The Spinster and the Boy Ch. 01

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thank you, loyal followers and welcome new readers. If you like what you read please VOTE and COMMENT. I love to know the stories are appreciated. All characters are over 18 years of age. All players are consenting adults.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jocelyn Handcock was a dreadful, prudish old woman.

In her twenties and thirties, when everyone is as pretty or handsome as they're ever going to be, her sour disposition kept all serious suitors away. Over the years, as her youthful beauty receded, her personality became more and more reclusive and twisted.

Now, with her sixty-third birthday come and gone, unremembered by anyone, Jocelyn has been left a bitter old spinster, living alone in the old house her parents left her. It is not a big home but she keeps it fastidiously neat, piously quoting the 'cleanliness is next to godliness' line to anyone who comments.

Along with her obsessive-compulsive neatness, she has also developed a fanatic desire for strict routines.

She walks down to her letterbox every day at ten minutes past two precisely. She does her clothes washing on Wednesday morning, rain, hail or shine. She plays cards with her friend Beatrice on Thursday morning from 9am till 1pm sharp (leaving in the middle of a hand if she realizes she can't get home in time). And on the first Monday of every month at exactly 8am, Ms. Handcock has a standing appointment with her hairdresser (a lady around the corner who worked out of her garage) where she gets the auburn rinse put through her hair.

And she masturbated herself like clockwork as well. The old lady does it precisely five times every day. In the morning, at 6am when her alarm goes off... after her second cup of tea at 10am... her lunchtime session in front of the TV soaps... her 4.30pm... and the big one in the evening. From 7pm to 9pm she fucks herself to sleep with the mammoth baptismal candle especially given to her by the vicar at church.

"You're a marvelous god-fearin' woman Jocelyn Handcock," he proclaimed solemnly in his deep Irish accent.

He presented her with the big wax phallus in front of the whole congregation. There were more than a few sniggers and whispers as the priest innocently passed her the dildo-shaped candle but none of them would ever have thought that an old woman like her was excitedly thinking the same thing. The outside world only ever saw the prim and proper, church-going senior, never guessing at the depths of passion and depravity in the old lady's soul.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

CHURCH

Sundays were special days for Jocelyn and began early. At 5am she rubs her aching pussy to orgasm, crying out happily into the gathering morning light at 5.30. Then its out of bed and into a hot shower till 5.45am where he scours her body mercilessly, trying to clean away her secret immoral thoughts... paying particular attention to her big bottom and her lascivious hairy cunt that she knows, in her heart of hearts, she had no control over.

Once she's done she meticulously dries herself, toweling dry her beautiful rounded body... a full plump body that has never been blasted by childbirth. She swipes under her huge football-shaped boobs and roughly over her dark red nipples... huge thick nipples that have never felt a mouth suckling them but are so incredibly sensitive. Bending over, with surprising flexibility for one so old, she dries between her toes, up her thick strong calves and thighs, between her legs, ignoring the delightful friction of the course towel on her insatiable old cunt, her back, her ass, under her arms...

Her lingerie is old but complete.

Knickers first, big loose granny bloomers, so old they are like a sack with leg holes, obsessively washed so many times they have a grey tinge. She pulls them up high over her protruding round belly so that the gusset slots up between her huge round ass cheeks and fat hairy pussy lips. She knows it's cheating but the friction of the satin up inside herself feels so nice when she walks...

Her bra, a similarly over-washed white/grey, is a thickly padded bullet type from the 1950s, an instrument of torture for most women - but not this sadistic old lady. To put it on she leans forward and dangles her huge saggy teats into the pointed cups, carefully ensuring the big long nipples fall into the tip. Then she fastens it at the front - six old-fashioned press studs that keep her mammoth boobs in check.

Somewhat ironically, for such an apparently prudish old lady she wears hosiery as well, sexy old-fashioned brown French stockings with a white suspender belt. She's convinced herself that she wears the slutty dark brown nylon simply to cover her sinful flesh. It was hypocrisy of course. She could just as easily have worn pantyhose... or socks like all the other old women. The suspenders make her feel sexy.

She takes time with her hair, eventually coaxing her long dyed auburn locks up into the tight bun that she seems to favor. The bun is so tight it seems to stretch her face like a mini face-lift, giving her a look of unblinking perpetual surprise. Jocelyn thinks it makes her look more youthful and, if it wasn't for the grim set of her mouth, maybe it would... at least a little.

Her wardrobe is full of unflattering sack-like frocks. Her 'Sunday Best' dresses all cover her from neck to well below the knee, completely hiding her lush curvaceous figure. The only skin showing is her hands and her pinched haughty head, sitting like a dried prune on top of the tightly buttoned collar, snug around her wattled saggy neck,

It is clothing much like her character - dour and concealing, giving no hint to what is really underneath.

Jocelyn is almost ready to go.

Shoes were flat black leather pumps. Never earrings - such adornment is the devil's work. She even feels like the Whore of Babylon when she applies the thin layer of maroon lipstick to her perpetually sneering lips.

Prim, pompous, and prudish she is ready.

At 7am her neighbors, the Besinger's are parked outside, ready for the hour-long drive to St Martins Catholic Church in the next parish. The Besinger's could have gone to a closer congregation but Ms. Handcock complained that all her friends went to St Martin's and rather than contradict her, Mr. Besinger drove her and his family an hour out of their way to the pokey little church in the next county.

The only member of the family who didn't mind at all was young Harvey Besinger.

His mother and father sit in the front seats. His older sister sits by one passenger window and Ms. Handcock has the other. Harvey sits sandwiched between on the hump.

There was no avoiding pressing against the old woman. Thigh to thigh, his arm gets pleasantly squished against the swell of her lovely big boobs. It's definitely the best thing about Sundays.

The horny young teen will sit in a fever of sexual excitement all the way there and all the way back. In fact, when they arrive at church, Harvey needs to visit the toilets, jerking himself off before the sermon starts. He has to get rid of the unseemly tent that the old woman has caused in his pants.

He repeats the process when they finally get home, straight up to his room to beat his meat, with thoughts of fucking the old woman racing through his head... plunging his huge, hard tool in and out of her old wet cunt.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

ALADDIN'S CAVE

Jocelyn Handcock was an obsession for the young man.

Admittedly the teen was at that stage when everything gave him a hardon but his reaction is so much more than that. At an earlier time in the journey through his childhood, adventuring and exploring, he had found his way into old Ms. Handcock's basement.

The mysterious dark opening he found into the foundations of her house was like Aladdin's Magic Cave to him at the time. He got down on all fours and crawled bravely into the dark crevice looking for the genie and its treasure.

After the hot summer day outside it was cool and dark, and smelt dank. The ground was crushed rock that ground painfully into his bare knees and there was a wall of damp stone to his left...

As he crawled along, fear of the dark began to grow in his young head... spiders... rats... 'I'll go back and get a torch', he thought to himself, so he had an excuse to leave without being a coward. But his eyes grew more accustomed to the dim light and he began to see some details in his surroundings. His heart started beating a little less rapidly and, taking a deep calming breath, he took stock.

To his left was the outcrop of damp natural rock that the top floor of the house was built on and to the left was a timber wall that faced into the downstairs part. Between the stone and the wall was the narrow alley of gravel that he was kneeling on. It stretched ahead into the darkness.

He began to make out timber studs and risers, and electric cable and copper water pipes that ran all over, like a map of the Underground you might see on a train.

This is where the illumination was coming from. There were two or three small drill holes where cable or pipes had been removed at some time in the past. Thin beams of light shot through these like lasers reflecting off the motes of dust and the wet rock.

One of these little holes was just a few feet away.

He saw there was enough room to stand up. When he was upright he edged along the wall as quietly as he could until he reached it. With his hands spread on the back of the flaking drywall, he put his eye up to the little hole and peered through...

He heard Ms. Handcock's old croaky voice before he saw her.

"... and yu don't know what they're missin... mmm... nooo they don't... all so stupid..."

He could see a bright sunny bedroom with frosted glass windows stretched right across the far wall and there was a bed and a wardrobe... and then...

Ms. Handcock... jesus.... old Ms. Handcock, totally naked, moving about the room, the late afternoon sun, bathing her body in a flattering golden light.

Harvey had timed his first adventure in voyeurism perfectly. He didn't know it then but he'd caught his old neighbor in the throws of her 4.30pm masturbation session...

Shivering with excitement Harvey Besinger's cock immediately became instantly and painfully erect. His elderly neighbor was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

The old woman was rubbing between her legs as she walked about. One hand was on her hip the other was playing in a forest of curly brown pubic hair, fondling herself in a regular continuous petting motion, like one hand clapping... (fap fap fap fap fap fap).

"...mmm... I would do them all so well..." she said, talking huskily to herself, lustfully imagining some secret sexy scenario involving lots of men... (fap fap fap fap fap fap)

Her body absolutely blew Harvey's young mind. He couldn't imagine how the old lady could have hidden such an incredible body.

Without even thinking he released his massive tool over the elastic of his shorts and fondled it lovingly as he watched Jocelyn parade naked around her bedroom, listening to her dirty talk as she played with herself...

Even as he drooled over the old woman's fabulous body, he thought how her face, which he'd always thought was unpleasantly hard and mean, looked softened and... well... pretty. He'd only ever seen her auburn hair up in a bun. Now it lay loose down her back... all the way down to her large protruding ass...

The curvaceous round bottom was awe-inspiring. Fleshy cellulite legs tapered up from slim ankles and calves to the fat thick thighs required to support those massive bum cheeks.

Like a lovely big ripe pear with legs, he thought.

Massive football-shaped udders draped seductively over a cute round pot belly with great big nipples adorning the ends, pointing heavily down at the ground. They were big purple pegs, nearly an inch thick and twice as long...

It was these nipples that made Harvey groan out loud, almost giving the game away. He slapped his hand over his mouth as Ms. Handcock swung around, looking for the source. She looked around the room left and right and all around, especially right in Harvey's direction - but apparently, there was nothing to see.

"Probably a cat," Harvey heard her say.

She continued looking in the frightened boy's direction however and Harvey began to think she was looking right at him. He was on the verge of making a run for it when he realized she was looking at herself in a mirror that must be hanging on the wall beside him, out of his field of sight.

"...mmm... I would suck their yummy knobs," she groaned as she studied herself masturbating, pinching the big nipples hard. (fap fap fap fap fap fap) She used her big nipples like handles to lift her tits up, one a time, lifting her massive football tits up and letting them drop...

Harvey could quite clearly hear the squelching sound of her fingers inside her pussy. The old woman's cunt was dripping wet... (fap fap fap fap fap fap)

"MMMMmmmm ohh yesss..." she groaned. "Oh yesss... fuck my ass you bastard (fap fap fap fap fap fap)...

The lust-crazed old lady sat down on the bed in front of him and then lay back, stretched out voluptuously. He could see every inch of her, lying just a few feet away, on top of a bottle-green knit blanket that lay over the top of her small single bed.

"Mmmmm bite 'em... bit 'em as yu fuck me..."

She spread her legs wide and continued masturbating herself, her hand now a blur over her clitoris, the other squeezing those big nipples mercilessly.

I'd bite them for you, Ms. Handcock, he thought breathlessly to himself. I'd bite 'em as I fucked you, just how you like it...

After a few minutes, he saw her eyes were closed and her groaning was getting louder, muttering little blasts of talk, daydreaming about fictitious lovers...

"....mmmm... put it in... lovely lovely... mmmm OOOOH YESSS... mmmm....FUCK ME... FUCK ME..." (fapfap, fapfap, fapfap)

Harvey's unblinking eye peered through the little peephole as the dowdy old woman rubbed her pussy, listening amazed to the gutter talk coming from her normally virtuous mouth, whipping sweat out of his eyes... pounding his cock...

Hearing the puritanical old woman swearing almost made Harvey blow his load. He had to stop jerking for a moment or he'd have cum there and then. Gasping and gritting his teeth he closed his eyes and held his quivering dripping cock in an iron grip, desperately trying to hold back the jet of cum threatening to erupt from his balls.

When he was back in control he timed his stroking with her hand, determined to cum when she did. The sexy old broad was edging herself now, expertly keeping herself on the brink of her orgasm. Harvey did the same, slowly stroking his huge cock in a double-handed grip... cupping his balls...twisting a hand over the big purple crown...

"Oh yesss... mmmm... Oh fuck yesss... mmmm... ah yes... yes... yes... " she gasped, her abdomen heaving... her breathing fast and eratic...

Her old body rocking up towards her hand, lifting her big ass off the mattress...

"MMMM.... oh yes, yes, yes MMMM... oh yes, yes, MMMM... OH... OH... OH... "

He watched her twist the big thick nipples between thumb and forefinger, lifting her fat saggy tits up, first the left one then the right... impossible squeezing and twisting...

Then her body bent like she was in pain...

"AHHHHHHHH YESSSSSSSSS.... FUUUCCCKKKKK MEEE..."

As her mighty afternoon orgasm wracked her old body, Harvey shot out load after load of cum, spraying his hot jizz all over the back of the wall, biting his lip hard so as not to cry out himself.

Not that he need have worried. The old woman was wailing like a boiling teakettle. If someone had heard her outside they would have called the police.

She milked her pleasure with practiced skill, her body flopping up and down as if she was having convulsions. The stunned boy saw great waves of liquid squirt out of her with a gushing sound... whoosh!... whoosh!... whoosh! ... whoosh! ... splattering the dark green quilt and her legs and off the end of the bed to splash onto the floorboards.

Finally, she lay quietly, breathing heavily, her old chest heaving.

In the months that followed, Harvey became a regular visitor, watching his elderly neighbor masturbate herself to back-arching orgasms just about every afternoon.

At 4.30pm, after school, he knew he would find her bringing herself off. He only missed it if his mum wanted him to do his homework... "before you go gallivanting off somewhere!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A CUP OF TEA

Typically Jocelyn Handcock hated children even more than adults. The site of young people, having fun or doing just about anything, brought a sour cats-bum look to her pinched cruel face.

"Atrocious little heathens," she'd fume under her breath, or "filthy little monsters" ...or something like that.

Harvey Besinger however, the young fellow from next door, had lately become immune to her toxic comments and kept turning up like a bad penny.

In the past, on the rare occasions when she'd asked his mother if Harvey could do this or that little task, it would have been a very reluctant young man who shuffled over to help. Nowadays the slim young teenager was immediately front and center, doing her little chore quickly and well and then asking if there was... "anything else I can do for you, Ms. Handcock? ...anything at all?"

She began to wonder at the young man's attention. Was she imagining things? What in heavens name would a handsome boy like Harvey want with an ugly old woman like her?

Nevertheless, he seemed to keep rolling up. Jocelyn may have been rude and mean-spirited but she wasn't stupid. If it looked like a duck and quacked like a duck it was probably a duck and after the 'cup of tea' incident, she was sure of it.

Christian charity drove Harvey's mother into Ms. Handcock's parlor every week or so. Neither woman enjoyed it but both knew it was part of their Christian obligation to 'meet in fellowship'. So they endured their cup of tea and cake, gossiped about this and that, and then went their separate ways for another fortnight.

Neither woman was quite sure what to do with Harvey when he invited himself along one day. Eventually, they gave him milk and cookies and ignored him.

They were sitting in Ms. Handcock's lounge room, slandering someone or other, when Jocelyn caught young Harvey trying to look up under her skirt.

Whenever she sat down her knees spread innocently apart, a natural sitting style adopted by older women who couldn't conceive of anyone wanting to look between their legs anymore. The action was exaggerated when she plopped down in her overstuffed leather sofa. Her legs flared out in a most unseemly way and her skirt rode up her plump thighs.

When Jocelyn realized that Harvey had positioned his chair at her dining table in the perfect position to catch a glimpse of her knickers she was so mortified she didn't immediately react.

Full of righteous indignation she was about to report the situation to his mother ...but the words died unsaid on her lips. Such indecent behavior should have earned the young whippersnapper a cry of disgust as well as a stern talking to about sins of the flesh but...

She could see that Harvey knew he'd been caught. He was looking at her cranky face in horror. Big puppy eyes, silently begging her to not tell his mom.

Pursing her lips, she stared daggers at the young man from under her hooded brow. He mouthed the silent word, 'please' as his stupid mother prattled on oblivious to the drama playing out in front of her.

There was a large bulge in the boy's crotch.

Despite her ingrained dislike of the younger generation, she found herself flattered. Nobody had ever shown any interest in her before so this was new ground for the old woman.