tagHumor & SatireOlder Than My Mother

Older Than My Mother


I'm in bed fucking this bitch and she is older than my mother! Hell! Twenty years older than my mother. Flo claimed to be sixty but I'm sure she shaved a good five, maybe even ten years off her age. The bitch might actually be seventy! Seventy years old and still horny as a mountain goat. Hormones I guess.

I just kept pounding away. Her pussy felt okay and she was humping and grunting like a slut. But it was still a damn good thing the room was dark. She wouldn't strip with the lights on. And that was probably a good thing because I don't think I could have got it up in a lighted room if this old broad got naked. At least she wasn't fat. I hate to fuck fat women.

I always filled her up with Vaseline because her pussy was real dry even though she soaked it in estrogen cream. I couldn't see her grey hair or her wrinkles or her sagging tits, but I was fuckin her slow and hard the way she wanted. I had done this old bitch before, and I knew sometimes she was gonna want to cum and then rest a few minutes and then wanna get fucked again. Shit! This was work! She expected me to cum when I fucked her. Said it was important to her pleasure.

Her husband was a big time producer -- one of the guys I was always hoping would see me in a bit part. That could be my big break! But right now I was just a stud he didn't know from Adam. All he knew was that some guy was banging his bitch every other Thursday night so he had to spend the night out. He had no trouble finding a young chick.

One of these days I'll get that break that all the young actors out here are waiting for. I'm 23 and gals think I'm handsome and they're right. I'm muscular but not muscle-bound. I can act when I get the chance. And I got my S.A.G. card which a lot of guys don't have and which gets me much better pay even for a small role as an extra. It takes letters from three directors to get that card. I had fucked one wife and pounded two sets of tonsils to get those letters.

If I get lucky, sooner or later, I'm gonna get a bit part that's perfect for me and just the right producer is gonna see it and I'll be on my way. It's happened to other guys. It can happen to me. I deserve it.

Meanwhile, I have to fuck old ladies. Yeah, that's what I said. Fuck old ladies. Just like I'm fuckin this old lady now. Let me explain.

When you folks in fly-over country see Hollywood you see glamorous, young stars and starlets. You never see the folks who are really in charge. The guys who run things are mostly in their sixties and seventies. You never see them. They have wives.

Some of these guys trade in their wives every few years for a new model -- a fresh young chick. Expensive but effective. Other guys have wives who somehow control half of their money. I don't know how they got control but these wives ... well ... guys have to KEEP these wives. Of course this doesn't prevent them from screwing fresh young chicks, but it does mean that they have to look the other way when their wives get taken care of. And you'd be surprised at how many of these old broads still like to fuck. That's my job. I fuck old ladies.

Not everybody can do that. You gotta be able get it up with elderly pussy. You gotta be able to do what I'm doing now: Ignore the wrinkles and the gray hair and the sagging tits and get it up to pound elderly pussy. Of course a dark room helps.

Shit! Flo's having her orgasm! Hard to tell with this loose pussy but I can hear her groaning. Now I gotta pump hard and cum for the bitch. She expects it. The Vaseline helps. I'll work up a sweat. This is not easy work. But at least she's got a big multi-head shower.

The night had started as usual a couple of hours ago. Flo had led me into her private sitting room adjacent to her bedroom and poured me an expensive brandy. She was wearing a stunning designer gown and her gray hair was immaculate. The plastic job on her face plus her make-up took years off her age. She smiled and made small talk -- all very charming. She was a nice lady and I liked her. She could have been somebody's rich grandmother. In fact I think she WAS somebody's rich grandmother.

After an hour or so of socializing she excused herself and went into the dark bedroom to get naked. After a few more minutes I knocked softly on the door and she invited me in. The room was pitch dark. I got naked and the first thing she did was rub her hands all over my body and feel my muscles.

"Young muscles," she always said. "I love firm young muscles."

Then she wanted her tits played with. Her tits were like two pancakes hanging down from her chest − pancakes with nipples on the bottom edge.

Then she played with my testicles for a while and finally she sucked my dick to get me hard and spread her legs. Exactly the same routine every other Thursday for the past year. But it paid my rent. Indirectly of course. These old broads would never hire a fee-for-service escort stud.

You see I didn't have a real job. I only got real pay when I had a gig as an extra. But my boss at the studio arranged a "job" and paid me a salary in exchange for me fucking old ladies. It's hard to find a stud who can get it up with old ladies so the pay is good. He got something in trade from the gal or her husband but I never knew what. Lots of deals in Hollywood! Just do what you're told. Of course there was more than one old bitch to satisfy. Some in their fifties weren't too bad.

Sometimes in Hollywood it's who you know! A couple of months ago she had given me an introduction to Angie Flynn. That's the big time hair stylist Angie Flynn. Of course I couldn't afford that price tag, but Angie was a reasonably good-looking forty-something blond who liked young guys with muscles. It was a simple deal: Angie took care of my hair and I took care of Angie.

It's hard to explain how very important a special "just for you" hair job is in this town. It changed my whole appearance and got the attention of several directors, one of whom gave me a bit part with two lines of dialogue. Of course I had to keep fucking Angie to keep my hair in shape, but at least I could fuck her in a lighted room. Angie didn't have gray hair and wrinkles.

One of these days, I often thought, I'm gonna fuck a gal my own age. But, of course, most of them are fuckin old guys. Jesus! What a crazy town! Nobody fucks anybody their own age.

I finished my shower and let myself out. The bitch never let me see her with her hair and make-up all a mess. I drove my beat up car back to my beat up efficiency apartment and went to bed. I had a bit to do tomorrow.

Some guy once told me that being in the army is mostly standing around and waiting. Well, that's exactly what acting is. I had been in costume and make-up all morning and I had skipped lunch and the director still hadn't shot the scene. It was about the Italian Renaissance and I was carrying a fake painting by Raphael and dressed as Cesare Borgia's servant. Then suddenly, one take and it was over. I headed back to the locker room to change. No private dressing rooms for extras!

As I was heading out of the studio my boss grabs my arm.

"Got a job for you," he said.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Your favorite boy dancer," he said. "He needs a back rub."

Oh shit! That guy was a star and all the girls thought he was handsome and sexy. But as a few of us knew he was as queer as a three-dollar bill. I had rubbed his back before and it was always the same routine. Rub his back for about five minutes. Then he unzips your fly and sucks you off.

"Can't you find someone else?" I asked with a big sigh.

"He asked especially for you," my boss said. "He's in the dressing room with the big star on the door."

I headed down the hall and knocked on the door.

"Come in," he said.

As I entered he said, "Lock the door."

He was laying on a padded table on his belly with a towel over his ass. I assumed he was naked. He had that arrogant macho expression on his face that women loved. I walked over and he handed me a tube of ointment, which I rubbed on his back between his shoulders and began to massage his shoulder muscles. He dropped his arms loosely off the table and after several minutes I felt his hand on my crotch gently massaging my testicles.

He unzipped my fly and his exploring fingers found my dick, which he began squeezing and stroking. Then he pulled it out of my pants and in one swift movement he was off the table onto his knees in front of me sucking my cock. I had to admit that he had a talented tongue. My dick sprang to attention.

As I had suspected he was naked and he had a huge erection. He was hung like a stallion. All those admiring gals across the country would be happy to know that this muscular stud was as well hung as they had hoped. Except, of course, he was on his knees sucking a dick and jacking himself off rather than doing what his admirers expected him to do with the over-sized equipment they fantasized about.

He was massaging my balls with one hand. He took his free hand and placed my hands, one after the other, behind his head firmly. Clearly he wanted to be fucked in the mouth. I obliged his need, thinking I should get it over with as quickly as possible. I pulled his head close and shoved my dick in deep. This guy didn't have a gag reflex. He had large, soft tonsils and I massaged them with the head of my dick.

I closed my eyes, started to hump, and thought about Angie, twice my age but the youngest pussy I knew. It took me a good ten minutes to get off, but America's matinee idol dancing star enjoyed himself. When I stepped back and looked down at him he was swallowing my cum and there was a large puddle of his cum on the floor. That arrogant macho expression was gone and he had a big satisfied smile on his face. He looked up at me meekly and thanked me. I guess it's hard to be macho with cum in your mouth.

Things happen fast in Hollywood. It was always wait ... wait ... wait ... and then BAM! I heard about the part in a round about way. Not a high budget movie, but the second lead had to have a completely fresh face. His persona changed half way through the story and the director didn't want to give the audience any clue by using a guy they already knew and had type cast.

It was a young director with a great reputation as a comer. This story was perfect for him and that second lead role was perfect for me. But the producer had made a bomb last time out and he was at least seventy and people said he was over the hill. So far he'd raised only half the money he needed. Too risky most people thought.

The next Thursday was Flo Thursday, as I thought about it. She asked me the usual questions about my career as I sipped her expensive brandy. I told her about the movie. She was a personal friend of the director, a guy I'd only seen from a distance. She'd even read the story when it ran in the Atlantic. She said she thought I'd be perfect in the roll and she said she'd suggest me to the director. That night I fucked her twice. With grateful enthusiasm!

It was a matter of days. Three guys who looked exactly like me tested for the part. Angie came over to the studio to do my hair special. Flo was at the screen test and hinted to the director that she might provide the rest of the money the producer needed for the film. I got the part!

I sure as hell had to keep on fucking Flo at least till the film had finished shooting and now she was asking me to do her every week. Although the studio was paying Angie now I could hardly stop fucking her because she was working on my hair every day, personally.

Thank God the boy dancer had finished shooting his movie! If I had to do him too my dick would be in a sling. However, I was able to ease up on my regular old ladies. Some other poor bastard that "worked" for my boss would have to learn to fuck elderly pussy.

I had thought being an extra was work. Being second lead was hell. I was at the studio at 6 AM every day and in make-up and costume all day long. That's seven days a week! Sometimes we wrapped only sixty seconds of film after hours of shooting.

I had to be careful because that change of character in the middle of the film was the key to this part. And the scenes were NOT shot in sequence so I had to keep changing character back and forth. But if I did it right the reviewers would call me an real actor and that would make all the difference.

But the most important thing for me was that I met a girl. A girl my age. A beautiful girl my age. She had a small part in the film. Her name was Sandy and she was fucking the producer who was almost fifty years older than she was. But that's how she got the part.

Flo had dropped in for some of the shooting and she saw me talking to Sandy. I was doing Flo twice a week now and one night she asked me about Sandy. She was jealous!

I had no choice but to tell Sandy about Flo. She had seen Flo on the set and thought it was funny that I was fucking a woman that old.

"Billy, she's gotta be seventy if she's a day," Sandy said.

I reminded her about the producer.

"Yeah," Sandy said. "But all I gotta do is spread my legs. I don't have to get anything up."

"You have to get HIM up," I reminded her. "And sucking elderly dick is like fucking elderly pussy."

Sandy laughed. "He's hung like a gerbil but that little thing gets hard real fast. I think it's the Viagra. He takes Viagra like popcorn."

"Maybe we can get him to fuck Flo," I joked.

We laughed. There was no way that Flo would fuck that old fart and, of course, vice versa. We agreed to keep our relationship very secret. But I fucked her a lot and the feel of young pussy was something I had almost forgotten. Sandy could grab my cock with that thing like a strong hand and it felt great. And her tits! Jesus her tits felt so firm after all those sagging, floppy old breasts.

It took two months to shoot the film and then a couple of months for editing and voice over's. All this time I had to fuck Flo twice a week, but no more boy dancers or other old ladies. Just three pussies to service -- Flo and Angie and Sandy. I had to be careful about Sandy but Flo understood that I had to service Angie if I wanted my hair perfect.

The movie opened in only a few theatres without a lot of fanfare but it quickly picked up steam with good reviews and the reviewers' comments about the second lead were spectacular. It was my break! No more fuckin old ladies! At least that's what I thought. I was wrong! Boy was I wrong!

Flo introduced me to Fran Sibley who everybody called Frannie. Sandy immediately dubbed her "Fanny" because she was fat and her fanny was awesome to behold. Her husband was a leading producer of big budget films.

And -- you guessed it -- Fanny liked to fuck! She was sixty-five years old and two hundred and twenty pounds going away and she wanted to fuck. Fuck young guys. But even considering what her husband could do for aspiring young actors she still had trouble finding a guy who could get it up with her. And then Flo told Fanny I was a great fuck!

Flo and Fanny began working on Fanny's husband, Morris Sibley, to get him to see my movie that had the great reviews. He never seemed to get around to it. Meanwhile, it was inevitable that I was gonna have to fuck Fanny.

Naked or fully dressed Sandy would bend over in hysterical laughter every time the subject of me fucking Fanny came up.

"Don't let her do you cowboy," Sandy would say. "She'll smother you in fat."

Then she would laugh out of control at the picture in her head of me under a naked Fanny almost buried in rolls of fat. That thought made me lose more than one erection when I was with her.

Flo and Fanny had finally figured out a way to get Fanny's husband to see my film. It was a party at Flo's house and he would be trapped there with a bunch of other people when Flo announced that she was crazy about this new movie and wanted her guests to see it.

Flo told me in a no nonsense way that I was gonna have to fuck Fanny to say thank you for dragging her husband to that party. So I agreed and the first time we were together my career almost came to a disastrous end.

Fanny had a beach house and our rendezvous was to be there. When I arrived she was wearing a flowing "beach gown" that covered the flesh but concealed the figure. When I tried to turn down the lights she indicated in no uncertain terms that she wanted to fuck with the lights on. Fuck on the floor! On the floor in the living room in front of a big picture window looking out at the ocean and the stars and a bright new moon. She thought it would be "romantic."

We sat down on the couch in the brightly lit living room and Fanny stripped me down like she was opening a special Christmas present. Then she rubbed her hands all over my body. She played with my pecker and cradled my testicles gently. She licked and sucked my pecker to get me hard and told me how handsome I was. When I got a hard on I was very proud of myself. Not every guy could do that with a fat old lady. Experience with old women pays off, I told myself.

When my pecker was sticking out proudly, Fanny and I got up from the couch and she smiled at me coyly and then she walked to the center of the room. In a single flowing motion, that she no doubt remembered from some movie and thought was very sexy, she whirled in a complete circle and unwound that magic beach gown, flinging it across the room dramatically. She stood stark naked in spike heels, arms in the air, bright smile on her face, hair in a perfect coiffure, posing for my pleasure. All two hundred and twenty pounds of her!

In that moment I felt a deep appreciation for Flo who always fucked in the dark. Jesus that sixty-five year-old woman was ugly. Indescribable breasts sagging to her waist, thick thighs pressing together even though her feet were spread a foot apart on the floor, an apron of belly fat sagging down to cover her pubic hair. My dick shrunk down to something that even a ten year old would have been ashamed of.

I looked at a sagging dick. And I looked at a sagging Fanny. And then I looked at my sagging career going rapidly down the tube. If there was ever a time for acting this was it. Except I had no script! And I was not a writer! Improvise I shouted to my fevered brain! Anything! Think about sexy fat ladies! Raphael's painting of a naked fat lady flashed instantly into my head.

I shouted to Fanny, "On your knees woman and serve your master!"

Then I posed arrogantly, naked with a limp dick, trying to look like a fifteenth century Cesare Borgia summoning a fat Renaissance whore who had just posed nude for a painting by Raphael. It was brilliant imagery my brain told my pecker, but my pecker was not impressed.

In desperation I searched my brain, racing through my roster of elderly cunts, trying desperately to find some way to trick that reluctant organ. Fanny was now at my feet sucking desperately to give me an erection. But my pecker remained as unimpressed with Fanny's mouth as it had been with Raphael's naked model.

I thought of Flo. But the image in my head was total darkness. If I couldn't see her fucking then my pecker couldn't see her either. Not even a slight sensation from that reluctant instrument.

Angie I thought. Really good pussy! And she's under fifty! I conjured her up in my brain and saw her image carefully trimming a lock of my hair − trying it this way and then another way to get it perfect. Finally she got it right and I looked at my handsome image in the mirror and thanked her. Get her naked! I shouted at my brain. Get her naked! But all I saw was that spectacular new hairdo. My pecker was, to say the least, unenthusiastic about my new hairdo.

I searched my brain for other imagery to turn my pecker on. Sandy my girlfriend I thought! I remembered her beautiful naked body. When I summoned that sexy image into my head she was indeed beautiful and naked − but the gal I loved was bent over laughing at me hysterically. I think my reluctant pecker was laughing with her. In any event that pecker remained disinclined to perform.

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byLynnGKS© 4 comments/ 13498 views/ 2 favorites

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