An Old Man and the Maid

DUSKY FULLERTON

© Copyright. Dusky Fullerton 2021

This is the work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or situation or place is purely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

A long time ago I met Mr Snyder. At that time his age was close to 65 years. He had a white beard, and he wore glasses with black frames. He was a very wise man.

I used to do cleaning work in his office. It wasn't difficult work because the office was very small and it only took me ten minutes to clean every day.

Mr Snyder taught me many things about life. He told me how important it is to take care of yourself, and how important it is to be happy. He also said that you should never give up on anything you want to achieve.

"If you are willing to learn," he told me, "you can accomplish anything."

After I started working for him, he began to teach me other things too. He always encouraged me to try new things.

I still remember the first day. Mr Synder was sitting in his chair reading a newspaper. When he saw me come into the room he looked at me with a smile. Then he put down the paper and asked me what my name was. I answered, "My name is Jane".

He smiled again and said, "Good morning, Jane. You're a hard worker, aren't you?"

I just nodded my head.

He asked me to clean his office. I lifted my saree to my knees and began to dust the desk. As I worked, Mr Snyder walked around the room and watched me. After a while he sat behind his desk and started talking to me.

"You know, Jane," he said, "I'm really pleased with your work. Your cleaning has been perfect. If I didn't have so much paperwork to do, I would hire you as an assistant."

I just stared at him, not knowing what to say.

He continued, "How old are you, Jane?"

I told him I was 29 years old.

We chit-chatted for a while. He was very open-minded. He told me that he lived alone in the house, and that he hadn't married or had any children. He explained that he'd always wanted to marry and have kids, but he didn't think he could find anyone who would share his values.

Then he told me, "Jane, if you ever decide to get married, let me know. I'll make sure you meet someone nice."

I thought he was joking at first, but then I realized he meant what he said.

"Thank you, sir," I said.

Mr Snyder stood up from his chair and walked over to me. He put his hands on my shoulders and gave me a big tip.

"You're a good girl, Jane," he said.

After I left his office, I felt like crying. I knew that Mr Snyder cared about me. He was a kind and generous person. I agreed to clean his apartment as well. I cleaned everything, even though it was a little messy.

One day while I was cleaning his home, my saree slipped exposing my breasts. I did not pay attention as I never thought Mr Synder would view me sexually. He was sitting on his bed watching TV.

When I noticed that he was looking at me, I quickly covered my chest with my arms. I was embarrassed. I told myself that it was not my fault. I had no idea that he would look at me that way.

Mr Snyder looked at me with a smile. I just smiled back at him and went to continue cleaning.

After I finished, he invited me to sit next to him on the bed. We talked for a while. I felt awkward, but I tried my best to act natural.

He kept asking me questions.

"Are you married?"

"No."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

He asked me all kinds of questions. Some were personal, some weren't. He seemed genuinely interested in me.

He asked me if I liked my job. I told him I did.

All this while he stared at my breasts. Despite his age I could see he felt very horny and wanted to fuck me. He kept looking at them, smiling as if in admiration or perhaps hunger. My nipples were hard and I knew they must be visible through the thin material of my blouse. It was so embarrassing!

I finished my job and left for the day. I didn't want to have sex with him, but I also didn't want him to know that. That day we didn't talk much. When I got home, I changed into a more comfortable nightie and went to bed. The next morning I woke up early, before he did. I took a shower and then made myself some coffee.

Next day when I went his home, he was sitting on a chair as if waiting for me. He hadn't gone to office that day. I found him constantly ogling at my breasts. I started cleaning his house as usual. But there was no conversation going on. All the time he was staring at my boobs. At one point, I thought he would touch them. He even reached out and brushed against them. But he didn't do anything else. I continued cleaning the house, thinking about what to do.

I too decided to play along. I needed money and though he was old, he was rich by my standards. I started talking to him bit freely. His questions were subtly sexual, but not overtly so. I talked about my husband, my family and other things. I asked him how old he was. He told me he was in his sixties. I said it's a good age to retire. He laughed and said no, he wasn't ready yet. I asked why not? He said he had something planned. I asked what? He said he would tell me later.

He asked me if I would like to become his friend. I promptly said yes. We chatted about our families, hobbies and interests. After a few hours, he ordered lunch for us from nearby restaurant. We ate together. During the meal, he was again staring at my breasts. He kept touching himself under the table. I pretended not to notice.

I too positioned my saree in such a way that it gave him ample opportunity to look at my cleavage. He kept staring and smiling, but he didn't touch me. I was feeling very uncomfortable. He didn't say anything either.

After the lunch, he suggested I should come over tomorrow. I agreed. The next day, I went over to his house as usual. As soon as I entered, he greeted me warmly and asked me to sit down. He offered me coffee and I accepted. He sat beside me.

Now we used to chat freely. We used to talk for hours. I found a very good friend in Mr Snyder. Sometimes when I sat beside him, he would caress my cheeks and I could see a bulge forming in his pants. I did not have any objection to this because he helped me financially too.

I was pleased that he had made the coffee himself, for me. I was still wondering what his plan was. But I knew that he was horny as hell. He was constantly looking at my boobs. He began the conversation casually, asking about my life and my family. Then he asked me what I liked doing most. I replied that I enjoyed watching movies. He asked me what kind of movies I watched. I told him I loved to watch horror with a tinge of sex. He laughed and said he loved those too.

Then he asked me if I ever fantasized about being fucked by someone older than me. His question took me by surprise. He was quite bold.

I answered that I did. I told him I had always been curious about sex with an older man. I didn't mention anything about my husband, because I didn't want to reveal my identity.

He smiled and said he understood. He told me that he had a huge collection of porn videos. Would I like to see them? I hesitated. I felt shy. He asked me if I would prefer to watch them alone or with him. I hesitated, not knowing what to say. Finally, I told him that I would rather watch them with him.

He nodded and stood up. He walked towards his bedroom. I followed him. He turned around and asked me to close the door behind me.

I closed the door and waited. He opened his closet and took out a box from inside. He handed it to me. I opened it and saw several video cassettes.

He sat on his bed and started playing one of the tapes. It was titled The Prom Night'. I was watching it with rapt attention. Mr Snyder was wearing only his shorts and shirt. A young girl was sucking his cock. The girl was in her mid-teens. She was kneeling on the floor and the old man was standing above him, stroking his cock. The girl looked up at the old man and moaned in pleasure. The old man knelt down and pushed the girl's head onto his cock. The girl started sucking the old man's cock. She licked and sucked his balls. He held her hair and pulled her face closer to his cock. The girl was moaning continuously now. Her tongue was moving all over his cock. The old man was grunting and groaning. Suddenly he grabbed the girl's head and pushed his cock into her mouth. She gagged. The old man was laughing. He removed his cock from her mouth and slapped her on her cheek. The old man pushed her down on the ground. He got on top of her and started fucking her.

From the corner of my eyes I looked at Mr Snyder. He was breathing heavily, and his face was red. The sweat on his forehead glistened in the light from the window. His lips were moving slightly as he whispered something to himself.

I was sitting a few feet away from him. Slowly I opened two buttons of my blouse and began to moan softly. My breasts came into view and Mr Snyder's eyes widened. I knew that if I didn't stop soon he would come over and try to do something about it. I closed my eyes again and continued to move back and forth across the couch, letting out soft little moans.

After a few minutes, I felt his hand gently brush against my cheeks. It was warm and moist. He reached down and grabbed one of my nipples through my bra. "Mmmm," I said, as he started to twist it around.

"You're such a tease," he said, panting.

He leaned forward and opened the remaining buttons of my blouse. My breasts were freely hanging in the air. He sucked my nipple between his lips. I groaned loudly. He licked up and down, flicking his tongue over it, then moved onto the other breast. I groaned again, louder this time. I could feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter.

Mr Snyder released my breast with a pop and stood up. He pulled me off the couch and pushed me against the wall. He put his hands on my hips and lifted them up. He bent his head down and took my left nipple into his mouth. I groaned again. His right hand slid down my stomach and grabbed my ass. He squeezed hard. I gasped for breath.

"Oh God!" I cried. "Please don't! Not there!"

He ignored me. His mouth was sucking on my nipple now. I felt my legs weaken. I tried to pull them together but he kept pulling me apart. I couldn't help myself; I started to grind my pussy against his leg. I whimpered. He stopped sucking and let go of my nipple. Then he grabbed my hair and forced my head back.

"You like that?" he asked. "You want more? You like being teased?"

"No!" I screamed. "Please! Stop!"

But he wouldn't stop. He pulled my hair harder and pushed his cock against my ass. I cried out and grabbed his shoulders. He laughed and shoved me down to the floor. He got on top of me and held my arms above my head. He reached behind him and unzipped his pants. I heard the sound of metal hitting wood. He pushed the zipper all the way down and pulled his dick out. It was huge. It was bigger than mine. He slapped it against my cheek.

At 65, his cock was still soft and a little plump. His skin was smooth as silk, with just a hint of the lines that would come in time, but he had no intention of aging gracefully. He wanted to be young forever, and if that meant a youthful body, then so be it.

He looked up at me, my face lit by the firelight. I smiled back at him, and he saw something new there. The smile came from the heart, not just because he was pleased that I'd taken his cock into my mouth.

"You're very good," he said. "I've never been sucked like this before."

"Do you want more?" I asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Oh yes," he breathed. "I do."

I pulled off his pants, and let them fall to the floor. His underwear followed, and I took his cock in my hand again. It was warm, and hard, and I could feel its pulse against my palm. I licked it slowly, running my tongue over the head, and feeling the heat radiating from it. Then I opened my mouth wide and took him inside me.

It felt wonderful. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation, sucking gently on his shaft as I moved up and down. He moaned softly, and I thought I heard him whisper, "Fuck me, honey."

But I didn't want to fuck him. Not yet. I wanted to make love to him, to explore his body, to learn everything about him. So I slid up until only the tip of his cock was inside me, and then backed away, letting him watch me.

I began to suck his cock, slowly at first. I could feel the heat of it through my thin blouse as I took him into my mouth. My hands slid up and down his thighs, feeling the firm muscles under the skin. His eyes were closed; he was breathing hard, grunting now and then.

"Oh, God," he said softly, "that's good."

I looked up at him from between his legs. He had one hand on the back of my head, holding me there, while with the other he gently stroked the side of my face. He kissed me lightly, his tongue darting in and out of my mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

He pulled away a little, and I saw that his cock was covered with a sheen of sweat. It was still hard as iron, and it glistened in the sunlight.

"Suck me," he said. "Just like that."

My mouth went around him again, and he put both hands on the back of my head, pushing me down onto him. He sighed deeply, and I felt his cock throbbing against my cheek.

His hips jerked forward, and I felt the thick crown of his penis slide across my lips. Then he pulled back again, and I heard him groan as he came.

He let go of my head, and I sat back, gasping for breath.

"That was wonderful," he said. "Thank you."

I stood up and straightened my saree.

He got up, cum dripping from his cock. He wrapped his hands around me. I could feel him holding back. "I want you to fuck me," he said.

"Yes," I said. I was on top of him now, my face buried in the crook of his neck, sucking and kissing at his throat. I looked down between us and saw his cock. I felt it growing again. His fingers were inside me, stroking my ass. He pushed them in deeper. My legs were spread wide apart. I began to move on top of him.

He lifted himself up on one arm so that he could watch. He put his other hand under me and guided my body against his cock. It slid into me easily. He watched as I began to ride him. The bed creaked with each thrust. I moved faster, riding him harder.

He held onto me and groaned. I had never seen a man like this before. I rode him hard. I came over and over again. We were both moaning and grunting.

When we finally finished, I collapsed on top of him. His arms went around me and he kissed my cheek. "Thank you," he whispered.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know if he'd heard me. I felt empty. I lay there for a while. Then I reached out and touched his chest. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was a comforting sound, and I felt safe in its rhythm. "You're very quiet," I said.

"Sorry." He sounded embarrassed.

"Don't be sorry. I'm glad you're here with me."

He made an uncertain noise that might have been agreement or dismissal. I didn't care which it was; he'd given me what I needed, so I went back to sleep.

***

CHAPTER TWO

I woke to find myself lying on my side, curled up against Snyder's body. My hair had fallen over his face, and I brushed it away before I remembered where we were. Then I looked around the room and realized that it was already noon.

Snyder was still asleep, sprawled out across half of the bed like a discarded rag doll. I sat up slowly, careful not to wake him. The sheets smelled faintly of sweat and sex. I wondered if I'd really slept that well, or if I'd just imagined it.

I looked at his cock. It was softening in its sheath, but it wasn't completely flaccid yet. It looked inviting, and I wanted nothing more than to sink down onto it and feel it fill me up again. But I knew better than to let myself get carried away. I needed to take things slow.

I reached for the edge of the blanket, then stopped. I could feel the shape of Snyder's cock through the fabric, even though it was covered by the sheet. I smiled. It was probably a good thing I hadn't woken him.

I turned away from the bed, moving quietly so as not to disturb Snyder. There was a large mirror on the wall above the dresser, and I paused to look at myself. I wasn't wearing anything except the blouse. I'd never seen myself naked in the mirror before, and I found it strange to see my body without any clothes covering it. I looked slim and lithe, with long legs and full breasts. My skin was smooth and white, and I was surprised to find that I had no tan lines.

My nipples stood out stiffly against the fabric of the blouse, and I ran my hands over them. They were hard and aching, and I knew they must be poking right through the thin material. I couldn't help but wonder how much they would show when I took off my bra.

I turned away from the mirror and headed for the bathroom. As I passed the bed, I heard Snyder moan softly in his sleep. I stopped, listening to him breathe. I felt my own pulse quicken, and I was suddenly aware of how close I was standing to the man who had just fucked me few hours ago. I waited for him to wake up, but he didn't stir.

I sighed and walked into the bathroom. I splashed water on my face, washing away the last traces of sleep, then dried off and went back to bed. Snyder was still asleep, his breathing deep and regular. His cock lay straight up against his stomach, like a pale pink stone sticking out of a dark gray cliff.

I watched him for a moment, wondering what he was dreaming about. I thought about waking him up, letting him see me watching him. I wanted to make sure he saw that I was awake, that I was aware of his presence.

I slowly removed the bedsheet and kissed his soft cock gently. I could feel it throbbing under my lips, but I kept my hand pressed firmly against it to keep it from getting too excited.

His eyes opened slowly, staring blankly up at the ceiling as he came awake. He groaned softly, his eyes focusing on me. I looked down at his cock, then back up at his face.

"Hi," I said.

He blinked several times, trying to focus. "What are you doing?"

"Playing with your cock," I replied.

He frowned. "How did you...?"

"You were sleeping. I couldn't resist."

He glanced down at his erection. "Oh. Okay."

I leaned forward and kissed his cock again. I licked it gently, tasting the salty sweetness of his precum. He moaned softly and pushed himself up onto his elbows. I continued to lick his cock, enjoying the taste of him.

He looked down at me with a smile. "I guess I owe you one."

I grinned. "Maybe two. How many people have you fucked in this bed?"

"Not nearly enough," he said. "But I think we can work something out."

I looked up at him. "You want to fuck me again?"

"Hell, yeah. You're incredible."

I leaned down and kissed him. I tasted myself on his tongue, and it was a delicious sensation. I slid down the bed until my mouth was level with his cock. I took him in my mouth, sucking him greedily. I held his hips tightly and sucked harder, sliding my tongue all over his shaft.

He groaned and thrust his hips upward, pushing his cock deeper into my throat. I gasped and gagged slightly, but I managed to pull back quickly.

"Jesus, I'm sorry!"

I wiped my chin with the back of my hand, smearing his juices across my cheek. "It's okay," he said. "I don't mind."

I began to suck his cock. He pulled my head up and down, forcing the head of his penis into my mouth. My eyes were wide open as I looked at him. His face was contorted with lust, his eyes burning with passion. He forced me down on his cock again, but this time he held it there for a long moment. "Suck," he whispered. I sucked harder.

He let go and moved behind me. I felt his hand on my ass. I didn't move away. Instead, I lifted myself up onto my hands so that my back arched and my ass was raised higher. I felt his fingers dig in deep and then pull out. Then they slid back in. I groaned with pleasure.