Erica & Mr. Hargreaves

Erica could feel her next orgasm already mounting, and she knew it would be stronger and longer than her last. John, she didn't know his last name, he had come to the apartment earlier that day to fit the new bathroom tiles, wanted to kiss her. She parted her lips and felt his tongue seeking out her own, as both muscular organs engaged in a wet, little dance in her mouth.

After a few moments she turned her head away to catch her breath and caught her reflection on the black surface of the wide screen TV. She was sandwiched between the two much older men. Except for his legs, the plumber was barely visible beneath her, but she could still feel his dick pumping seed into her dilated anus, and the tiler's big, hairy arse continued to pump his rod into her pussy as her own legs, clad in thigh length black stockings and five-inch, pencil high heels, were crossed over his hairy back and pulling him forward rhythmically by way of encouragement.

Erica came hard. A shudder ran through her body, and she moaned involuntarily before uttering, "Fuck! Ooh... Yeah!" and wrapped her arms around the tiler's head to pull him even tighter. As the sensations exploded throughout every nerve ending in her body, she let out a string of expletives that eventually subsided into a long sigh, that was a mixture of pleasure and pent-up release. She smiled at her own reflection. Mr. Hargreaves was right, she really was a little slut, especially for much older men, and it seemed the uglier the better.

She hadn't always been like this. It wasn't that long ago that she thought of herself as very prim and proper, a credit to the convent school where she had been educated. But that had all started to change when old Hargraves groped her relentlessly while sitting beside her on the bus during their return from the annual Dale Corporation's Halloween party.

She had taken a seat next to the window, feeling lucky to have found a place for her and her boyfriend, Stuart, on the already crowded vehicle. For the event, the company had scheduled two buses to take everyone home. One departed at ten thirty and the other at midnight. However, no one wanted to leave early, and that included Erica and Stuart, they were having too good a time, so the first bus left only half full. Now everyone crammed aboard the last bus, talking loudly, some singing, and very soon there was standing room only.

"Here, take my seat", she heard Stuart say as he stood up leaving his place beside her empty.

"No dear boy, I couldn't possibly separate you from your lady friend." It was an older man, possibly in his sixties, who spoke. Erica had been introduced to him earlier as Mr. Hargreaves, the company's senior accountant. He was tall and lean, with a large bald dome of a head and a thin, hooked nose. His glasses were of an old-fashioned style, oversized thick glass encased in black frames. He reminded Erica of Uncle Junior from the Sopranos. It was fancy dress and he had come as a vicar. Something of a cop-out, thought Erica, as it only required wearing a black suit and a white, clerical collar instead of a necktie.

"It's no trouble", said Stuart brightly. He was still working through his probationary period in the financial accounting department at Dale's and was eager to make a good impression, especially with the senior staff. He had come dressed as a pirate complete with tricorn hat and an eyepatch that he had quickly tired of wearing over his eye and pushed up onto his forehead.

"Please, have my seat as well", said Erica attempting to get to her feet and feeling obligated to make the same offer to the woman who stood behind Hargreaves. Her name was Betty Crabtree, and she ran the personnel department. She had fiery red hair that came from a bottle and had come dressed as a tart, in a bustier and miniskirt with fishnet stockings that fell far short of the helm line of her skirt. Erica thought it was a bold choice of costume for a mature woman of her age because her huge, creamy boobs threatened to spill out of the bustier and the skirt was straining at the seams to contain the expanse of her arse.

Betty and Hargreaves appeared to have come to the party as a couple, although Stuart had told her the older pair were not in a relationship, as far as he was aware, but were just co-workers of long standing.

It seemed natural for the much younger Erica to offer up her seat as well.

"No, my dear, I won't hear of it", said Betty, almost shouting over the din of drunken conversations and laughter. "You stay where you are, my love. I'm happy to stand. The exercise will do me good and if we hit any bumps, I'll just grab onto Stuart here for support. Then she let out a loud and cackling laugh as if she had said something outrageously funny.

Before Erica could move any further, Hargreaves plonked himself down beside her. She looked to Stuart with concern but found that he and Betty were already being pushed further back along the aisle of the bus, as the remaining revellers continued to cram onboard.

Erica immediately felt uncomfortable. It wasn't just that she and Hargreaves sat shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. In her case a bare thigh because she had dressed for the event as a wayward schoolgirl in her old tartan skirt that was now far too short and white ankle socks that, together with her high heeled pumps, fully displayed her long sculpted legs. Her disquiet also stemmed from the manner in which Hargreaves and Betty had breezily separated her from Stuart, almost as if they had coordinated their actions. It was all too similar to what they had done at the party.

During the latter part of the evening, when just about everyone had hit the dancefloor for some alcohol infused shape throwing, Hargreaves and Betty approached their table. Erica and Stuart had only just sat down to take a rest after a very energetic mix of tunes spun by the DJ. Much to her surprise, the old man immediately asked Erica up to dance. She felt as if she couldn't really refuse, not with Stuart wanting her to be sociable to his superiors, so she took Hargreaves's offered hand as he led her to the dancefloor. When she looked over her shoulder at Stuart, she found that he was asking Betty to dance. She assumed he felt obligated as it was just the two of them left at their table.

Erica thought little of it at the time. Old man Hargreaves didn't look as if he had more than one dance in him and she assumed she'd be back at the table with Stuart in no time. However, just as they stepped onto the floor, the disco lights dimmed, and the DJ began to play what turned out to be a long set of slow songs. The sort of golden oldies that make lovers hold each other close, as they shuffle around in tight circles.

As they danced, Hargreaves placed his arms around her waist and pulled her close, crushing her ample breasts into his chest. While he never seemed to consciously grope her, the palm of his hands came to rest upon the upper quadrant of her firm butt cheeks. Their movements, which were fluid and slow, occasionally brought something hard and penetrating into contact with the lower part of her stomach. Erica almost laughed aloud. Hargreaves had a stiffy, the dirty, old goat.

Just as soon as the music reverted back to songs of a quicker tempo, Hargreaves escorted Erica back to the table, then went off to the bar to get them both a drink. Sitting alone for a moment, Erica presumed Stuart was still on the dancefloor with Betty, although she couldn't see them through the gyrating crowd. She could only hope he was back to her before Hargreaves.

As the bus pulled out, the driver dimmed the lights and someone from the back began to sing Living Next Door to Alice, while everyone else waited for the moment to scream the unofficial chorus of "Alice? Alice? Who the fuck is Alice?"

Erica was relieved that the noise of the other passengers made the prospect of polite conversation impossible, for she hardly knew what to say to Mr. Hargreaves. She certainly didn't want to come across as shallow or stupid and prove to be an embarrassment to Stuart. Her boyfriend liked working at the Dale Corporation and believed his prospects there were very bright, so long as he stayed on the right side of senior management.

Erica and Stuart had begun to step out with each other when they were both sixteen. Neither had ever been with anyone else. Back then she was still a tall beanpole of a girl, and he was the only boy to take an interest in her. When her body stopped shooting upwards, she began to fill out in other places and it wasn't long before all those boys who had previously ignored her, now took a second look, for she had developed a wondrously round, shapely arse and had sprouted large gravity defying tits that now in her early twenties required a 32 DD bra, and she was not sure they had stopped growing.

By the time Stuart had gotten his job in the accounting department at the Dale Corporation, the young couple had been living together for over a year. They had their ups and downs, but she loved him, despite his all too eagerness for sex. She put up with his demands when she ran out of excuses, and shot down any notion of being experimental, but she still had misgivings about it, because they were not yet married. She supposed that was partly due to the nuns who educated her and partly because, in truth, she never got much pleasure from the act itself. She only ever neared orgasm during masturbation, but the nuns had also managed to instil in her feelings of guilt and indecency on those rare occasions she indulged herself.

The party seemed to have taken its toll on Hargreaves, for he leaned back and closed his eyes. Within a couple of minutes Erica felt his head resting on her shoulder. He must have fallen asleep. She tried to gently push him back into an upward position without waking him, but he soon slid towards her again, so she left him where he was, although his hot breath on her neck sent a series of tingling shivers down her spine.

Curiously, when he had sat down, Hargreaves had placed his overcoat across his lap in a seemingly careless way that covered Erica as well. She would have pushed the garment aside only the coat prevented her long, bare legs from being exposed to the late October chill and she welcomed the warmth it gave. She only became aware of the disadvantage of having a stranger's coat upon her lap when Hargreaves's hand burrowed beneath it and fell upon the flesh of her thigh. When his fingers began to massage her leg in a slow rhythmic manner, it seemed to prove the old man was only pretending to be asleep.

Hargreaves cautioned himself to be patient and resist the temptation to move his hand higher up her leg, just yet anyway. It had taken all the self-control he could muster not to maul her on the dancefloor. As they danced, he could feel her ample, firm tits pressed against his chest, and it was all he could do to stop taking a proper hold of the cheeks of her arse which seemed to be crying out for a good squeeze. With some difficulty he had managed to keep his raging hardon from pressing into her pubic bone for most of the time. Her bellybutton was exposed because she had tied the ends of her blouse into a big knot at the front, in keeping with her schoolgirl costume, but when his hardened cock did make contact with her flat stomach, it sent a wonderful, thrilling sensation throughout his wiry frame. Too much of that and he knew he would have come in his pants.

God, she was gorgeous. Startling blue eyes and long blonde hair that she had gathered into two bunches. She was on the tall side. His normal preference was for women of a smaller stature with a generous arse and ample tits, but there was no doubting Erica had all the right bumps and curves in all the right places.

Just as soon as Hargreaves and Betty had seen the young couple at their table during the party, they set their sights on splitting them up and chancing their luck with their respective targets.

They had an unspoken pact for such occasions. If they both ended up with nothing better, than they would at least have each other at the end of the night. Not that Betty was a poor consolation prize. He had never met another woman who knew her way around a man's dick as expertly as Betty did. Younger women could learn a lot from the likes of her. It was all very well looking young and hot in a way that attracted stares and wolf-whistles from men, but younger women tended to place too many rules about what they would do during sex and where they would do it. Old sluts, like Betty, learnt long ago to embrace sex with good-humoured enthusiasm. It was a quality that quickly won over any reservations a horny young man might have about her looks and age. Even now, he thought, she's probably got her hand down Stuart's trousers giving him a discrete but expert hand job, cupping his balls, before tracing her long, painted nails up along the shaft of his cock and applying pressure to the head. He knew from experience, that if she somehow managed to get the boy into a quiet corner at the back of the bus, he was in for the best blowjob of his young life. Stuart might love his girlfriend and want to stay faithful, but when Betty set her sights on a conquest she rarely failed.

Erica was in a quandary. She wanted the old man to stop massaging her thigh, but she didn't want to make a scene. That would embarrass Stuart and might even have consequences for his career at the corporation. Delving her own arm beneath the fabric of the coat, she removed Hargreaves hand from her leg with a no-nonsense firmness and returned it to his own lap. To her initial relief the old man did not resist. For a moment, she even wondered if he was indeed asleep, and that his groping was an unconscious action, merely the acting out of a dream he was having, the randy, old goat.

She was quickly disabused of this convenient notion when Hargreaves's hand, still under cover of his coat, darted out and grabbed her wrist. She tried to pull away, but he proved surprisingly strong for an old man. Slowly, he drew her hand towards him and pressed her palm down firmly on his crotch.

Beneath the thin fabric of his trousers, she was forced to make contact with the contours of his erect penis. She was shocked. It wasn't just the simple and disturbing fact that the dirty old man leaning into her was sporting a raging hardon, it was the tactile impression she had of its length and girth. Due to her inexperience with men, she had only Stuart's penis as a standard. Hargreaves's felt much bigger, and she had the mental image of a great throbbing, gnarly thing with pulsing veins and ridges.

Erica's nipples popped. She could feel them harden against the soft material of her bra. They were always the most sensitive part of her body, but Stuart rarely paid them enough attention during their brief and routine bouts of foreplay. On those occasions she succumbed to masturbation, she spent much of her time pinching and kneading her nipples until her pussy was wet and lubricated enough for her fingers to finally venture down below. Distracted by a confusion of thoughts, sensations, and emotions, it took her a moment to realise that Old Hargreaves had released his hold on her wrist, yet she was still squeezing the outline of his stiff erection. Coming to her senses, she withdrew her hand immediately.

Hargreaves was a cunning old pervert. Despite the sort of amusement to be had from older women such as Betty, ultimately, he preferred younger, less experienced women. It was so much more fun to corrupt them. Chipping away at their reserve and inhibitions until he had tapped into their innate sluttiness and had them craving his cock. He possessed little on the surface that would attract young beauties like Erica, but he was possessed with an impressive eight-inch dick when standing at full mast, and it had rarely failed him yet.

Even after their brief tactile exchange, Erica had not made a scene nor called out to her boyfriend. Indeed, she hadn't even lifted his coat from across her lap, and he couldn't fail to notice how she had bitten her lower lip for a moment as she continued to massage his raging cock even after he'd released her wrist. A smile crossed his face even though he was still pretending to be asleep. He suspected this gorgeous young thing was a twenty-four-carat slut once you scratched the surface.

With very little delay, Erica felt the old man's hand return to her thigh. This time it was placed higher up at the helm of her short skirt and the kneading of his fingers had become more insistent. Her impulse was to remove it as before, but she hesitated when she realised that would only give him another opportunity to return her hand to his cock. His big, gnarly old man's cock. The thought caused her to feel a hot blush, but not just in her face, the heat was also manifesting itself somewhere much lower.

Hargreaves moved his hand up under her skirt and Erica found her legs responded by widening of their own accord. In her mind she thought of Hargreaves as a disgusting old man, but it seemed her body felt differently and was out to betray her. Her nipples were as hard as bullets, and she could already feel a dampness accumulating in her panties.

Erica looked around hoping to make eye contact with Stuart or, failing that, strike up a conversation with someone else. Anything that might bring an end to the old man's groping. However, no one else was paying them any attention. Even those people standing in the aisle had their backs to them. It was ironic that in such a small and crowded place it seemed she was trapped with Hargreaves in their own little private bubble.

The hand was all the way up her skirt now. The old man pulled on the dampened material of her panties and drew it away from her mound, so his bony forefinger could part the outer lips of her vagina and feel the full extent of her wetness.

"Oh, you little slut", he whispered into her ear, "you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Through clenched teeth, Erica replied, "Stop this. Stop it at once or I'm going to scream."

"Go on then", whispered Hargreaves with his head still resting on her shoulder.

"Cause a scene. See what Stuart makes of it all when I show him my fingers covered in your juices."

The old man was much less confident than he sounded but gambled that the girl would realise it was too late for indignant protests, that moment had long since passed. To emphasize his dominance, he removed his hand from her pussy and brought his lubricated fingers to his nose and smelt her arousal fluids before tasting them. "Ah, delicious. There's nothing that compares to the taste of young pussy."

Erica should have been appalled by his action. However, she began to realise the disgust she felt at the old goat's behaviour was at a cerebral, rational level, or why else would she need to suppress the urge to allow her own fingers to dive beneath the folds of the coat and wallow in her wetness.

Wanting to deny her arousal, if only to Hargreaves, she said, "You're nothing but a filthy, old pervert. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Hargreaves responded by returning his hand beneath and taking hold of her panties and tugging at them roughly. Erica had to raise her butt cheeks off the seat in order to stop the old man from ripping the garment. Now that her pussy was unguarded, he immediately inserted his forefinger deep inside her. The penetration was made easy by the copious amounts of vaginal fluids her body was generating. Erica could not stop a pleasurable moan from escaping her lips. Her hand dived beneath the coat to meet his. Her intention was to pull the old man's hand away, but the wave of pleasure that his inserted digit instantly generated, caused her to simply hold onto his wrist, but not resist his attentions.

When Hargreaves inserted a second finger and began to gently flick the hood of her clitoris with his thumb, it was all Erica could do to resist moving her hips in response to the old man's ministrations and grinding herself on his hand. She closed her eyes and rested her head back. It wasn't long before she felt the glowing ambers that heralded the rapid build-up of an orgasm. Something she had never encountered at the hands of another. How did she end up in this situation? A decrepit old man was fingering her to orgasm on a crowded bus while Stuart was somewhere at the back, but she was too far gone now to care that the circumstances were all wrong and, just this once, she was willing to compromise herself, the sensations inside her were not to be denied.