First Olive and Then Her Daughter

My usual neighbourhood fantasy genre. One I've written just as an idea grabbed me, and as local lockdown has been reimposed in the UK.

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I kept being distracted by Olive Evans going backwards and forwards to her car on the drive, in the house opposite.

Ever since I'd been on my own I'd fancied her from afar, even though she was married. No wonder, she was an absolute stunner. Tall, blonde, generously proportioned, with shapely thighs, large breasts, and rounded ass.

I was in the middle of washing my car, and after she'd waved across the road the first time, I kept glancing over at her. It was a warm summer's day and her shorts and t-shirt were showing her best assets to the world.

Living alone since my wife had passed on, having someone attractive like Olive, and her daughter Stacey, living opposite reminded me that my hormones were still shaking about.

But it was strange the way she hung about, fussing over items that she was putting in the car, almost seemingly wanting me to say something.

I didn't, until she came over.

"Mike, did you get that email from the neighbourhood watch group? The one about the scam builders?"

It seemed a slightly innocuous question, and she followed it up with an equally odd one about something to do with who I'd used to trim some trees in my garden. And then came the reason why she'd provoked the conversation.

I wasn't sure if there was a bit of a glint in her eye when she casually said, "Stacey saw you in town yesterday, you did know that she works at 'Hair Davide' on Market Street?"

I began to stumble over my reply, and my face must have told it all, "Oh...yes...no I didn't...er...I was...er...getting a new battery...my watch...it packed up."

My heart had sunk, I had quickly realised that 'Hair Davide' was opposite a wedding boutique, at the side of which was an alleyway leading to the massage parlour I had been to. Stacey had put two and two together and told her mum.

Olive smiled and had confirmed in her own mind the truth of the situation.

"Mike, I guess Stacey was always a nosey girl, you know this town, it's like a village, everyone knows everyone else's business," and as she turned to go back home she added, with a smile, "By the way, my car needs a wash too!"

Lamely I replied, "Thanks Olive, I'll give it a quick once over if you like?"

"No, don't worry, David will do it at the weekend, and then seemingly as an afterthought, "Come over for coffee when you're finished."

I was a bit surprised, but watching her rear as she crossed the road, I wasn't going to refuse.

"Ok, thanks, I'll be over in a bit."

When I'd done I quickly went indoors, splashed myself with some water, and changed into something decent, before I knocked on Olive's door.

"Come in Mike, here sit down on a stool, I'll put the coffee on."

I watched her as she got the mugs, and switched on the machine. Apart from a couple of neighbourhood barbecues, I'd not had a chance to study her closely. She smelt divine, and her waist was accentuated by her perfectly rounded buttocks tightly encased in her denim shorts. I was sure there was a hint of nipple showing through the bra beneath her white t-shirt.

"Let's go through to the conservatory, I'll carry these."

She led the way and gestured for me to sit on the long rattan sofa. She placed the mugs of coffee on the table in front of us, and sat down beside me. The bare thighs were that close, and I could see every pore on her tanned skin. She was amazing for a woman in her fifties.

"It must be difficult living on your own, how long has it been Mike?"

Olive seemed genuinely interested in my situation as a widower.

"Six years now, but I'm used to it," I said, as I sipped my coffee, "you get into a routine, and it gives you great independence."

"But you must get lonely?"

Olive was studying my face as she half turned towards me.

"It's ok, I see my two sons every couple of months, mostly at theirs."

I was becoming more relaxed now that the conversation was beginning to flow.

"And I can go on holiday whenever I want to, now I'm retired."

As I relaxed back into the deep cushions, I folded my arms.

"Oh, I envy you that space you have, sometimes when both Stacey and David are home I want to scream when they start arguing."

Olive was opening up now and as we chatted she seemed to relax too.

"So why don't you get a part time job, a couple of days a week?"

She laughed, "Yes I've thought of that, maybe in a primary school."

She shifted slightly as she put her mug of coffee down, and I got another hint of her perfume wafting towards me.

"That would be brilliant, you'd be good with young kids I'm sure."

"Well it would keep me out of trouble!"

"I'm not sure we'll pursue that." I chuckled.

"Hmmm, probably a good idea," she replied.

Then something happened that took me by surprise. As I was sitting with my arms folded, enjoying the conversation, Olive reached out for her mug, drank the rest of her coffee down, and settled back into the cushions, but as she did so her body was just about touching mine.

The chatting continued with Olive asking about what I did with my spare time.

"Do you have any hobbies, how do you fill your day, apart from going into town?"

I must have blushed slightly, as she seemed to refer back to Stacey's sighting of me. At that moment my fingertips felt her lean towards me. I was tempted to unfold my arms, but I kept them folded, and her breast was definitely against my fingers. I kept them absolutely still, and for a brief moment I enjoyed the sensation, and really I was quite expecting her to pull away. But she didn't.

"I'm into photography, and of course the garden, and my car."

"And visits into town!"

She didn't want to leave it alone, so I thought I'd bring a reaction. Very gently I moved my finger, just gliding it half an inch over the cotton fabric.

"I'm never gonna live that down am I?"

And as I slid my finger back, she replied, "No, and I hope, for your sake, it was only Stacey that saw you!"

Olive shifted her bottom slightly, and now there was no doubt she knew what was happening.

"Like you said, it's a small place," I replied, and as I spoke I moved my finger a bit further, suddenly finding myself touching her nipple.

"Well, this conversation is interesting, I'm sure there's a lot more to find out about each other," Olive was still not pulling away, adding, "I hope so,"

"I'm learning all the time," I replied.

"Me too."

"Shall I stop?" We both knew what I meant.

"Perhaps you'd better."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because it's ..." she stopped, catching her breath.

Olive's nipple was now between my finger and thumb and had grown considerably. She suddenly pulled away and got up, and took the coffee mugs into the kitchen without saying anything else.

I got up and followed her, "I'm so sorry Olive, I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry."

"It's ok Mike, I should apologise to you! I've been teasing you about something that's personal, private. I know you've probably not had much sex since Margaret passed away, but believe it or not, I'm pretty much the same. Me and David never do it now, it's been years with me too."

Olive sat down on one of the stools.

"Hey, I didn't realise, I guess it's just years of being married and life getting in the way. I'm sorry, anytime you want to talk about it..." I still wasn't sure if I'd gone too far.

For a moment she gathered her thoughts, "Did you have full sex with that prostitute?"

I must have looked horrified, "It wasn't a prostitute," and then I corrected myself, "I guess maybe it was. No, she just...well ... masturbated me."

"What did you feel like after?"

"Hmmmm...the usual physical relief, but guilty, guilty that I'd had to pay."

"And how much did it cost?"

"Seventy quid." I looked totally ashamed.

"And was that the first time?"

"No, the second."

"With the same girl?"

"No, two different ones."

Then out of the blue she said, "I could do that for you for nothing!"

My face must have looked a picture, and I had no time to say anything before Olive had stood up beside me and begun to unzip my trousers.

"DO NOT SAY A THING!" Olive looked at me and almost shouted it.

I started to protest before she shouted again.

"NO!"

In a second her hand had found its way inside the opening to my boxers, and flipped my cock out into the open. It was still semi hard after my brief encounter with Olive's nipple, and in no time her squeezing and stroking had made it erect.

"Just don't say a word," she was now speaking more quietly, as she began to stroke my cock faster.

I found myself backed up against the breakfast bar, and gripping the edge with both hands beside me.

In silence, apart from my rapid breathing Olive went about her task, and in a matter of minutes, the end came.

She heard me groan, and directed the jet of semen onto the kitchen floor, where I continued to spurt, until it became just a gentle dribble.

"There! that was cheap, buy one get one free, only seventy quid and you can have a free one tomorrow!"

I really wasn't sure whether to laugh, but thank goodness Olive did.

Passing me a piece of kitchen towel, she let me wipe my cock, and simply said, "you see you don't have to pay for it, come back tomorrow and we'll have another go!"

"Olive..."

"Stop it, don't say anything, let me clean up, and if you want, I'll see you tomorrow at ten 'o clock...now off you go!"

I returned home in a bit of a daze, wondering if that had actually happened?

Sitting in my lounge I looked across the road taking in the thought of going back there the next day.

I didn't get much sleep that night, but after a shower and some breakfast I felt vaguely human and rather excited. The excitement rose when after Stacey and David had left for work I saw Olive briefly at her front door as the postman delivered a parcel. There were no shorts or t-shirt, she was dressed in a short dress with a fairly low neck. Was this deliberate?

At a couple of minutes to ten I walked over to Olive's house, and the door opened as I arrived. Sure enough Olive was still wearing the dress and greeted me with a broad smile.

"Have you got your wallet, I'm expensive today!"

I must have looked sheepish because Olive added, "come on Mike, I'm only kidding, your face, I wish you could see it!"

I joined her in the kitchen and decided I needed to lighten up.

"Nice to see a clean floor!"

"Oh, the sense of humour's returned, I'm glad. So can your hooker offer you coffee?"

I was now into the repartee.

"If it leads to sexual counselling like yesterday, then please, I'd love some."

"Go into the conservatory then, I'll bring tissues in case they're required."

I went and sat on the sofa again, but this time when Olive brought the coffee, she placed the mugs on the table and then sat down in the armchair opposite.

"So yesterday was rather a surprise wasn't it?"

"It was when you jumped on me!"

"Ooooh I don't think I went that far, I think you got your seventy pounds worth."

As Olive continued her teasing, she went a step further. With a flourish she uncrossed and crossed her legs, allowing her dress to ride up those gorgeous thighs. When she did it again I saw why. She clearly wore nothing under her dress.

She knew I'd seen, and she went back to her role as temptress.

"So it's a hundred and fifty quid today, have you got that much?"

I was playing along too, "For that much it would have to be worth my while."

Olive stood up and stepped around the coffee table and put one foot either side of my legs. As she looked down at me, legs astride, she suggested, "Put your hand on my knee, go on do it."

I stretched out my hand and felt the warm smoothness of her skin, just inside her knee.

"Slide it upwards...slowly...all the way."

I knew exactly where this was going, indeed where my hand was going.

Her thighs were smooth as silk, and as my fingers ran over the soft but firm flesh, I reached the top. Her labia were plump, her pussy was sumptuously wet, and just as my fingers were about to sample her delights, she stepped away.

"That's what costs the money! Pay up and you can sample the wares."

I went to stand up.

"Mike, this is fun, but I'm scared of doing it here, can we go to yours?"

"Of course, shall we go together, or shall I go first?"

"You go first, nosey Mrs Bradshaw is always looking out of her window."

Walking straight back to mine, Olive was right, my next door neighbour, Mrs Bradshaw had her nose almost up against the glass, always disappointed if she missed out on anything.

Olive followed ten minutes later, walking briskly across the road, giving Mrs Bradshaw food for thought.

"Have you ever had a hooker in your house?" Olive was back in role as soon as she'd entered.

"No, you're the first, and the most expensive, I hope it's worth it!"

Standing in the hall, she put her keys and mobile on the table and approached me and stood on the bottom stair so that she was a few inches taller than me.

"Hookers sometimes don't kiss their punters do they?" She was looking down at me, her face inches away from mine.

"I think that would be a shame, and poor value for money," she went on, "besides, we haven't kissed yet and I want to see what it's like."

"Go on then," I looked into her eyes.

The first touch of lips was just for a second, a little peck, and then Olive's lips parted and our open mouths met for a longer, more desiring kiss. As we pulled briefly apart she said, "Not bad, but I think we're both out of practice."

As we kissed again Olive found my hand and pushed it up under her dress. As she released her grip, I found the soft flesh of her inner thigh once again and my fingers travelled upwards.

There was a sigh of delight as her mouth separated from mine, and my fingers slipped into her wetness.

"Shall we go to bed?" I asked.

"No, I want to do it on the floor like a real slutty hooker!"

I was surprised, saying, "God you really are going the whole way."

"If you're paying top prices you want the real experience,"

Removing my hand, we shuffled into the lounge. Olive was soon fumbling with my belt, and as she unbuckled it, I managed to slip off my shoes. My trousers fell down and I stepped out of them. Looking like a typical punter in boxers and socks, Olive giggled.

"For god's sake get those socks off," she muttered as she pulled her dress over her head and deftly unclipped her bra until she was totally naked.

She made a grab for my boxers and pulled them down.

"I hope you're gonna last longer than yesterday Mr Gibbs, it was a pretty pathetic display and made a right mess on the kitchen floor."

The mischievous expression on Olive's face prompted me to react.

"If you insist on goading me, there could be repercussions young lady," I was definitely playing along now.

Both of us standing there naked in my lounge seemed a bit bizarre.

"I've heard men talk like that before."

Olive definitely wanted a reaction, and she got it.

Grabbing her arm I pulled her sideways, and as I sat down on the sofa, she overbalanced and I pulled her over my lap.

The first slap of the palm of my hand across her bare buttocks brought a yelp.

"Hey, this is not in the contract...ouch! ...," she yelled again.

She began to squirm, her ample breasts squashed against my thighs.

"Owwwww!" the third smack landed, then the fourth, fifth, and sixth, in quick succession.

"Ow!...Ow!...Ow!...OWWW!"...Mr Gibbs...please!"

The use of the formal name told me we were still play acting.

"That's six, are you going to be a good girl, or do you need more?"

"Owwwwww...it hurts...I'll be good...I promise."

I let Olive stand up, and I was a little surprised at how red her backside appeared.

"That hurt!" she looked at me with a woeful expression. "Now you've certainly got to fuck me," and pointing at me, "it looks like you're ready."

The spanking episode had got me aroused and my cock was erect. Olive knelt down and took it in both hands. She lowered her head and I felt the wet warmth of her mouth close around it.

My groan was a sign that I was ready.

Pulling me down on top of her, she lay back on the carpet, and my cock slid straight inside her. Her legs wrapped around me and she gasped loudly.

"Fuck your hooker, Mr Gibbs, fuck her, and cum inside her!"

It seemed years and years since I'd fucked someone on the floor, and immediately, my knees were rubbing on the carpet. Olive was panting into my neck, using all sorts of profanities. I wasn't sure if the swear words were what she usually used when she had sex, or whether they were part of our roleplaying. It really had been years since either of us had fucked anyway!

Somehow we managed to creep across the carpet as we fucked, and we found ourselves almost under one of the armchairs.

Olive managed to roll me to one side and panting, she breathlessly said, "Fuck me from behind, do me doggy style Mr Gibbs."

Quickly she was on her knees, and bent over the seat of the armchair. Spreading her legs, I found her pussy and was inside her again.

"Fuck...yes go on..."

My thighs slapped against her red cheeks, and I gripped her hips, pulling her onto me.

"Fuck, Mr Gibbs...I think I'm going to cum, god...please don't stop...please!"

I could see both of Olive's hands gripping the arms of the chair as she came. Her face was buried in the cushion and she gave a long throaty cry.

I carried on thrusting inside her, as she was whimpering and asking me to cum.

With a grunt I began to shoot deep into her cunt.

"Oh...god that's good...oh fuck, Mike..."

Slowly I withdrew, and Olive stayed bent over the armchair for at least a minute, just giving long moans of, "mmmmmmmmm," until she lifted herself up and groaned, "that was fucking marvellous!"

She finally turned round and sat on the floor leaning back against the chair, looking over at me, and smiled.

"Well that was fun, wasn't it?" I finally said.

"Please, can we do it again?" her face carried a smile.

"What now?" I looked increduously at her.

"Nooooooo...unless you can do it again now?"

"Fuck off," was my reply, and we both burst out laughing.

Olive went upstairs to shower, and when she came back down it was twelve noon.

"I must go, I've got to take my mother to a hospital appointment at three, and Stacey's home on a half day. Mike, this morning was special, but we need to talk. Maybe tomorrow, when we've both had time to think. I really must go now."

The whole morning had been a bit of a whirlwind. I had a shower and a sandwich for lunch and finally sat down to take it all in. I saw Olive leave for the hospital appointment, and Stacey arrive home. I needed to fill the car with fuel so I drove to the supermarket and filled up, and came straight back to find Stacey wrestling with one of her windscreen wipers.

"What's up?" I shouted over.

"It's this sodding wiper!" Stacey was getting very annoyed and losing it.

"C'mon, let me have a look."

Within a couple of minutes I'd sorted the problem, at least temporarily.

"You'll need a replacement, I'll look online and get one for you, it'll last you a few days, if the rain holds off."

Having calmed down, Stacey could see my dirty hands, "Come and wash your hands inside, have a beer as well."

I was a bit dubious, especially if Olive was to come back home and find me alone in the house with her daughter. "It's ok, I can wash up at mine."

"I insist, please!"

"Oh ok, just a quick one."

Slightly reluctantly I followed Stacey indoors and into the kitchen, stopping in the downstairs loo on the way to quickly wash my hands. I sat down on the now familiar stool, and watched Stacey open a beer and pass it to me. She was indeed a younger version of her mother, slightly slimmer, but with similar hips, bum and breasts.