Questions for Sioux

He had barely dared to hope. It was six years ago, she'd be in her thirties by now.

Yet there she was! Still working the counter of that dingy West Village sex emporium. Still a strange, twitchy little thing, dressed in random clothes -- some obviously not hers -- it was Sioux.

She froze when she spotted the tall, skinny old man walking up to her counter. That hat? Those glasses? The shaggy white beard? She couldn't recall his name, but she sure did remember his big, fat penis.

"Hello, Sioux. I'm Bob."

"Hey, Bob. I remember you."

"Well, you did ravish me after promising not to."

"You ravished a customer?" asked the pudgy black guy at the cash register.

"Uhm, kinda, Jimmy. I was trying to ensure ... customer satisfaction."

"Details, please."

"Ok, well ... I couldn't resist taking a sip of cum from the tip of his big, fat cock."

"Nice detail."

"It was extra salty."

"Woof! Very nice!"

"You got a strap-on for your wife, right, Bob? Did she enjoy it?"

"Rather too much." Bob made a face indicating discomfort, and Sioux and Jimmy both laughed. "But then she died. About two months ago." Sioux and Jimmy both stopped laughing.

"That's very sad," said Jimmy.

"Yes, I know," said Bob.

"So what do you want?" asked Sioux.

Bob drew himself up and looked Sioux in the eye. "I want to paint you," he announced.

She looked him up and down. His ancient suit was shabby and stained. But ... paint stained. "On a canvas or something or directly onto my body?"

"On a canvas or something."

"Hmm. More boring, less messy."

Bob laughed. "Usually."

Sioux laughed. "Jimmy, can you handle things out here for a while?"

"More customer satisfaction?" he asked, handing her the key to the back room.

Sioux laughed again. "Fuck you too, Jimmy. C'mon, Bob."

Bob knew that key. He knew the plain little door in the back corner. He remembered the oddly shaped room where Sioux had tried out various dildoes on his poor asshole.

This time wasn't going to be like that.

Inside the room boxes and crates had been stacked, emptied, and replaced many times since Bob was last there. The furniture was pretty much the same.

Sioux went and perched on the couch. "Come over here where I can see you," she said. Slowly he walked over. "Closer," she pointed at the floor right in front of her.

"I ... I didn't ask for this," he said as she undid his belt.

"You haven't actually asked for anything yet. Here, hold your shirttails up and apart, yeah, like that." This was to keep his hands busy and out of her way. Worked.

All the stuff in his pockets caused his pants to fall to the floor with a thunk. He was a lot cleaner than she'd expected. Very pale and thin, medium hairy. His pubic hair was still mostly brown.

Then there was his penis. It wasn't fully hard yet, but was already big. She hefted it in her right hand and cupped his balls with her left. A finger found the smooth patch behind his balls and stroked it. His dick swelled warmly in her hand.

Stroking and squeezing, she studied the dick, with an occasional nuzzle, lick, or kiss. Bob smelled of linseed oil. His dick was long and quite thick, cut, with a very large ridge around the glans. A drop of pre-cum oozed from his slit, and she sipped it off. "Yum."

Finally she took the whole throbbing head of his dick into her small, wet mouth, sucking hard and working his ridge with her tongue.

Bob's knees buckled. (He was rather old.)

Sioux grabbed his hips and swung him around onto the couch. While he untangled his legs, she made sure his penis stayed hard. Happily, it did.

She gathered up her long print skirts and showed her wild dark bush. Her vulva was already wet and swollen.

"Hold my shirts up if you want to watch." He wanted to watch.

When swung her leg over his hips, he seized the skirts. With one hand she spread her vulva open, and with the other she slotted his dickhead home.

Bob was somewhat shocked. Even sixty years ago, when he was a teen, he'd never started a fuck so quickly. But she was very wet, very juiced, and sank down onto his shaft all the way in one move. It was splendid.

"Good thing your cock isn't longer than my thighs," she said, grinding her pelvis into the root of his penis. She adjusted her knees and began to pump, slow and steady, up and down. "Ahh, that's nice," she said. Bob would have agreed if he could've talked.

Sioux had her hands on his bony shoulders, and was intently watching his face. Bob was amazed that she could take him so deep so easily. His wife couldn't, and they had fucked a lot. And Sioux was a much smaller woman.

He moved his hands up under her skirts and felt up her pumping thighs and then her ass. It had been a long time since he'd felt a thirty year old ass. It was firm and smooth.

"You're ... so good ... at this," he panted.

"I know ... my own ... cunt."

After a few more long, slow strokes, she shifted angles and plowed that thick ridge into her g-spot. Soon she spasmed, squeezing his penis.

"There it is. You gave me an orgasm. First time in and you gave me an orgasm. Not everybody can do that." She resumed the long firm strokes.

You gave yourself an orgasm, he thought. He got his hands up under her shirts and learned that she was bra-less. Her breasts were medium small and torpedo shaped, with big nipples and large puffy areolae.

"Oh, yes, pinch my nipples, yes, yes, like that." Her vagina spasmed again and that was too much for Bob: He came and came and came. Filled her with his elderly sperm.

And so their fuck was done.

"That was very nice," she said, climbing off. He just lay there, trying to get his heart-rate and breathing under control.

Bob's pale, skinny, old-man knees jutted into the room, and his deflating penis dribbled cum onto the couch front.

The room stank of sex.

"I better check on Jimmy," said Sioux. "There's a toilet over there if you need it, and a sink if you want to wash the cunt juice off your cock. I like cunt juice on a cock m'self, it adds ... pizazz. But do as you like."

"I ... I think I might nap for a while."

"Ok. That's fine. I get off in an hour or so. I'll fetch you then." And with that she left, locking the door behind her.

Just before he fell asleep, Bob noticed that his ass-crack felt warm, wet, and sticky.

* * * * * * *

"Well? Is it still extra salty?" asked Jimmy.

"Judge for yourself," said Sioux, lifting her skirts and exposing her hairy, dripping groin.

Jimmy slid a finger up her thigh, catching some of her leakage. "Mmm, that was mostly you," he said, sucking his finger.

He stuck a finger up into her and scooped out a thick clot of sperm. He sucked it into his mouth and rolled it on his tongue. "Spicy!"

Sioux scooped out a clot for herself. "Hmm. Wow. A bit like soy sauce."

"May I have another?" asked Jimmy.

"Help yourself. Shame to waste it."

After slurping down a second scoop from Sioux's vagina, Jimmy asked "So are you going to let him paint you?"

"Dunno. He hasn't actually asked." She took another gob of Bob-sperm and sucked it down like a little oyster.

"Ooo, so you're a literalist, a stickler for form." He took another clump of cum from Sioux and swallowed.

"Mmm, that felt nice. Yeah, I s'pose you're right. I'm thinking of taking him home after work." She licked her fingers some more.

Jimmy had to dig deep to find a last sizable glob of sperm. "Take him home? To your home? With all those nuts? They'll eat him alive!"

"Perhaps," said Sioux. "If I let them. It might be interesting to watch."