My Summer Job at the Care Home

During the summer holidays I got a part-time job at a local care home as an assistant, a helper of sorts. I did the unskilled but rewarding tasks, like helping the elderly residents get from A to B around the complex, taking them for walks around the gardens, and giving them their pre-arranged medicine, things like that.

I loved every minute of it and the pay was decent, but what I enjoyed the most was helping people who were coming to the end of their long lives. It wasn't a hospice, but still, these residents were anywhere from seventy to ninety-five.

I loved them all, but I had two particular favourites. Ethel and Harry.

Ethel was eighty-one years old. Small and frail, but as wise as an owl with perfectly groomed silver hair. She was mother of four, a grandmother of seven, and a great grandmother of three.

I loved sitting with Ethel and listening to the stories from her youth. She was married for fifty-five years but sadly lost her husband five years ago, which left her unable to cope alone, so she ended up in the care home.

What I loved most about Ethel was her cheekiness. We'd go for a stroll in the big gardens in her wheelchair before she'd ask me for a cigarette. "My treat, dear," she'd grin. Then we'd sit together in the sunshine smoking a Marlboro menthol cigarette before it was time to go back in.

Harry on the other hand was a different kind of likeable. He was also cheeky, but in the most inappropriate of ways, especially when the senior management weren't around. Seventy-four going on twenty-one, Harry was a tall, skinny, cunning as a fox kind of a guy, who was constantly joking with the staff and other residents.

"Never married and I don't have any kids that I know of, Pippa," he said to me one night, after giving him his medicine. "But with all the pussy I've spunked in over the years, I'm sure I have a few of the fuckers out there somewhere," he then gave me a dirty chuckle.

I'd been warned about Harry when I started assisting him. I was also told to take no crap from him and report any inappropriate behaviour. But I took his foul mouth in good spirits, and his innuendos, until one day he told me I had a "fantastic pair of tits".

I told him to behave and carried on with my duties. But then it escalated to him cheekily asking if he could "see my big tits". I laughed and started calling him 'Dirty Harry'.

As the weeks passed it escalated to Harry offering to show me his 'big cock'. He always said it in such a humorous way that I found it difficult to be offended. He was worse than the boys at school. I would remind him that I was only eighteen years old, but that only made him groan like a man experiencing an orgasm. Once when I reminded him of my age, I actually thought he was going to shoot his load.

Harry was harmless though; I didn't fear him and he didn't touch me. He did, however, continue to offer me the chance to see his big cock. I guess he knew I wasn't the type to report him.

One Friday morning in late August, I was pushing Ethel around the gardens. I only had two weeks left, and we were both sad about my imminent departure. But I promised to visit on weekends.

"If my old age doesn't kill me soon then this bloody damn heatwave will," Ethel moaned, wiping a handkerchief across her sweaty brow.

"Just stay indoors this afternoon, Ethel. Drink plenty of water and you'll be fine," I reassured her.

"How's that dirty bastard treating you, Pippa?" she asked.

"Who? Harry?"

"Who else, dear?"

He's still offering to show me his cock," I sighed. "He's harmless though."

"You should teach him a lesson and call his bluff," Ethel coughed.

"I don't doubt for a second that he wouldn't show me, Ethel. I don't want to encourage him."

"No, but when he gets that wrinkly old thing out you can laugh at him. Put him in his place. Why on earth would he think a beautiful young woman like yourself would want to see that disgusting old thing?"

"I think it's for his amusement, not mine," I reasoned.

"Call his bluff, dear. Tell him how disgustingly old and wrinkly it is."

Ethel and I laughed before I joked that she was more keen for me to see it than Harry was. But the old lady had a point. I didn't want to hurt Harry, but I did have a few put downs in the armoury to shut him down.

I eventually wheeled Ethel back inside and went to play a card game with some of the other residents in the common room. Due to the heatwave, I was only wearing a matching black bra and panty set underneath my uniform, but the scrubs were fixed so no cleavage was on show.

At lunchtime I helped hand out the meals, and that's when I saw Harry for the first time that day. Harry, like all the residents, was complaining about how hot and uncomfortable he was.

"Ain't you roasting in that uniform, Pippa?" he asked, taking his packet of cheese sandwiches, sitting in front of his fan.

"Not really," I replied nonchalantly, placing a cold jug of water and a glass of ice down on his table. "I'm only wearing bra and panties." I spontaneously teased him. My own little fun version of payback.

"Cooooor! Really?" he gasped excitedly. "I bet they're a sexy black?" he suggested.

"Good guess," I giggled, then left the room.

Ten minutes later a call for assistance rang on the office board. It was Harry.

"Are you ok, Harry?" I asked. "Is everything alright?"

"Make an old man happy, Pippa, will you love?" he smiled, brushing the crumbs off his chest and lap.

"Depends what you want," I replied, hands on hips.

"Any chance I can see whats underneath those scrubs?" he asked with a wink and a cheeky grin.

I laughed and shook my head. "Don't ring for assistance, Harry, unless you really need something."

"But I really do really need to see your sexy underwear. I can't stop thinking about it. Now I know that's all your wearing underneath your uniform."

"Drink some water, Harry. It'll help cool you down." I left to the sound of 'Dirty Harry' chuckling too himself.

Ten minutes later the call for assistance rang again, and again, and again. Lucky for Harry I was the only one in the office and corridors close by. If my manager caught wind of him needlessly ringing the buzzer every ten minutes he would have been on the end of a right telling off.

"Come on, Pippa, just one flash," he pleaded like a child begging its mother for a treat before dinner.

"No!" I laughed. "Behave yourself!"

"I'll show you my cock?" he offered.

"Why would I want to see your cock, Harry?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

"It's big," he grinned. "Show me your big tits and I'll show you my big cock?"

"Harry!"

"Alright," he waved his hand at me. "How about I just show you my cock then, see what you think?"

"Don't make me report you," I threatened him.

"Ok, ok, but the offer stands if you ever change your mind," he smirked.

"You're relentless," I smiled.

The rest of the afternoon and early evening I was giggling too myself. I also felt a little bit bad for threatening to report Harry. I knew I was having a positive effect on him. Too positive perhaps.

Doing my final rounds that evening, before going home, Harry's door was unusually closed when I went to deliver his medication. I thought he might be chatting with one of the other residents, so I knocked and waited outside with my ear against the door. When I didn't hear a voice telling me I could enter, my immediate reaction was concern. I opened the door and walked straight in.

I screeched. "Oh my god, Harry!" Then looked away. "I'll just put these down on the table for you. Give me a shout when you're done."

Harry apologised whilst chuckling, pulled up his bedcovers and put his iPhone down. "Sorry if I excited, Pippa! Here, pass us those damn tablets," he said.

"I'll leave them on the table for you," I insisted, keen to get out of there.

"Don't be so silly," he gruffed. "Haven't you seen a cock before? I might be ancient but I still have needs, you know."

I stood back and knocked the door shut, gasping as Harry pulled back his bedsheets and slipped out of bed. Glancing at his swinging semi-erection, he smiled at me as he walked towards the table, picked up his tablets and then swallowed them down with his water.

Shell shocked at catching a seventy-four-year-old man wanking, then watching him strut butt naked from his bed, I stood there, staring at his long cock.

"See anything you like, Pippa?" He gave me a dirty chuckle, then returned to his bed.

I continued staring at him, this time at his wrinkly old arse cheeks before he climbed back into bed.

Harry and I glared at each other. He was smiling. I was frozen with shock. This man had no shame, not even around an eighteen-year-old, young enough to be his great granddaughter.

"I've shown you mine, Pippa, now do you fancy showing me yours?" he grinned.

"No! I don't fancy showing you anything!"

"That's what you're here for isn't it? Assisting the residents?" Harry chuckled. "Just between you and I, Pippa?"

"Not that kind of assisting, Harry! No!"

"Did you enjoy catching me? You know, choking the chicken."

"That's disgusting," I laughed, determined not to show him I was embarrassed.

"Wanna know what I was bashing the bishop over?" he tried to antagonise me.

"I dread to think." I rolled my eyes at him.

"An old man fucking the arse off a hot teen like you," he chuckled.

"Gross," I rolled my eyes and collected his empty dinner plate onto the tray. "I hope she wasn't too young."

"Don't be daft!" Harry seemed briefly offended. "It's all above board. I'm not one of those guys. Old man Marvin across the way showed me this porn site. Oldje something or another."

"Charming," I rolled my eyes once more.

Marvin was a short, balding, seventy-year-old man who suffered terribly with arthritis. He was quiet and liked to be left alone. Now I knew why.

"Goodnight, Harry," I muttered, then gathered the glass and tablet pot onto the tray and left. The sounds of Harry's dirty chuckle echoed down the corridor.

That evening in my own bed, I reflected on the incident inside Harry's bedroom. I laughed. I liked Harry. I liked his sense of humour, and when he wasn't being an arse, we actually had sone good conversations. I didn't like to see people being made fun of, but the way he talked about some of the residents also had me in stitches.

I then looked up the porn site he mentioned. Oldje.com. I couldn't believe such a site existed. But of course it did. I watched out of curiosity as a girl around my age was taken by six really old men. It was disgusting seeing how old, fat and ugly the actors were, but then, as I watched deeper into the scene, my body began to react.

They were of course mostly well endowed, and watching the young blonde being serviced by all six men, taking turns to suck them all, while they rotated going down on her, had hardened my nipples and lubricated my pussy.

I slipped a hand under my pillow and slipped my vibrator out from its hiding place. I then turned it on and slipped it between my legs, gently teasing my lips and clit with the low setting vibrations.

As soon as the first big cock entered the blonde, the pink vibrator entered me. I came almost immediately, as the blonde was surrounded and consumed by these old men. She sucked, stroked and was fucked non-stop, while her large breasts were groped.

I then came again, when she led flat on her back on the garden table and received six thick loads of cum. They covered her face and breasts and it was undoubtedly the dirtiest, horniest thing I'd ever seen.

The next day was another hot one. I went into work with a fresh matching red bra and panty set under my scrubs and carried out my usual rounds of helping with breakfast.

When I entered Harry's room with his warm Weetabix, and his favourite newspaper, I decided to sit with him while he read through it and moaned about the state of the country.

"That Boris has been caught with his pants down, I see. A works party! What does he take us for?"

I wasn't really listening. I didn't care for politics. I was busy scrolling through Instagram and Twitter. Then finally, I knew what I wanted to do to wind up Harry.

"Give me your iPhone," I instructed him.

"What do you want that damn thing for? It's in the drawer. I told my nephew not to bother. Smartphones! Huh! Too bloody smart if you ask me! It's only good for porn."

"What's your pin?" I asked, holding is iPhone.

"123456," he replied.

"Seriously?" I laughed.

"Yeah. I need something I can remember," he shrugged.

I laughed again as I went straight for the App Store and downloaded Instagram.

"What's your phone number, Harry?"

"Why? You gonna send me dirty pictures of your sexy body?" he grinned and flashed his eyes at me. "What colour are you wearing today?"

"You wish," I giggled. "What's your number?" Ignoring his last question.

"How the hell should I know. I don't call myself."

"It's ok," I said, getting his number from his settings.

Within minutes I had an Instagram account set up in Harry's name. I quickly took a photo of him in bed and uploaded it as his profile picture.

"What are you doing?" He looked at me puzzled.

"You'll see," I grinned mischievously, getting his account to follow mine, and vice versa.

I handed Harry his phone back and showed him his new Instagram account.

"What the hell have you done?" he laughed. "Whats Insta ... what's that ..."

"Instagram," I giggled. "It's a social media app where users post pictures of themselves."

"What kind of pictures?" He perked and became interested.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. It looks like you have a follower. I'll see you tonight when I'm doing my rounds."

I left Harry curiously confused staring at his phone. I laughed my way out of his room and onto the next resident.

When I returned later that evening, Harry was grinning from to ear, sat in his chair by the window with his phone in his hand.

"Cooooor, Pippa!" he greeted me. "You got one hell of a body. I knew you did, but some of these photos! Wow! Great tits!"

"Keep it down," I giggled, closing the door behind me. "You'll get us both into trouble."

"You know I'm going to be wanking over you everyday from now on, don't you?"

I handed him his medication and blushed. The thought of Harry getting his rocks off over my photos sent tingles up my spine. It was the closest he'd ever get to seeing my body out of the scrubs. It excited me.

The photos were nothing more than selfies doing my make up, dressed to go out, and some with my friends on a night out. I did have several holiday pics though, wearing short skirts, crop tops and bikinis.

As if reading my mind, Harry asked to see me without the scrubs on.

"You already have," I smiled.

"I mean properly. Right here in the flesh. Just a quick flash, Pippa."

"You're never going to stop asking, are you?"

"Nope," he winked.

"I'll make a deal with you," I blushed, not quite believing what I was about to suggest.

"I'm listening," Harry grinned and moved to the edge of his chair.

"If you promise to stop pestering me during my remaining two weeks here, then I'll show you my underwear on my last shift."

"No flirting with you for two weeks?" he moaned.

"Yes! That includes playing with yourself when you know I'm about to walk in to see you."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll swap rounds with one of the other assistants and you end up with nothing," I told him, but not really taking my own threat seriously.

"Ok, but I get to remove your scrubs?" he suggested.

I giggled and swayed, feeling myself blush bright red. Not because of what Harry said, but of the image I had in my head of him doing it.

"No touching. You can only remove my scrubs."

"You got yourself a deal, Pippa!" Harry beamed. "Mr Professional and polite from now on."

"One step out of line and the deal is off!" I warned him with another giggle.

"You have my word, if you'll give me yours?"

I offered a handshake and we secured the deal. I then left the room feeling moisture between my legs. As soon as I got home I logged onto Oldje.com and vibrated my pussy to another dirty scene. This time it was a young, slim brunette getting fucked by three old men with big cocks. The way she took their loads over her firm breasts and angelic face had me climaxing a third time that night.

My last two weeks were a mixture of joy and sadness. I spent hours with Ethel and I updated her that I had resolved the issue with Harry. She didn't need to know it was temporary until the day of my reckoning. We never discussed Harry again.

I also spent a lot of time with the other residents, reading books, playing board games and sometimes just listening to them.

During that time Harry remained true to his word. What came out of his mouth was polite, friendly chatter and jokes, but his eyes continued to wander, and I could imagine the cogs in his head doing over time to keep him in check.

Aware of his constant undressing of me with his eyes, whilst containing his true desires, I was giddy and excited, but I knew if I teased him I'd only cause problems for myself.

Then, as quick as flash, so it felt like, I went into the care home for the final time as an employee.

I did my best to avoid Harry unless it was absolutely necessary. When I did see him he was full of energy and excitement, bursting at the seams, I felt nauseous every time I caught sight of him.

Beneath my pink scrubs I wore a matching pink lace bra and thong. I felt naughty slipping into the under garments before work. Then as the hours passed I became anxious. The anxiety literally drained my energy.

At 8.45pm the shift nurse handed me Harry's medication. I walked along the corridor towards his room trembling.

Could I actually do this? I asked myself. Could I honestly let an old man remove my scrubs and get a good look at my underwear and young body? What the hell was I thinking making such a ridiculous deal with him?

I could of course apologise and tell him I couldn't go through with it. It would disappoint him, possibly anger him, but at least I wouldn't feel ashamed of myself.

What if a fellow member of staff caught us? I'd never live it down. The good reputation I'd built over the summer with the staff would be left in ruins.

But then what about my integrity? I'd made a deal with somebody who kept their side of the bargain. What would that say about me if I chickened out?

Harry's door was ajar when I reached his room. I knocked and entered to find him sitting expectantly on his bed. He was wearing blue chequered pyjama trousers and shirt. Grandad style.

"Good evening, Pippa," Harry beamed at me. "I've been waiting so long for this moment."

"Tablets first," I said meekly, wishing I had let him pester me for a fortnight instead.

Harry quickly took the tablets from the tray and washed them down with the glass of water. "Done!" he wriggled with excitement, rubbing his hands together.

The butterflies in my tummy were going crazy. I closed and locked the door and became very anxious, while Harry was grinning as if he were about to go to heaven.

"Can I begin?" he asked.

"Yes," I mumbled, feeling weak from all the adrenaline that had just flooded my body.

Harry took a couple of excited steps towards me and glared into my eyes. I hadn't anticipated being this anxious.

"I've never seen you so nervous before, Pippa," he sounded more excited. "Don't you want me to do this?"

"I'd rather do it myself. Just a quick flash so we don't get caught," I said, stepping back and bumping into the wall.

"But I held up my end of the bargain, didn't I?"

"You did," I nodded, full of nervous energy.

"So you have to hold up your end, yes?"

"Yes," I nodded, reluctantly.

"I won't hurt you, Pippa. I just want to see what we agreed on. Are you wearing anything other than underwear under those scrubs? It's not been so hot this week."