Carol Taylor

Her name was Carol Taylor. She was in her mid-sixties, and for at least five years now, since the age of thirteen, I had been lusting after her. She lived on the same street as my family, and I'd been doing chores for her for small payments for years now. It had started off as just a way of making a bit of extra money, to save for a games console - but now, with my teenage libido in full bloom, I had come to see her in a completely different light.

Her previously dark hair was now more than three-quarters grey, and slightly curly. She had a round, kindly face that always seemed to be forever smiling, with gentle crow's feet and laugh lines framed by small round glasses. She wasn't fat by any means, but she was certainly carrying some extra weight. With that said, she only had a slight pot belly - most of that weight was around her bottom, hips, and breasts.

Talking of those breasts, they were big and heavy, with large nipples that were occasionally erect. Even though she certainly didn't have a slim waist, her large breasts meant that her blouses were often a little too small around her bust. That meant her tits pushed out at the fabric, pushing the blouse slightly apart at the buttons. I'd often glance over just as her dress was gaping slightly, and I'd see a glimpse of her soft white breasts through the stretched material between the buttonholes. On several occasions I was worried she had spotted me looking. But if she had, she'd never said anything.

I could be a lot more blatant when it came to looking at her bottom. In fact I was doing so right now - she was doing the washing-up, and I was watching the cheeks of her ass jiggle slightly under the fabric of her trousers as she scrubbed the dishes. I filed the image away in my mind for jerking off later. She was humming softly to herself, then she half turned and addressed me.

"Have you eaten yet dear?"

As she spoke, my eyes idly continued to run over her curvy ass, and not for the first time I imagined what it would be like to bend her over her pine kitchen table, pull down her trousers and knickers, and just bury my cock into her. I knew what those knickers looked like, too - she wore French style knickers, lacy, the sort you couldn't really see through, but where you could still get a good sense for what was underneath. I knew because I'd looked through her ironing pile once. At the time, for the briefest of moments, I'd wondered if she'd miss just one pair... but then I'd come to my senses. She'd always been really kind to me, and stealing her knickers as a wanking aid felt like a real asshole move. So, I'd carefully placed them back into the pile. But at least it meant I could picture her better.

As I watched her ass, my penis responded, quickly stiffening in my pants. I imagined her gasping as she took my full length. I imagined reaching around and gripping her soft boobs, while she moaned as I fucked her from behind. It was certainly a nice image. But I dismissed it quickly from my mind.

"Oh no, I'm fine Mrs. Taylor, thank you."

She shook her head. "How many times have I told you dear? Call me Carol. I haven't been Mrs. Taylor for fifteen years now, since my husband died."

I smiled. She always asked me to call her Carol, and I always found it really hard. It was a running joke between us.

"Ok Mrs. Taylor."

She laughed, a tinkling sound that somehow just made her more attractive to me.

"Now, before I forget - don't come around on Thursday, because I won't be here."

I'd been doing some gardening work for her today. I often did it with my shirt off - which I secretly hoped that she quite liked. But if she did, again, she'd never said anything. I'd gotten about halfway through, and needed at least one more day.

"Ok. What are you doing?"

"Well, I'll have to go to my life modelling class."

"What's life modelling?" I asked.

She smiled. "Well. I go there, take a pose, and they draw me."

This was new. I imagined her standing in some sort of pose, in front of a load of students. It felt like it would be pretty boring for her.

"Why do you do that?"

She laughed. "They pay me, dear."

"How much do they pay you?"

She smiled. "Oh, a little bit more than twenty pounds an hour. It's a little extra to help with the household budget, and sometimes it pays for a nice treat."

I whistled. "Wow - twenty pounds a hour? That's pretty good for just standing around!"

She laughed. 'Well, yes. But then, you do get a little extra for the fact that you're standing around naked."

I was stunned. Gobsmacked.

'You're... you're naked?'

She smiled. "Oh yes. I have to admit I found it a bit daunting the first time, but once I'd actually stripped off, to be honest it just felt completely natural.'

I couldn't believe this. The thought of her standing naked in front of a load of art students... Something like twenty seconds went by, while I tried to compute this new information.

'Do the... do the men look at you?'

She smiled at me while she dried a plate. I stared at her breast as it swayed in time with the circular motion she was making. Then I looked back at her, and noticed she was looking directly at me. I looked away quickly, hoping she didn't see. She didn't seem to have noticed. She placed the plate into her cupboard.

'Well, yes, they have to dear, if they're going to draw me!" She smiled at me then warmly, her eyes twinkling. "But then, that's not what you mean, is it?"

Before I could answer - not that I knew what to say - she continued. "Most of them are very professional, but I have to admit a few of the students spend a little more time looking at certain parts of me.'

"Which parts?" I couldn't believe I'd said it out loud - but she responded as if I'd asked about the weather.

"Well, mainly my boobs. They've held up quite well, even at my age - and I've never met a man who didn't like big boobs." She glanced over at me, and then back down at the dish she was drying. "But I don't mind at all - I'm an old lady, and my body's just like anyone else's. If it gives them a little thrill to look at me, I certainly don't mind'.

She turned and stacked some more plates into the cupboard. Meanwhile, my jaw was still open, and my mind was swimming.

I had £50. From the gardening work I'd already done for her. I was saving it up for a games console...but... I wasn't sure if I could ask it. Wasn't sure how she would react. Would she get angry? Throw me out? There was a lot of downside.

But... what if she said yes?

"Er... Mrs Taylor? If I... paid you... would you model for me?"

She stopped instantly then, the cloth paused in mid-air, and looked at me, peering at me over her glasses. My cock immediately shriveled, and my face burned red. If I were better at humor, I would have tried to make a joke of it - like it was just banter. But I wasn't that skilled with conversation. I suddenly felt like I'd made a horrible mistake. I looked down at the floor.

"Mrs. Taylor, I'm really sorry. I..."

I didn't know what to say. I felt like I wanted to ground to swallow me up.

But to my astonishment, while she certainly looked surprised, she didn't look angry.

"Are you saying that you want me to undress for you?"

I didn't know how to answer this. So, reflexively, I just told the truth.

"Er... Yes."

She contemplated this, still staring at me over her glasses. A long moment passed. "And do you want to draw me? Or... just look at me?"

I couldn't believe we were even discussing it. My penis, which had shriveled practically into nothingness, started stiffening again, and I felt my balls tighten.

"I... just look at you."

She studied me for a long moment. Then she glanced down at my crotch. I looked down, and I saw that my penis was straining against my trousers, once again fully erect. My face burned red again.

"I'm really sorry Mrs. Taylor..."

"Stop apologizing dear. It's far from the first time I've seen your manhood in that state."

"I... you have?"

"Oh honestly dear. I've seen you looking at me. And I've seen that bulge come up in your trousers while you've been looking."

My face was burning red again. All this time, she'd seen me.

"I'm really sor-"

She interrupted me. "Dear, if I minded you looking at my boobs or my bum, I would have thrown you out a long time ago. Please stop apologizing. You're a young man, with raging hormones, and it's perfectly understandable. You should be proud of it - my poor husband, god rest his soul, would have killed for an erection like that in his last few years."

I didn't know what to say to this. I wondered if she'd had sex with a man since her husband died.

"I'm sorry..."

"Oh, don't worry, he found other ways to make me happy." She stood, hands on her wide hips, looking over her glasses at me. My face burned red, but this time my penis didn't shrink - if anything, it grew larger. She looked down at it, and then took a deep breath.

"Now. If we're going to do this, I'll need to set out a few ground rules. OK?"

I couldn't believe this was real. As I spoke, I stuttered, barely getting the words out.

"Y-yes, anything."

She took at step towards me. I glanced down at her breasts, involuntarily, like a reflex. I noticed that her nipples were hard. This wasn't that unusual - her nipples were often hard, and I noticed every time. But seeing them now made my cock feel like it was bursting out of my trousers. She motioned at me to look up.

"Here's the deal. My body isn't much to look at, but I'm not ashamed or embarrassed about it. So I'm happy to show it to you. But I want you to promise you won't tell anyone."

I nodded, quickly.

"Good. Secondly, I don't want any talk about payment. If you want to see my body, I'll show you. But I'll show you of my own volition, because you've asked, and I don't want a penny for it. Understood?"

I nodded again.

She looked at me for a few moments, and then nodded, as if satisfied. Then she reached up to her blouse, and started undoing her buttons. I watched her, dumbfounded. Was this really happening?

She took off her blouse, carefully folded it, and placed it on the kitchen table. Then, she reached back, flipped open her bra, and shrugged it off.

I sat back, looking at her tits, barely able to believe this was happening. Her breasts had a noticeable sag, but they were surprisingly firm, given their size. I could see silver stretch marks on both, running to her nipples. Without thinking, I reached out, and traced a finger along one silvery scar, from near the top of her breast all the way down to her nipple. And then I realized what I'd done. I pulled my hand away.

'Oh god, I'm so sorry -"

She interrupted me, and took my hand in hers, still smiling. 'It's okay darling. It's okay. To be honest, it's been a very long time since a man has wanted to touch my boobs. You can touch them as much as you'd like to." And with that, she placed my hand directly on her breast. I reached out for the other one, taking both of her beautiful tits in my hands. I cupped them, squeezing them gently, and pressed lightly on her nipples with my thumbs. She smiled at me encouragingly.

"Do you like them? They're not what they used to be, and they sag a little now."

"Carol, they're beautiful."

She beamed down at me, and she started stroking my hair as I squeezed her boobs. On a whim, emboldened by what she'd already allowed me to do, I leaned forward and kissed her nipple.

"Oooo!" She exclaimed. "That's really nice."

She carried on stroking my hair, while I kissed and sucked on her nipple, squeezing her breast. I switched between them, holding each breast in my hand, kissing and sucking her nipples while she cooed gently, still stroking my hair. Eventually she gently pushed me back.

"Dear that is so lovely, I almost don't want you to stop. But I promised you I'd take off all my clothes, didn't I?"

I nodded, still holding her big boobs in my palms.

She took a step back, and undid the buttons of her trousers. Her pot belly hung over the tight waistband every so slightly, and her tits shook as she pushed the trousers down. Then she threw the trousers to one side.

"Tada!"

She was wearing the very knickers that I'd nearly taken from her laundry pile. Through the material, I could see a dense thatch of pubic hair; her bush extended past the knickers, with grey and dark hairs poking out of the sides. She looked down and shrugged.

"I'm sorry about not being very tidy down there, I know young folk like you find it disgusting, but my generation didn't mind it."

I shook my head. "No. It's lovely. I mean..." I licked my suddenly dry lips. "You look fantastic."

By now my penis was raging, pushing hard against my jeans. She looked down at my crotch again, and at that moment I knew I wanted nothing more than to pull off my belt, rip at the buttons of my jeans, and pull them and my boxers down - to show her the effect that she had on me. I just wanted to show her my hard dick.

"Carol... Could I show you my cock?"

She beamed at me. "Oh darling, I'd love to see it!"

I stood, pulled off my T-shirt, and started pulling at my belt. She shifted around me, and sat down in the chair, watching me pulling off my trousers. The thought of being naked in front of her, showing her my raging cock, suddenly felt immensely arousing. I quickly stepped out of my trousers and underpants, my cock pointing straight upwards at sprung free. It looked huge, the veins standing out in sharp relief. In that brief moment, I felt insanely proud of it. She stared at it, her eyes wide.

"Oh my."

She reached out tentatively, and then stopped herself, looking up at me. "Dear, do you mind if I hold it? I haven't held a man's willy in my hand for so long."

I nodded. "I'd love you to."

She reached out with both hands. She cupped my balls in one hand, and then wrapped the fingers of her other hand around the shaft of my penis.

As soon as I felt her grip me, I could feel myself getting close. My breathing quickened. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out for long. She looked at my cock and balls, and then carefully peeled back my foreskin, all while biting her lower lip slightly.

"Darling, you have such a lovely willy. It's so much bigger than my husbands was - and I love the shape of the tip. I bet that would feel lovely for a woman, as it went inside. And you have such lovely big hairy balls."

The tip of my cock was now less than an inch away from her lips. She looked up at me, her eyes shining. Then she gave both my cock and balls a light squeeze. At that moment, I lost any semblance of control, and a thick spurt of hot semen hit her directly in the face. She gasped - "oh!" - and laughed. Not flinching, she quickly tightened her grip around my dick and wanked me, pumping my cock hard. A further three bursts, one after the other, showered her face with thick ropes of cum.

Even after I was spent, her left hand remained curled around my balls, and with the fingers of her right hand she was gently stroked the shaft of my now semi-erect cock. Her face and hair were now covered in my semen, and it was slowly dripping down onto her big breasts. But she made no attempt to wipe it away. Instead, she carried on gently stroking my penis, running her fingers around the edge of my tip, and up and down the shaft.

As my breathing slowly went back to normal, I started to feel bad about the mess I'd made. "I'm so sorry Carol. Can I get a towel?"

She shook her head, emphatically. "Don't be silly dear. You obviously needed it. I've never seen so much cum. No wonder your balls felt so big." She then ran a finger along her face, took a big globule of semen on her fingertip, and put the fingertip into her mouth. Then she licked her lips. "Mmm. It even tastes lovely." Then she stood up, and wiped my cum down onto her breasts, making circular motions around each tit. "My friend Agnes always says that cum is the best thing for the skin. We always laugh about the fact that we'll never get the chance to find out. Just imagine if she saw me now." I watched as she wiped my semen around her face, neck, and breasts, thinking it was the single most erotic thing I'd ever seen. It was like she was bathing in my essence. Then she licked her fingertips, and leaned back against the table.

"Now. Would you like me to take off my knickers for you now? If not it's perfectly fine. I can make you some lunch-"

I interrupted her. "No, I'd really like to see you naked, if that's still ok."

She laughed. "Of course it is. Now, let me show you my bum first."

She turned around, pushing down her French knickers. Her bottom was big and curvy; I could see dimples, and a fair amount of cellulite. But it looked amazing. Just what I'd always pictured. Amazingly, my cock twitched. She looked back at me.

"If you want me to do a pose, I don't mind!"

There was laughter in her voice, but it was light, and well meaning. She wasn't mocking me - she really meant it. I cleared my throat.

"Would you bend over the table for me?"

She didn't hesitate. She bent over, lying on her front on the kitchen table. As she bent over, the cheeks of her ass separated. I could immediately see her small pink asshole, then a few hairs leading towards the lips of her vulva. Those lips were puffy, and a deeper pink than the rest of her skin - and they were covered with a light sheen of moisture. I realized, somewhere in the back of my mind, that this probably meant she was aroused. Her pussy was also absolutely covered with that thick thatch of grey-brown hair that I'd glimpsed through her knickers.

I breathed. "Oh my god."

She looked back at me, concerned. "I'm so sorry darling if it's not what you wanted to see. I'm afraid I'm just getting older. I don't suppose the view is that nice."

I shook my head, forgetting she couldn't see me. "No. I don't mean that. It's just... your pussy is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Oh!" She laughed. "Well, in that case, perhaps I should lay down and give you a better look. But I might need to go somewhere more comfortable."

She took my hand, and walked me into her living room. Then she lay down on her couch, and spread her legs wide. She smiled at me again, occasionally looking down to my penis, which by now was semi-erect.

"I have to say, it's actually quite exciting showing myself to you like this. I always get quite turned on after a life drawing session, and I often have a glass of wine, and spend a little while touching myself. But I haven't felt this sexy for ten years. After I've made you dinner, I think I'll need to pour myself a glass of wine and relieve myself. Having you cum on me like that is the sexiest thing that's ever happened to me."

I had absolutely no intention of leaving Carol to satisfy herself. This was my first time with a woman, and I didn't really know what to do; but I seen enough porn to have some ideas. I kneeled down in front of her, leaned forward, and - before she was able to say anything - I gently kissed her pussy.

She gasped, audibly. "Oooooooooh!"

I started swirling my tongue around the opening of her pussy, all the while taking in her beautiful musky scent. Then I started circling around her clitoris. She reached down to me, stroking my hair, her arms shaking.

"Oh, you gorgeous young man, that feels so good..."

I carried on lapping at the hooded nub of her clitoris, the frequency of my motions getting quicker and quicker. Then she moaned, incredibly loudly, her entire body tensing. I looked up, and saw her big heavy boobs shaking. Then she moaned out loud again, crying out repeatedly. Finally, she tapped my arm, and I slowed gradually to a stop. She looked down at me, moving hairs from out of my face while I carried on gently kissing the lips of her pussy through the thatch of her pubes. Her eyes twinkled, the crows' feet contracting around the sides.