Not So Sweet Old Phil

Hi, this story is a continuation of my "That Saturday Morning" story. So many people contacted me asking what happened with Phil next, that I thought the least I could do was write something. If you want to understand a little more about Carole, please read that story first.

Either way, I hope you enjoy it.

Carole managed to avoid her neighbor for a few days. She kept an eye out for him and only went outside when he wasn't around. She wasn't working today and was home alone. The heatwave was mostly over and though it was still warm, it wasn't uncomfortable like it had been. Fresh from the shower Carole stood in her bedroom wearing a pair of gray sweat pants and pulling a white T shirt on over her head. She bent forward, throwing her dark red wavy hair forward and blowing it dry with the hairdryer. Somewhere off in the distance she heard a sound, it didn't register. She carried on drying and the sound got louder, at last something clicked.

"Shit..." she swore to herself, switching off the hairdryer and throwing it on the bed, "I haven't put the bins out. Carole rushed downstairs, through the kitchen and out the back door, grabbing the wheelie bin as she went and dragging it down the narrow ally between her house and and the neighbors, and out onto the street.

"haha, come on love, hurry up..." the bin men jeered and laughed at her as she rushed to catch them. The late morning sun shone down the length of the street, and onto her back and left hand side "That's alright love, I got it." one of them said, approaching her with a grin, she thought she noticed him glance at her chest as he took the bin from her.

"Thank you." she replied and feeling it would be rude to just walk away, she waited as he took her bin, to the lorry, attached it to the mechanism and emptied it. She watched as her bin rose into the air, then looked at the bin men, they were both watching her, and looked away when she noticed them. Carole recognized that look and was reminded of what had happened at the weekend. She looked down at her own chest. The sun shone through side of her T shirt making a clear silhouette of her large breasts. Her first instinct was to wrap her arms around her chest to hide them. But as her arms moved, she felt the tingle of nervous excitement in her tummy at the thought of the men watching her, and instead, she raised her hands to her head. As the refuse collector walked toward her with her bin in tow, she pushed her fingers into her damp dark auburn locks and pulled her hair back off her face, shaking her head to loosen the waves.

The stranger watched intently as her soft breasts moved, silhouetted and unhindered beneath the thin cotton T shirt. The short hem lifting to expose the low cut waistband of her jog pants, her little round potbelly and her deep dark bellybutton. "Thank you so much," Carole said as the man returned her bin.

"Your welcome love..." he grinned "anytime." Carole turned to head back to her house, feeling naughty and excited, but stopped suddenly. Stood by her gate, waiting for her, was Phil, the old man from next door. He was a tall slender old man, with thin white hair and long, suntanned, sinewy limbs. Carole didn't know exactly how old he was, but knew he was nearly seventy, she thought. He wore shorts, sandals, socks and a polo shirt, all of which were, of course, immaculate. As was his house and garden, there wasn't a blade of grass out of place. He kept himself fit and active by never stopping doing stuff. He watched Carole as she turned and the grin on his face told her he knew exactly what she had just been doing, it was the same grin he had last time she saw him.

"Hello Carole," he greeted her as her face flushed bright red with embarrassment. Not just because of what he had just caught her doing, but also because of what she was doing the last time he saw her. In fact, that was the main reason he knew what was really going on with the bin men just then.

"Hi." she answered in a timid whisper.

"Here, let me help you with that," he insisted as she approached her front gate, and he took the bin handle from her with one hand while holding the gate open for her with the other. She led the way down the narrow ally beside her house. Her embarrassment growing as she looked up at his window and remembered the grin he had worn as he watched her from there. She glanced back at him and immediately wished she hadn't, he was watching her round bottom in the tight jog pants and looked up when she looked back, with no hint that he had been doing anything he shouldn't. "Any chance of a brew?" he asked as he followed her into the back garden.

"Um, yeah sure." Carole answered, longing to say no fuck off, but she just didn't have it in her, she was really a bit of a push over. They went into the small dining kitchen, Phil sat at the table and watched as Carole made him a cup of tea, and a coffee for herself.

"How have you been?" he asked, "I haven't seen you for a few days."

"I'm okay..." she answered, finding it hard to concentrate. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what was going on. Phil had popped round for a brew plenty of times before of course. Especially since her divorce. But this time it felt different, strained somehow, there was a long awkward silence. "How have you been?" Carole asked, stirring milk into her coffee.

"Oh fine, fine," he answered "are the boys out?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, "both at work today." She pressed the teabag against the side of the cup.

"And you, a day off? When are you in work next?" He continued.

"Tomorrow," she answered, "then I am in for a few days." Carole stirred milk into the old mans tea, there was another long silence as the spoon made little tink tink noises and she waited. She was sure the old man had something on his mind and she was worried that she may be right about what it was.

"I Won't beat around the bush Carole," the old man suddenly burst out "I am a very direct man, always have been. I... I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since Saturday." Carole froze, the spoon falling silent, she stood at the counter with her back to the elderly neighbor. There it was, exactly what she was worried about, direct is right, straight to the fucking point. She didn't move, but stood waiting to see where he was going with this. "I have thought long and hard about how a woman like you would get into such a, ahem, situation. And, well, it seemed to me, that man must have started it, I just can't imagine you doing so." Carole placed the spoon on the counter and then both hands on it to steady herself, she was trembling with nerves, longing for the ground to open and swallow her, anything to avoid this awkward conversation. "But this morning," the old man continued, "I watched you with those bin men, and you were... showing off."

Carole jumped, the chair behind her making a loud scraping sound on the tile floor as the old man got to his feet. "I see now that you want the attention, you crave the attention" he approached her quietly, she leaned on the worktop, unable to move her heart racing. "You long to be noticed, wanted, to be desired, touched." Carole was panting softly, her body quivered as she tried and tried to move, just to get away, listening in horror as the old neighbor described her symptoms perfectly, as if she had told him her deepest secrets herself. She flinched suddenly as his hand came to rest on the deep curve of her waist. "It's okay," he whispered into her ear as the long slender fingers of his other hand pulled her wavy auburn hair back off her shoulder, "I think I understand, I can feel you trembling. Is that with fear, or excitement? I think it's the later."

He moved close, pressing himself into her soft voluptuous body, and placed his lips against her smooth warm neck. Kissing her gently as his fingers slid from her hair and down her back to hold her waist together with his other hand. "P... please Phil," Carole stammered as the old mans lips moved up and down her neck and collarbone, kissing and nuzzling her, "please don't."

"I don't think you mean that. Do you really want me to stop?" Carole tried to speak, her head screaming that this was all wrong, but he was right, she longed for the attention, he wanted her and she couldn't say no. "I can hear you panting, I feel your body trembling. It is something I haven't felt for years, but it was a passion of mine back then, and my wife's, we had an... understanding." Cool hands held her waist gently, caressing her softly under her T shirt. "She craved the attention as well, and I was happy to oblige, as long as I was in control. I thought that had all ended for me, but now." Suddenly the old mans hands moved up inside Carole's T shirt and quickly took hold of her large, soft, warm breasts, lifting and caressing them. His fingers closing on them, pressing deep into the yielding flesh as his mouth opened to devour her neck. With a whimper Carole made a halfhearted attempt to shrug him off, but her head just rolled to one side exposing more of her smooth pale neck and shoulder to him.

"Please..." Carole begged in a pathetic whimper, "please..."

"Shhhhh," the old man hissed, "it's okay, just relax." His fingers squeezed her soft flesh, finding the firm sensitive nipples and teasing them to full erection before pinching them hard and pulling. Lifting her T shirt, hoisting her breasts by the firm dark mounds, stretching the soft skin of her heavy orbs.

"Aaaaahhh..." Carole gasped, gripping the counter tighter, her legs wobbling a little as her nipples sent an electric shock of desire straight to her pussy. "Please phil, aaaahh..." Carole made one last attempt at not giving in, "don't make me."

"Make you?" he asked in a strong, commanding voice, so unlike the sweet old man she knew. "I will make you, make you tear down those walls you have created, walls that have kept you from your true desires, your true passions. You are a beautiful, sensual, sexual woman, and you deserve to be worshiped." As he spoke he moved one hand down over her tummy and slipped it inside her joggers, then pushed it between her thighs. He felt her quiver in his arms as his fingertips brushed her delicate folds through her thin cotton underwear.

"aaaahhhhh... aaaahhh..." Carole whimpered, bending forward over the counter and squeezing her legs together on his hand. She pressed her chest against the counter, pinning his other hand beneath them for a moment until he pulled it free. With her bent over the kitchen counter like that, he couldn't resist and quickly gripped the waistband of her sweatpants in both hands, tugging them and her little white cotton panties down off her firm round bottom in one quick motion. He got a good look at it before she lifted herself off the counter and turned to face him. Her hands clamped together over her groin, her arms squashing her breasts together, the large stiff dark nipples thrusting through the white T shirt. Carole stood with her pants around her ankles, looking up at the old neighbor.

Phil moved closer, taking one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing it, pinching it, rolling it through the thin cotton. Carole looked up at him, a look of despair on her face, but passion in her big soft green eyes. He leaned closer, bending down a little to place his white bearded lips against hers. His mouth moved on her lips, coaxing a kiss from them as his fingers teased her nipple, slowly, she responded. Her mouth opened for him and their tongues twisted together in a long passionate kiss. His free hand took hold of her wrist and eased one hand out of the way, then he did the same with the other before sinking his fingertips into the soft warm mound of hair between her thighs. He pulled his mouth from hers, and looked at her, an intense almost angry look on his face. Carole reacted on instinct and, lifting her feet from the clothing on the floor, she opened her legs for him.

"Good girl," Phil whispered, and slid his middle finger gently over her soft delicate wet folds.

"aaaaaaaahhhh..." Carole moaned as he caressed her, one of his hands moving round to her lower back, holding her as the other eased her open, stroking and caressing it's way into her warm wet pussy. She whimpered as he touched her, and he watched Carole's hips as they trembled and quivered at his touch.

"Take off your top." he said, in a very matter of fact way, and without a second thought now, Carole obeyed. Crossing her arms in front of her to grip the hem before she lifted her T shirt off over her head. As the loose curls of her wavy auburn hair fell back onto her shoulders, Phil stared in awe at her breasts, watching them bouncing and swaying there way back to where they hung naturally.

"Magnificent," Phil whispered almost to himself and Carole placed her hands behind her back, gripping the counter top and pushing her hips forward a little. "mmm, yes, your body remembers what to do, even if your mind has forgotten," Phil said, pushing the palm if his hand against her clit and a long finger deep inside her. Carole gasped and started rubbing herself against him, she watched his face as he watched her body squirm and quiver on his hand. A strange half smile on his face as he watched his neighbor fucking herself. His eyes roamed up and down her curvy body, gazing at her large globes as they rose and fell with her breathing and swayed as she squirmed. He gazed at her little belly as it jiggled and her thick thighs clenched in passion.

He looked into her eyes, suddenly realizing she was watching him. Phil smiled at her, a naughty glint in his eye again, and quickly pulled his hand from behind her, raised it, then brought it back down with a glancing blow on her big dark nipple.

"Aaaaarrghh," Carole screamed, and then quickly moaned as the sudden shock to her soft flesh sent a lightning bolt between her legs. "Aaaahhh fuck.... Mmmmmm." she gasped, her body convulsing as she watched her smacked tit quiver back into shape.

"Aaaahhhhhh... oh my gooo..." she gasped again as he slapped her other breast and big dark nipple. Her hips squirmed and wriggled, grinding herself harder and harder against the old mans hand, her big dark nipples stood hard as bullets, tingling and stinging and she moaned loudly as her orgasm grew.

"Aaaahhh... aaaaahh... aaaaaaarrghhh... yes. Yes," She squealed as the old man from next door stood beside her, fingered her, and slapped her big soft tits again and again. They tingled and hurt like nothing she had ever felt before, even the pain felt pleasurable, like when you pull a splinter from your skin. She gripped the kitchen counter and her body convulsed as her pussy clenched on his fingers, her orgasm flooding through every nerve and sinew.

Before the waves of her pleasure had past, Phil dropped to his knees before her and pushed his face between her legs, quickly taking her soft wet folds into his mouth and sucking them, then licking her, drinking her orgasm hungrily. Her vagina ached, longing to be filled, her orgasm having only succeeded in getting her started. She took hold of his arm and pulled Phil to his feet, her fingers grabbing at the waist of his shorts, unfastening them almost in a panic.

"No," Phil said in a calm, resigned voice and placed a hand on hers pushing them away. "I know you want a cock inside you now, my wife could only take so much before she needed to be fucked. But I can't right now, I'm sorry." Carole couldn't believe what she was hearing, she stared up at him open mouthed, panting and trembling with passion. Her body quivering, her hot pink tits tingling and her pussy aching. "Oh god I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to get you into this state when I can't..." he paused, and suddenly she understood.

"You can't, at all?" she asked breathlessly.

"Not without some help, but I want to, oh god do I want to." He answered.

"And can you get some... help?" Carole asked, as she came slowly back down to earth, her breathing getting back to normal, her electrified body, calming.

"Come round Saturday evening, I will make it up to you, I promise." The old man looked Carole in the eyes expectantly, "say you will?"

"Okay," she agreed, far more easily and quickly than she expected, "what time?" Phil stepped close to her, sinking his fingers into her soft thick hair and pressed his lips against hers. She could taste herself on them, it tasted like sex, she hadn't had that flavor for years and now.

"I'll see you at 9." he said, then turned and left via the wide open back door, stopping at the corner of the house for a moment to look back in the window at his naked neighbor. Carole stood, leaning back against the counter in her kitchen for a moment. She looked down at her body, she could still feel his fingers inside her, and her breasts glowed pink and warm from their beating. She tried to process what had just happened. Half an hour ago she was in her bedroom drying her hair. Now she stood naked, and so so horny, after letting the neighbor bring her to orgasm in her kitchen. She looked at her clothes thrown on the floor, then lifted her eyes and looked out the windows and the open back door, at the neighborhood houses that backed onto and overlooked hers. It didn't even occur to her that anyone of ten households could see her right now.

"What the fuck are you doing Carole?" she asked herself. Thinking about the safe little life she had led for over twenty years and wondering what had happened, what had changed. Men had never looked at her like this when she was married, had they? She thought about Phil, did he really expect her to just turn up on his doorstep, what did he think she was, "No fuckin way." she said to herself, picked up her clothes and got on with her day, trying her best to forget how horny she felt.