The Predator Ch. 08

I chuckled and made it down from the ladder with no broken bones.

I took the fan into the garage and laid it on one of the workbenches. Then I opened the box the new fan came in, got all of the styrofoam packing out and thrown away, found the mounting bracket and instructions, and went back to see if there had been a miracle and the old mounting bracket would fit the new fan.

No miracle occurred so I set about removing the old bracket from the junction box in the ceiling and replacing it with the new one. And at each step I was aware of the naked woman sitting, calmly, watching me.

When I had the bracket mounted I climbed down from the ladder, looked at Madonna, grinned, and said, "without that fan working it's pretty warm in here."

She watched as I undressed and then, naked myself except for the tennis shoes I had put back on, climbed the ladder again, fully erect by now, hung the motor unit on the little hook, connected the wires, and got it mounted.

"Hey, lazy," I said, "start handing me the blades, three screws with each one."

She giggled but complied. One by one I mounted the blades.

As I was doing the second one I jumped and damn near fell when her fingers traced up my thigh and touched my scrotum.

The rest of the blades became a sort of sex game. She'd hand me a blade and then see if she could break my concentration with fingers or lips or tongue. It was an interesting installation job.

"Okay," I said, a little breathless myself, "turn it on."

She flipped the switch and I pulled the chain, saw the blades start to spin, pulled three more times to get to the "off" position, moved the reverse switch, confirmed it was working both directions, checked the lights, and let it spin up to speed. I watched it wobble a bit, turned it off. When it stopped I put the little weight that came in the kit on one of the blades, watched again, and repeated until I had it all nicely balanced.

"Done and done," I said, smiling and wiping my hands on the towel.

"Very nice," she said, "now come over here for a treat," she said, patting the couch beside her.

So I went.

"Head in my lap," she said, patting the top of her thigh, and I squirmed around and laid back, my head where she had indicated.

She brushed her wet nipple across my lips and I opened my mouth and accepted her greedily. I suckled, my tongue massaging her nipple against the roof of my mouth, feeling her milk, thick and rich and warm and sweet, flowing into my mouth.

"That's nice," she said, her voice soft, as she stroked my hair.

Her hand found my erection and she held it in four fingers while her thumb very gently caressed the base of the glans. She was VERY good with her hand, taking me quickly to the edge and then holding me there.

I was impressed.

Her milk was still flowing freely when she used her finger to break the latch I had on her nipple and pulled it free. She offered the other nipple which I took greedily, and besides the other sensations she was giving me, the warm milk dribbling slowly onto my forehead and into my hair was getting to me.

She was humming a little lullaby too.

I was actually getting full from her milk when she broke my latch again.

"Come on, honey," she said, giving my dick a squeeze, "take me to bed."

So I sat up and when she stood I had a chance to really look at her for the first time.

"You can not be 73," I said, looking her up and down.

She giggled and said, "well thank you."

She struck a pose and I reached for my cell phone. She posed a few more times as I took pictures.

Her big tits sagged, and there was a cutely wrinkled little pouch of a belly. Her pussy was interesting, perfectly smooth, with very plump full lips leaving her with just a small slit in view.

"How do you do it?" I asked.

She giggled again and said, "well, I DO eat right, I take my vitamins, I buy my CeraVe body lotion in the 55-gallon drum size, and, well," and here she reached down and brushed her fingertips across those interesting labia, "regular botox injections."

I chuckled and said, "whatever you're doing, it's damn sure working."

She giggled again and did a passable curtsy. "Well thank you," she said, "kind sir."

She offered her hand, I took it, and stood, following as she led me down a hallway to her bedroom.

The bedroom was one of those gender-neutral rooms married couples settle on. The bed itself was a big, king-size number with a bookshelf headboard, side tables, a couple of lamps. The curtains were patterned with cute kittens. The art on the wall was mostly photographs, Madonna with a big man I assumed was her husband. A couple of chests of drawers.

"Up here, baby," she said, patting the bed.

Being a gentleman, I had to oblige.

She crawled up on the bed with me, her age showing finally with the way she moved. But when she straddled me, lifted herself, guided my erection, and then slowly settled onto me I flashed back to my first time, awkward in the back seat of my car. Her labia, swollen with the botox, gave her a tightness I had forgotten about. And she was so slick, I slipped in easily.

Her eyes were closed and her head thrown back, as she inhaled slowly, her breasts rising as she did.

She breathed out slowly, her lips pursed, a soft whistling sound.

She did that three times and then on the fourth, when she drew in the long breath, her pussy began running with a thick, warm discharge, soaking my balls and running down the crack of my ass.

She held her breath, the tension in her body visible as she trembled, shivering as if she was cold.

Finally, she gasped out the breath and then drew in another, slowly, the only movement she was making was the expansion of her chest and the slight rising of her breasts which continued to drip onto my belly.

I didn't move. I was content to watch her. It was fascinating seeing her take her pleasure.

Finally, she shuddered and I felt her squeeze my cock, surprising me with the strength of her vaginal muscles, and she leaned forward, slowly, molding her body to mine.

"Stay inside of me, baby," she whispered.

My hands were on her back now, rubbing softly.

"Ask nicely," I said, my hand finding her slim, surprisingly firm, ass.

"Please, baby," she said softly, "please stay inside of me."

I moved my hips slightly, pulling away from her.

"You can do better than that," I whispered.

"Noooo," she sort of moaned, "please, please," she was breathing into my ear now, her tongue warm and wet, "please baby, stay where you are?"

My fingers were spreading her ass cheeks now, my fingertip touching that tiny sensitive spot, drawing little gasps from her.

"Beg for it," I said.

"Please, please, baby," she whispered, "please stick with me," she was covering my face with little kisses now, "please."

"Tell me what you want," I said, my control starting to fail now.

"Stay inside me," she said, squeezing with her vaginal muscles, "until I finish."

So I took my hands off of her ass and laced my fingers behind my head.

"Go on," I said, "take what you need."

She pushed herself up, assuming the classic cowgirl position, her knees along my waist, her feet touching my hips, and she began riding me in earnest now. Her hips were rocking and thrusting, her fingers were working her nipples and milk was spraying. Her eyes went unfocused.

When she came it was obvious. Her mouth was wide open and she was drooling a little. Her vaginal muscles clenched, squeezing me tight. Her love honey flowed freely, warm and sticky and slick. When she finally breathed it was a hard, sudden gasp.

She started to lean forward, satisfied, but I caught her shoulders and held her up.

"Keep going," I said, "finish me too."

Her eyes focused again, meeting mine, and she smiled and started working her hips even harder, her thrusts making an audible smacking sound with each hard impact.

I was working hard at my control now, wanting her to be exhausted.

"Come on Madonna," I said, "you can do better than that."

She was panting now, from the exertion rather than the pleasure, and starting to sweat.

"Don't you stop," I said, my fingers digging into her shoulders a little harder.

I kept her going like that, barely hanging on to my control, until she was reduced to a gasping, panting thing, her hips barely moving, whimpering, "please baby, please baby."

She screamed, well, she made a high-pitched whistling, exhausted sound when I finally surrendered my control and came in her, filling her, overflowing her, my semen running down the crack of my ass joining her mucus.

"Oh God, oh God, ohGodohGodohGodohGod," she was sort of moaning, as I allowed her to lay forward, her body molding to mine.

"Say thank you," I said.

"Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou," she said.

"Good girl," I said, giving her ass a pat.

We lay like that for a while, her getting her breath back, me considering my next move.

She whimpered a little when I softened and slipped out.

I rolled her off of me, being reasonably gentle, and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

"Don't run off," she said, rolling onto her side and flashing my best coquettish smile.

"I'm not going far," I said, grinning, and reaching for my pants to get my cell phone.

For the next five minutes I posed her, naked in bed, while I was adding to my cell phone picture gallery. I got dozens of shots of her in interesting poses including some with her legs spread and semen obviously running out of her. One I was particularly proud of caught her face perfectly as she took my cock in her mouth.

"Okay toots," I said, offering my hand, "time to get up and pay up. I DO need to get going."

She smiled as she rolled out of bed. "Will you be back," she asked, looking up at me.

"Of course," I said, "since you're going to give me a key."

That stopped her.

"David," she said, "I'm not sure..."

But I held up my hand, stopping her.

"Hey," I said, showing my best arrogant grin this time, "it's up to you. But if you want me to come back, them's my terms."

She didn't say anything, just walked back down the hall toward her kitchen. I liked that she didn't try to cover up or anything stupid. We were pretty far past that I figured.

She opened a drawer in a side table and pulled out a little box.

"I assume you prefer cash," she said and I nodded.

I watched as she counted off six $20 bills and handed them to me.

"Thank you, sir," she said, smiling up at me.

"Always a pleasure," I said, putting them into my pocket.

I bent and kissed her and then headed for the door.

She surprised me by following me. I felt an odd, proprietary pride when I saw her walking proudly, naked, evidently unashamed of the semen running down her thighs.

"It's been interesting," I said, giving her a final kiss and getting into my little car.

"And it will be," she said, offering me a key.