquee is set up and let my Dad go back to the Pub."

"You have a twenty pounds float." She continued heading towards the door. "Thank you for helping out."

I went behind the bar. I could hear voices from the visitor's dressing room where the opposition was changing. Some of their supporters were standing facing me, expectant looks upon their faces.

"I'll be with you in a minute," I said, looking behind the bar to see what stock I had and where everything was.

Steph was well organised. There was a list of drinks and their prices behind the bar, underneath the cash box and another stuck to the wall for the customers to see. I opened the cash box, took a deep breath and lifting my head said.

"Who's first."

*********************************************

Shirley

I pulled up outside Paul's parent's house in Jenny's VW Beetle. He'd left the front door ajar for me. He didn't want me to spend too much time on the front doorstep while he answered the door to me. Not that any of his neighbours would be likely to comment. They knew it was his daughter-in-laws car and I was still a fairly regular visitor.

I climbed out from behind the steering wheel and locked the door behind me. Hurrying across the gravel and up the three steps between the two stone columns I entered the house and closed the door behind me. I was already breathing heavily. I leaned back against the door and took two deep breaths.

"David?" I called out softly.

"Up here," came his reply.

I looked up the staircase and saw him standing by the door of the master bedroom. He was dressed in his bathrobe. He certainly didn't want to hang about.

"Come up." He said.

I mounted the stairs and climbed towards him. Yes, he was waiting for me. The closer I came the more obvious was the bulge in the front of his bathrobe.

I stopped and stood in front of him. Was this the time to tell him I wanted it to end? He was pulling me close. His hands were on the backside of my jeans. His lips against mine, his tongue pushing between them, filling my mouth.

What was I doing here? His hands were roaming over my back, pulling my blouse from the waistband of my jeans. I pushed him away.

"No." I said.

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking into my eyes.

"It's." I started.

"Come with me." He took my hand and led me into the bedroom.

"I'm sorry." He continued his fingers at the buttons of my blouse. Unfastening them one by one. "I don't pay you enough attention. You must think I only want you for the sex. You know that isn't true."

It was as if he had read my mind. The last few occasions we had been together had been short. In one case I had worn the skirt he always insisted I should wear when we met and all he had done was pull my knickers to one side to penetrate me. Thinking about it that had happened more than once.

When he had come to stay in Gloucester two weeks before I had expected him to book a double room in the hotel for us to share but he had insisted that I only visit him in his. In case people he knew in business should see him, he'd said. It wasn't that. I knew it. He was worried about being seen sharing a bed with a girl thirty years younger than him.

His fingers were fumbling with the button on my jeans. It was undone. I felt the zipper move down, tickling my pubic mound. I pulled my arms from the sleeves of my jeans and unhooked my bra before laying them flat on the dressing table. If I left it to him they would end up screwed up in a ball on the floor.

My jeans were too tight to fall to the ground so I pushed them down, over my hips with my knickers and stepped out of them. I straightened up, naked in front of him. His eyes roamed over my body, then his hands.

First my breasts. He liked them. They must be much firmer than his wife's are. Next he felt my belly. That was flat and firm. Jenny's stuck out a little while Carol and Lynda were all together bigger girls all round. I didn't like my hips, they stuck out like a cow's did but I knew my ass was good. Bigger and higher then Jenny's ass, smaller than Lynda and Carole's asses. David couldn't get enough of it. His hands were on it again now. I had always insisted to myself that I would never let a man even touch me there let alone have me but here I was longing for the feel of his finger against my anus. I gasped out loud as it touched it.

"You like that?" He asked, breathing into my ear.

He had that fresh, straight from the shower smell. He wore a subtle, expensive deodorant. I held him close, feeling the flannel of his bathrobe against my skin. I threw back my head so that he could kiss my throat as his fingers probed between my ass cheeks.

In the back of my brain somebody was telling me to end it. That he was too old for me. That he was just using me for sex. Sex. Yes he was and it was what I wanted. At that moment anyway.

He was pulling away. Guiding me to the bed. Lying me down. He was standing above me. Looking down at my body. Dropping his bathrobe to the floor. His prick was fully up. The veins were standing proud. Not overly long but it was thick. It stretched me and filled me.

He was moving onto the bed, between my legs. I could feel his breath on the inside of my thighs. I bent my knees, opening myself to him. Feeling the lips of my fanny pulling apart. Felling his warm breath then his wet tongue against them.

I ran my fingers through his hair as his tongue pushed inside me. I pulled against the back of his head as I felt the pressure build inside. Felt my clit throbbing demanding his attention. I lifted my hips from the bed and pushed myself towards him.

I let go a shriek of pleasure as his tongue touched my clit. I was coming so quickly. I never came like this with younger men.

His finger was inside me then against my anus. I stifled a cry of pain as he pushed it inside me and worked it in and out.

"Stop." I said, pulling away from him. "I'm too dry."

He pulled his finger from me and lifted his head to look at my face.

"I have something I could use." He said, smiling. "Will you kneel down?"

I hadn't thought he'd want me there today. I wasn't sure I wanted it but he was kneeling in front of me, guiding me onto my face then onto my hands and knees.

I couldn't see him and for a moment a felt a surge of panic inside me. Then his hands were on my ass cheeks, massaging them, pulling them apart. He didn't move for a few seconds and I could imagine him looking down at my anus.

Then he was moving. Standing by my side. Opening a drawer in his bedside table and removing a jar of Vaseline. The bed moved again as he took his place behind me. His hands were back on my ass cheeks. Feeling them. I tried to relax. To enjoy the sensations but part of me was tense, anticipating the coming invasion of my bowels.

His hands left my as cheeks and I heard the sound of the top coming off the jar of Vaseline. Again there was this voice inside me. Why was I letting him do this to me? I didn't want this. But he did.

I jumped slightly as he coated my anus with lubricant. Rubbing it into my tight folds of skin. Folds of skin that automatically contracted at the touch of his fingertip. He pushed his finger against my hole and I squeezed tight to prevent his access.

"Come on." He said, pushing again. "Relax."

Despite myself I felt my anus opening, felt his finger pushing inside me. He pulled it out and I felt more Vaseline being applied. His finger was against my hole again. His time, no amount of squeezing of my sphincter was going to stop it. It was inside. Passed his first knuckle, his second. Right in.

He was moving it in and out. I was moving my hips in time. It felt so uncomfortable but so good. He took it out. More Vaseline then two fingers. This hurt. He was pushing them up inside me. Trying to open them, to spread my anus.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Should I say no, it hurts?

I just grunted.

He was moving them in and out again. The pain had gone to be replaced by a warm feeling. A strange but not unpleasant feeling. I shifted my knees wider apart. That was better.

He pulled his fingers from me and I felt the warmth of his body as he moved closer on the bed behind me. One hand was holding wide my ass cheeks as he placed the head of his prick against my hole. Again my anus contracted as he pushed against it. I willed it to relax, to let him in.

I cried out as he did. He was too big for me. He was stretching me. It hurt. Then he was inside. His balls banged against the lips of my fanny as he drove his prick hard deep inside me. I cried out again. He pulled back then pushed in again and again. Moving faster with each thrust. I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to finish. I wanted him to come.

His hands were on my hips, pulling my ass towards him each time he thrust inside me. I heard him grunt, with effort or pleasure I couldn't tell. I tried to squeeze his prick as it moved in and out.

He slowed for a moment then speeded up. Shorter, faster strokes. I heard his breathing change. I imagined his prick swelling inside me. Then with a thrust that drove the breath from my body I felt him jerking inside me.

I groaned as he pulled slowly from me and stayed in position as he hurried to the bathroom.

That hurt. My anus felt on fire.

I heard the shower running and imagined him beneath it cleaning his prick.

I squeezed with my sphincter. Mistake. More pain.

I slowly moved from the bed and stood up. I was moving like an old woman. The door to the bathroom opened and David stood there drying his prick with a towel. I'd never noticed the grey in his hair before or the lines on his hands and face.

He moved towards me. His arms out to hold me. No. No more.

"I'm sorry David." I said, turning away from him and reaching down for my jeans and knickers. "I want it to end."

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