The House on Main Street Ch. 02

The old woman was true to her word. Two days after I photographed her house during the day I received an email from her real estate agent asking if I could do a night shoot at the property the following week. I gave her a couple of options and in her reply my client said that her seller might want me to do both nights "just to be sure that I was able to capture the essence of the house." I got the impression that we both knew what it would mean if I were to go to the house two more times since the old woman seemed like the kind of person who liked to brag about her exploits. The ache in my crotch as I confirmed the time and day with her sure let me know that I knew exactly what the old woman would have in store for me if I were to go back twice more to her house. Part of me didn't know if I could handle two nights under her spell in one week and the other part of me really wanted to find out if I would survive.

To say I was distracted after booking the night shoot would be the understatement of the year. Every time I had a moment to myself I was thinking about the old woman, her furs, her sweaters, and the way she had effortlessly (or at least seemingly so) seduced me. I had never thought of someone of her age in "that way" before -- oh sure, I had seen the TV shows where older couples talk about still wanting and still having sex but I never thought that I would be so attracted to someone that senior to me. She exuded a certain magnetism that made me extremely susceptible to her charms. I am pretty sure her wardrobe played a significant part in my defences melting away, as well

The day of the night shoot finally arrived and I was excited and apprehensive at the same time. The old woman said that she would have "conditions" for me to meet the next time I was at her house, and knowing her they could either be everything I wanted or she would make me feel so out of my depth and comfort level that I wouldn't be able to give in to her. If there was one thing I learned when I was first at her house it was that she was the most unpredictable woman I had ever met.

I arrived at the property early just to make sure that the lights were all turned on and as I knocked on the door I couldn't help but look at the house and feel that deep ache she had left in me last week start to creep back into my chest.

She opened the door and smiled at me as I shifted awkwardly on the porch.

"You're back," she said.

"Yes, ma'am. And you picked a perfect night for the photo shoot," I said, trying to actual as casual as possible.

She looked up at me and without skipping a beat she said "Young man, you have no idea how perfect a night this is going to be."

Her smile turned to a devilish grin as she waived me inside.

"Now," she said with a hint of playfulness in her voice, "be honest with an old woman and tell me that you have been thinking about what might happen tonight since last week."

I blushed deeply and tried to reply but she held up her hand.

"What if I told you that all you were here for was to take those lovely evening photos I have seen on your website?"

I blushed again and felt a sudden bloom of disappointment come over me.

The old woman reached out and took my hand in hers and stroked it a few times.

"I shouldn't tease you so," she said. "I have been planning tonight since the first flow of your sweet honey twitched across my tongue in my bedroom." She nodded towards her living room as she released my hands and turned on the last of the lights on the main floor.

I looked over and saw that she had brought down her straddling vibrator machine and set it up by her couch.

"In fact," she said, "I think I might have been looking forward to tonight even more than you. So much so that while you are out taking your pictures I will be in here... running situations over in my mind."

It was then that I noticed the fluffy pile of clothes on the armchair. She had brought down the thick pink mohair cardigan, an equally fuzzy and oversized grey mohair sweater, and the white Mongolian lamb fur coat that she had surprised me with when she was giving me head.

She followed my gaze to the chair and then looked back up at me.

"An old woman such as myself never knows when she's going to need to wrap herself up in some cosy sweaters."

"No, ma'am," I squeaked out.

"I bet I can guess what you are thinking right about now."

I just stood in her hallway, afraid to speak and give myself away.

"Conditions."

My face went beet red again.

"Go and open up that closet," she said, pointing to the door just past the staircase at the end of the hallway.

I paused for a second and walked down the hall and turned the doorknob. I opened the door and stood absolutely stunned for what seemed like an eternity.

"Do you know what that is?," she asked.

I turned towards her as the blood drained from my face.

She waited a moment to see if I would answer her.

"After last week you're still shy around me? Oh sweetie, that's what makes seducing you so much fun -- that innocence of yours plus your sheer enjoyment of every one of my parlour tricks is just a delicious combination."

She walked over to me and gently moved me aside as she reached into the closet.

"This lovely coat was my husband's. It's lynx belly, but I am pretty sure you knew that already. That it was lynx, not that it was my husband's." She struggled with the weight of the fur and I instinctively reached over and grabbed it before she dropped it. "Such a gentleman, thank you."

It was truly a magnificent fur -- softer than any fur I had ever touched, and thick beyond my wildest dreams. It took me a couple of tries before I was able to stop the coat from trickling from my arms. It was truly immense and I had to keep myself from burying my fingers in the fur as I waited for what was the old woman wanted me to do.

"This," the old woman said, "is my condition."

"What do you mean?," I asked, still fumbling my fingers through the dense, silky fur.

"I want you to wear this while you are taking your pictures tonight."

"But...," I started to protest, trying to come up with the right words. "The neighbours...."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about them. It will be fairly dark out there, and besides, I want you to wear the coat inside out... wearing nothing but your underwear. And your shoes and socks, of course."

"I... uh...."

She placed her hand gently on my forearm as she spoke to me.

"I have given this evening a lot of thought, and I know that by the end of it both you and I will be very happy, as well as very tired. I felt you cum in my mouth last week and I know that your orgasm this evening will be just as enjoyable, if not more so, but if you think you will be able to just take your photos and leave tonight without any regrets, without thinking even for a second 'What was the old lady going to do to me to pull every last creamy teaspoon from my cock and have me begging to do it again?' then you are free to shoot my house, wearing your own clothes, and go home."

She was right when she said on that first day I met her that as soon as I walked through the door that there was no escape. I was up against decades and decades of her experience; her ability to size up what it was that any man or woman she set her sights on truly desired and how to fulfill those desires (and beyond) was without compare.

She took the fur from me and placed it on the bench in the front hall and looked me over from head to toe.

"I can see by the look in your eyes that you are still conflicted about having sex with someone my age, yet judging by the bulge in your pants the smart side of your brain has already made the smart decision. Your eyes will be closed when you are cumming later on so my wrinkles and grey hair won't make a lick of difference." She winked at me and waived her hand casually in my direction.

"You take your clothes off and I will turn this beauty inside out for you. How's that for a deal?," she asked, poking her arm first through one sleeve of the coat and then the other, each time her petite torso seemed to disappear into the massive fur, swallowed for a moment and then gently and lovingly spat back out.

By the time the old woman got the coat turned inside out I had my clothes off and my socks and shoes back on. I felt very self-conscious as I stood there waiting for her to slide me into the lynx fur. While my underwear may have been giving me a semblance of humility, the fact that my penis was stretching my boxers out and my precum had soaked through the cotton fabric made them all but worthless as a means of hiding any secret I thought they might keep from the old woman.

"Oh my," she said as she walked over to me with the prepared fur in her arms, "don't you look good enough to eat."

She handed me the heavy coat and waited while I put it on. I stuck my right arm into the sleeve and immediately felt my cock bounce -- the fur was so soft and dense and it felt like it was gulping down my arm right to my shoulder, mouthing me with a huge airy and fluffy tongue. I let my fingers wander through the dense pelt all the way down the sleeve until they finally poked out through the cuff. I lifted up the lynx to slide my left arm into the other awaiting furry funnel-of-a-sleeve and felt my whole body tingle as the guard hairs danced and crumpled against my bare back and shoulders, finally flopping onto the backs of my legs. I closed my eyes as the sheer joy of the coat settled over me.

I gasped when the old woman gripped my cock and started squeezing it, milking me of just a little more of the clear, sticky liquid that was seeping through my underwear.

"You know, we could just close all the clasps and lock you in the coat and I could swallow you whole where you stand." She clenched her fingers around me again and gave me a few more tugs. "We would just need to carefully pop your little friend out so he didn't drench my husband's baby and I could probably finish you off in under a minute," she said as she began to close me into the bulky fur, all the while guiding me to press my back against the wall.

The old woman had now reached through the slit of the coat with both hands and had stretched the waistband of my underwear out and down enough so that she could wrap her thumb and forefinger around the head of my penis, and was talking in the same rhythm as her strokes up and down my shaft.

"I could... easily... slip my... lips... over you... and bury... my face... in that... lovely... soffffft... fffffffurrrrrr...," she said, clasping her fingers tightly around me, tugging on me in one long pull as she drew out the words. She bent over as she spoke and drew my penis free of the coat and pulled my boxers below my testicles, and as her head got closer to my waist she repeated the words 'soft fur' in a whisper, causing me to thrust my hips out towards her mouth and the warm air that flowed across the head of my cock. I held my breath for an instant, eager for her lips and tongue to slides over me and prayed for the same oral fucking she gave me last week as I stood enclosed in the gorgeous lynx fur that seemed to be throbbing and fluttering all around me with as great an anticipation as my own.

"But that's not part of my plan," she said, gently guiding my penis back into my underwear. "Besides, you need to take your photos or you won't get paid."

I tried to will myself to cum at the sound of her voice, hoping she would be forced to change her plans and gobble me up right there in the hall, allowing my tremors to spill down her throat, but I remained trapped in the old woman's web, and resigned myself to the fact that any control I thought I had in her presence was merely a facade. My role in this sexual drama was at best that of a supporting cast member, although I was finding myself to be more and more just a plaything in her more experienced hands.

She shooed me outside with barely enough time to catch the first couple of minutes before the magic hour. I did my best to focus on the task at hand but with every movement, every repositioning of my camera and tripod the lynx fur coat insinuated itself into my night shoot and reminded me of just how thick and voluptuous it was as it swept and brushed the backs of my calves, under my arms, over my back, and across my chest.

To anyone peering out their front window I was simply some guy lumbering around in the dusky light in an odd-looking outfit taking photos of the old woman's house, but as I captured every angle and waited for my memory card to catch up with the long exposures before moving on to the next shot I had to fight the urge to find a dark corner of the yard and sneak my arms out of the furry sleeves that wafted over my bare skin and finish myself off, dribbling my desire across the old woman's hostas and hydrangeas.

In spite of the fluffy torment the old woman was putting me through I managed to keep my mind on my job. When I got closer to the porch to take some detail shots I heard a familiar sound coming from the house as I focused my lens. She must have turned on her straddling vibrator after pushing me out the door, and the clearly recognizable humming was finally loud enough that it floated above the other sounds of the evening.

I was reaching the ten-minute mark of the night shoot and was just about to go around to the backyard when the droning of the machine stepped up rapidly and was quickly followed by the cries of the old woman having a long and quite obviously satisfying orgasm. My penis twitched involuntarily at the noises that escaped through the barely open window in the living room. I tried to peer through the night to catch a glimpse of her and wait until her moans subsided, but all I could see from where I stood was the pile of mohair sweaters and the lamb fur coat that were still slumped over the chair.

I knew I had to finish taking the photos I was hired to do before I could go inside and finally discover what she had planned for me. With barely another ten minutes left before there wasn't enough light in the sky to get the shots I needed I headed around to the backyard, the lynx fur flowing and brushing against my skin in tune with every step I took, daring me not to cum. By this point I was on autopilot and while I managed to come up with all of the photographs I needed to consider the shoot a success, I spent most of the second half of the shoot listening for her vibrator to start up again. I wasn't disappointed, and as I was turning off my camera and heading back around to the front door I heard the telltale sounds over the buzzing of the machine that she wasn't disappointed either for the second time that night.

I waited a few minutes before I knocked on the door. I didn't want to be presumptuous and just walk in like I deserved to be there, and I also wanted to give the old woman the chance to make herself presentable, or to at least compose herself after her orgasms. She didn't answer my knock right away but instead I could hear the clicking of light switches and saw first the hallway and then the living room go dark.

"You can come in," she said as she walked into the dining room and then the kitchen, still turning off more lights.

I stepped through the door and put my tripod in the hallway and looked around to see if I catch a glimpse of what was to come.

"Put the coat over top the chaise lounge," she instructed from the kitchen. "Fur side up," she added in case I had forgotten what it was like to have the silver fox fur under me last week.

She came around the corner from the kitchen wearing her grey mohair sweater. The little bit of light there was in the hallway made the halo of the yarn look enormous and I could feel a few more drops of precum trickle into the silver dollar sized patch at the front of my boxers. I am not sure if the sweater had ever fit her tightly but it was quite baggy over her frame and hung down to her mid-thighs. As I admired the awesome sight of the fluffy mohair I noticed something different about her mouth. It was only when she spoke that I could see that the old woman had taken her dentures out again.

"You will need this," she said as she handed me a silk scarf that had been folded over a few times.

I looked at her, at the scarf, and then at her again.

She pointed to the fur coat I had carefully draped over the lounger.

"Take off your underwear and lay down," she directed, "and slide this under your bottom."

I don't know if I hesitated again but she took the initiative to drive home the point.

"I like to keep my babies dry, remember?"

Even though the room was darkened, I still felt very self-conscious about being naked in front of her but I did as I was told. Being wrapped up in the lynx fur while I was outside was extremely arousing but when I lay down on top of it, the guard and down hairs finally getting a chance to bump up against my testicles and nestle into the crack of my ass, I was sure I could die right then and there and be the happiest man alive. I pulled myself away from my furry delirium and tucked the scarf underneath my hips as the old woman has commanded.

"Oh, how you glisten in the darkness," she purred. "I think you will be able to soothe my ache with that little lovely of yours without a doubt."

The smart side of my brain that she had talked about before answered her praise by letting fall a few more drops of precum.

"I am not sure if you're chilly, but at my age it's very hard to keep warm in this drafty old house." She walked over to the chair where the pink cardigan and the Mongolian lamb fur coat were still waiting for her. "You wouldn't want me to catch a cold, would you?," she said wryly.

"No, ma'am," I answered, squeezing my fingers into the thick fur beneath me.

She hadn't bothered to wait for my reply and was already stuffing her arms into the mohair cardigan. The sight of the two fuzzy sweaters made her torso looked disproportionately bigger in relation to her skinny legs. The brushed out mohair of the grey sweater seemed to push the cardigan off her body, almost as if it were trying to prove just how dense and fluffy it was. The thick pink yarn of the cardigan looked like it was it was doing its best to smother the sweater underneath, absorb it, blend with it.

She pawed at the two gorgeous pieces of knitwear as much for my benefit as for hers to see if everything was fitting properly.

She caught me staring at her in the dim light and smiled.

"I think I am still feeling a bit on the cool side." She picked up the Mongolian fur coat and began to pull the sleeves inside out as she did for the lynx fur I wore outside. "One more layer couldn't hurt, could it?," she asked.

"Oh, yes," she said as she finished smoothing out the cuffs. "I really am glad that you gave me the reason to get nestled into some of my favourite softies tonight. I so love being wrapped up in my babies," she cooed as she grabbed the mohair at her wrists and guided her arms down the length of the curls that were now mixing with dense halo of her sweaters.

"So many memories, and just oh so soft." She eyed my penis as it continued to drizzle out my precum.

"I wouldn't be a good hostess if I kept you laying there getting colder and colder by the minute, now would I?" She lifted the tail of the coat as she straddled the chaise lounge and slowly lowered herself first onto my thighs and then forward so she was bumping into the shaft of my penis. She rocked back and forth a couple of times, sliding up the trail of precum a bit more with each movement as she tilted her head back in order to savour the pressing of my flesh against her labia. She was very wet and the folds of her sex were warm as they seemed to lick at my cock; teasing my head, stopping ever-so-briefly and making me feel that with just the slightest bit more pressure I would be sucked inside her, her hood coating me with the remnants of the lube she had used while riding her vibrator.