A Crude Suggestion

Old man Grayson started the ball rolling. The old describes him well, even if it doesn't go far enough. The old boy was older than dirt, a lot of which seemed to cling to him. And his house. Eventually Social Services came knocking on his door and the poor guy was carted away to an assisted living place.

A couple of busy-body biddies protested this high-handed action, saying the old man would die away from his beloved home. Ha, you could have fooled me. The silly old coot couldn't even recognise which house was his when he came back from down the street. His grandson petitioned the court to become his Trustee and the court assigned him the rights without any problems.

A decent young man, his grandson. He put the old house up for sale and set up a trust account to pay the old man's fees at the assisted living place. He got a decent sum for the land, too, because it was big enough to put up some townhouses once the old place was torn down. I saw what the place was like inside and if I'd been the grandson I'd have used a match to level the place. I still shudder to think of what it must have been like living in it.

Still, with the old place gone the builders came in and four very nice units went up and were put up for rent. They were snapped up pretty quickly, too, as there was a shortage of rental property in our area.

The front unit nearest my place was rented by Sonya and Brandon, a younger couple who were only recently married. Brandon was about twenty five and an average sort of man. He worked for one of the big banks but I don't think his job had anything to do with the financial side. A programmer, was my understanding.

Sonya was several years younger than Brandon. I thought she was probably about twenty but I wasn't going to swear to it. I'm not exactly an expert at picking a woman's age. A mug's game that. Get it right and they feel insulted. Go high when they want you to go low, or go low when they want you to go high, doesn't matter. They feel insulted.

If I was asked to describe Sonya I'd do it with two simple gestures. Hold my cupped hands high to the sides of my head to indicate the abundance of blonde hair that she had, and then hold my cupped hands a good six inches away from my chest to indicate the abundance of her mammary development. If she has a child it sure won't go hungry.

Mind you, the rest of her figure was quite good, too. Slender waist, nicely flaring hips, graceful arms and legs, and a sway on her hips when she walked that had men drooling and watching.

Oh, one other thing. I did get the impression that Sonya wasn't the brightest spark around. I'm not saying that she was dumb. More lazy, I think, in not thinking things through. Probably efficient when she applied herself but she'd have to consider the effort worthwhile.

I'd run into Sonya several times while down the street. She was a vivacious and friendly young woman with a tendency to flirt a bit. Not that I minded. It always does your ego good to have it stroked by a pretty young thing.

With Thanksgiving coming on a number of houses in the court were holding barbecues. They were rather free and easy affair for those of us who lived in the court. If you wanted to crash one you went right ahead and crashed and nobody would object. The renters in the four new units fitted right into this philosophy. Seeing I enjoyed barbecues I had a tendency to drop by most of them. Why not? Congenial company and a free feed and I always took a long a few bottles, even though I'm not much of a drinker myself. I'd learnt long ago that the man with a few bottles was always welcome.

I'd run into Sonya and Brandon at a number of these functions. Brandon would go as he felt it his duty to get to know his neighbours and Sonya would go because she was just naturally gregarious. She also took the time to flirt with me when we did meet.

It was having a drink and then running into Sonya that gave me the brilliant idea. It must have been the drink because I wouldn't have thought of this without it. Now I have been known to get the occasional erection when flirting with a pretty girl and Sonya certainly qualified where the pretty bit was concerned. She was in full flirt mode, both of us knowing she didn't mean anything by it, but like I said, I'd had that drink.

Sonya was wearing a short loose skirt, one that swirled away from her when she turned sharply, flaring up enough to give a glimpse of her panties. Just the occasional glimpse, but enough to tempt me to sin. I happened to notice that where we were standing the rest of the party couldn't see us too clearly. Oh, they could see us clearly enough to see who we were but from the waist down bushes obscured the view. I took an unwholesome advantage of this.

"Hey, Sonya," I said, flicking up her skirt and letting my hand latch onto her pussy, rubbing her roughly through her panties. "Why don't you come and see me tomorrow after Brandon goes to work. I have something to show you."

I took my hand out from under her skirt, grabbed her hand, and pressed it against the swelling in my trousers. Her face bloomed bright red and she started spluttering, not knowing what to say. She did snatch her hand away from my groin quite smartly, but she'd certainly been given a good idea of what was there.

I laughed at her spluttering confusion, slipping my hand under her skirt again, once more grabbing her by the pussy and mauling it. Nothing gentle about my touch I can assure you.

She hastily backed away from me and gave me a nasty look. She also took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down. She then sniffed and stepped away from me, not wanting to flirt with me anymore.

"Until tomorrow," I said softly as she walked away.

She avoided for the rest of the evening, not that I was too surprised. I finally went home and went to bed and enjoyed a good night's sleep, rising fresh in the morning.

I'd just finished breakfast and was sitting back contemplating what I should do that day when there was a knock on the back door. The front door I'd have answered. The back door meant someone I knew.

"It's open," I yelled. "Come on in."

I was stunned when Sonya walked in. By my best guess she should have been at home hiding under the bed in case I dropped by, not walking in my back door. She was wearing a white t-shirt with no bra. I could tell because I could see the dark circles that highlighted her breasts, my eyes drawn to them by the little tents in the material. She also had on another of those loose floppy skirts and I think this one was even shorter than the one she'd been wearing to previous evening. Oh, yeah, she also had this very slight blush.

My first thought was 'what the fuck is she doing here'? I then tacked on 'dressed like that'. My second thought hit me with a blinding flash of the obvious. She was taking me up on my offer of the previous evening. I could practically smell her arousal. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

An easy question to ask and an even easier one to answer. If she was wondering if I'd try to have some rough sex with her then it was only fair to show her that I would.

I stood up and moved closer to her. Her t-shirt wasn't tucked into her skirt so I simply took hold of it and lifted.

"Let's get rid of this." I said, as I hauled it up. Talk about determined resistance. She didn't have any. She just lifted her arms and let me whip the t-shirt right off, standing there topless with her breasts heaving from her heavy breathing.

I dropped her t-shirt and my hands latched onto her breasts, mauling them. She stood there, letting it happen, face flushed, breathing hard, mouth slightly open.

I gave a mental shrug, dropped my hands to her skirt, and hauled it down along with her panties, not bothering to undo any fasteners. It came off anyway.

I stood back for a moment, looking at her and enjoying what I could see, letting her see that I was looking and enjoying. Closer to her again and this time my hand was pressing between her legs, roughly rubbing her again, but this time with no panties to lessen the feel of my hand on her. Not a peep out of her. Her flush and her breathing might have deepened a little but that was the only reaction I could see.

I stepped back again, undoing my trousers. I pushed them and my jocks down, my cock almost leaping out at her, it was so big and hard and eager for action. This time she did make a sound but I was damned if I could tell what it meant.

I had this feeling that if I tried to drag her off to a bed she'd be disappointed. Being taken to bed just wouldn't fit in with her idea of being dominated with some rough sex. So I just grabbed her and forced her down onto the kitchen floor, relieved that it was clean.

I grabbed her ankles and lifted her legs high and wide. I could see at a glance that she was ready and waiting, hot and wet. She was lifting her head, staring down at her pussy, watching my cock as it approached.

I didn't hesitate, lining up and plunging in, driving full length into her with no hesitation. Finally I got a notable reaction. She screamed. Not from fright or pain or protest, though. Would you believe the fucking woman screamed because she was climaxing? I was only just driving home and she was climaxing. I've heard about responsive but this was ridiculous.

I paused, letting her have her climax, but as soon as she started to wind down from it I started to wind up my performance. I was rough, crude, coarse, and corrupt. (She wasn't my wife so that made what I was doing corrupt.) I banged into her, hearty and hard, telling her how I enjoyed fucking her and how I expected her to move her bum and fuck me back.

She just lapped up the roughness and the rude treatment, her hips working overtime to keep up with me. I initially thought that I'd probably shoot my load early the way I was going but found that I was hanging on and getting a decent fuck going. I bounced my groin hard against hers, my cock rampaging up and down her passage, the friction bringing burning delight to both of us.

When I decided the time was right I went for broke. I didn't care if Sonya was ready or not. She had wanted some rough sex and she could just damn well take what she got. Besides, she'd already had one climax. I got to work and gave my all, coming to a climax smoothly and quickly.

Sonya must live right as she also came to her second climax, again giving out with a godawful scream.

Subsequently Sonya scrambled into her clothes and headed for the back door. I stopped her before she went through it.

"Sonya," I called. "If you come back here this afternoon I'm going to strip you, spank you, and then fuck you again. The spanking might continue while I'm fucking you."

She looked over her shoulder at me, face red, then bolted. It would be interesting to see if she'd return. If she did, how would she feel about bondage for a third session?