The Old Fisherman felt incredible lucky to housesit Harry’s vacation place. It was out at the corner of the Cape, kind of a marshy region, where the Red Burn River spread out as it met the ocean. It was a magical place to catch bottom fish, flounder, plaice, and sole, with not much effort.

Harry had a beat up skiff, but it was hardly necessary to use it. Fun though, because he could row leisurely down to where he could just hear the waves on the breakwater, a spot just before the river grew narrow and more swift. But there was this one fine eddy where the stuff fish liked to eat churned around and it was there he would drop anchor and drop a line.

Harry didn’t usually give a shit about having the house watched. It was a beat up old shingled place, perfect for just letting it all hang out. But Harry had to go away and he had said that someone, probably kids looking for a place to drink and dope, had been leaving stuff in the place when he was away. H

e was mostly worried that some asshole would fall asleep with a doobie burning and set the place on fire.

“So, come on up and hang out for as long as you want, and see if you can’t scare off these unwanted guests.”

Piece of cake. The Old Fisherman gassed up the chevy pickup, leaving Sadie with the Honda and headed north. It was an easy drive. Picked up the key from the secret place and helped himself to some Sam Red Ale. Place looked okay. No obvious trashing. A Starbucks latte making a ring on the old hatch cover coffee table.

Nothing much to bother anybody for three days. Super quiet. Just the gulls and the wind. Some smooth, if unproductive fishing. He hadn’t found the spot yet. But then….

On day four he had gone out really early. Wanted to catch the tide coming in, or rather, right at neap, so he didn’t have to worry a lot about setting the anchor strong. It worked. He caught a flat fish and was looking forward to having it pan-fried for breakfast. Let himself in the kitchen door and stopped dead.

There were noises coming from the front room. Sexy noises. Now the Old Fisherman liked a good porno now and again. Sometimes it took something spicy to get him going, even with Sadie slurping his pecker while they watched. But he hadn’t been watching anything here, much less leaving it playing all night or whatever.

But there were distinctly moans and groans coming from the front room. Well, Harry hadn’t suggested that his place might be the local fuck palace, but it fit the picture. Still, how did they get in? He was sure he had left the front door locked. And whatever was still going on…. Loud.

The Old Fisherman picked up an axe from the pantry and crept into the kitchen. He’d love to surprise the crap out of these fuckers with their pants down.

He peeked around the arch into the family room that looked out over the marshes. A comfortable old Sears couch faced the big picture window. Someone was on the couch. One someone. College girl, probably, with thick messy dark hair and glasses. Pale with lots of freckles. Freckles all over, even down the long legs propped up on the coffee table on either side of an iPad. A pair of shorts were folded beside her with her undies neatly folded on them. She was still wearing a top. Looked like it was made out of red bandana cloth knotted above the belly button. But it was wide open and she was fondling a nice pale breast while her other hand was busy elsewhere. And it was really busy.

Her legs were spread and her sex was tilted up so the Old Fisherman could sometimes see how wet it was even from his cramped angle in the kitchen. Most of the fingers of her left hand were buried in it, and they were digging away for all they were worth, making very sexy wet sounds.

The iPad was playing a video of a muscular man with a very slick cock, and he was stroking it with some enthusiasm. No sound. His visitor was wearing earbuds, so she could clearly hear everything the man on the video was saying. To her.

But she wasn’t really listening, because she was at the crest of cumming. She was just letting every ache and twinge in her belly trigger a deep groan. Which came out between constant pants as she struggled to reach the top, her hand whipping against her sex, the other hand diving to dip in the moisture there and then returning with slick fingers to twist a nipple.

“Oh, come on! Come on! Give it to me! I need it so bad. Come. Come. Come. Oh, yeah. That’s got it. Here it is. Here it is. Ahhhhhhhhh.”

The stud on the screen shot a rope of white that actually bathed the camera lens, and his uninvited guest knotted up into a long moan.

Now the Old Fisherman could have taken that lovely moment to pop out and confront this mostly naked invader. But he was too horny himself, and too curious to bounce into the room with an axe and a hard-on. So he waited.

And after a while she uncurled, took a sip of a fresh latte and quickly put her underwear and pants back on. He ducked behind the arch as she shuffled into her flipflops, picked up the iPad and left by the front door, locking it behind her.

“She has a key!”

He went and did what she had been doing. Only then did he cook his breakfast.

He “slept late” the next couple of days, actually waking up about seven, but she hadn’t returned. The third day after a late night watching an old John Wayne western and drinking beer he heard the door clunk and lay there quietly, wondering if he had left anything in the family room that would clue her that he was there. He realized he didn’t want her to know, yet. But he did want to peek again. So he waited until he was pretty sure she had her earbuds in and then crept out of bed.

This time she was watching two ‘natural’ women with plentiful hair everywhere. They were practically climbing inside each other. Swallowing nipples whole. Munching on thick slippery labia, two, three, four finger, fist. Mouths agape. Faces sweaty and red.

Meanwhile, his ‘guest’ had her knees well-splayed and she was churning away at herself, teeth bared, nostrils flaring. It was almost as though she was angry at her private bits, beating them up, slapping at them, digging in and twisting her hips up to meet her hand. Finally, she gave a little scream and sat frozen, her face red, her belly tight, fingers inside churning. Collapse.

He sneaked back to the bedroom and went to sleep. Beat off with some enthusiasm when he woke up.

Naturally, she was gone.

He assumed she came several days that week. He came out to the hall once. She was pretty close to finishing up because she was loud and announcing:

“Oh yeah! Oh yeah, I’m so close…oh yeah, here it is…no, wait…wait…not yet. Not…yet. Oh I can’t….and, and, and, and, and…”

She yowled and the furniture rattled.

And he got so stiff it hurt, so he just let loose standing up; which almost made him black out. He crept back to his room and zonked out until noon.

In the evening, sipping an Adams pale ale he tried to figure the best way to take the situation up a notch. If he just popped into the room while she was patting the bunny she would likely freak and crash out of there never to return. A younger man might just take her however he wanted. But that just wasn’t him. Finally, he came up with a plan.

He went fishing. Early. But he had her routine down well enough now that he knew she would show up right around 6:45. So he timed it so he would be coming up the path from the water, rod and bait bucket and creel in hand just as she was rolling up on her bike and unlocking the door. He could tell, even from a distance, that she was in a hurry and pretty agitated.

As she put the key in the lock he stepped up on the porch.

“Harry lend you a key? Funny, he didn’t say anything to me about it. Didn’t say anything to me about me leaving and you house-sitting this week.”

She had frozen, key in the lock. Looking him over with a bit of a frown. He saw her mind say, “uh oh, a man. A stranger. He could be dangerous…. Nah, he’s kind of old. I could kick him in the balls and run.” All this in about three seconds. She went for the bold approach.

“Yeah, Harry gave me a key. He likes me to water his plants when he’s away.”

The Old Fisherman put down his fishing gear; held out his hand. Gave his name. Waited for hers. She didn’t give it.

“Well, I’ve been staying here this past week and I haven’t seen any plants that need watering. But I have noticed that you have come by pretty regular. Saw your Starbucks mug one day. And you did spill some ‘water’ in front of the settee one morning. Woke me up a couple of times. Pretty nice alarm clock. Couldn’t get back to sleep before I did what you did.

“Oh. Oh well. Oh shhhhhit. Oh my goodness. Busted. So. I guess I’d better go, since…. Are you going to tell Harry?”

“Nope. And you can stop thinking what you’re thinking. I’m not going to blackmail you and make you do me to keep my mouth shut. Not my style. Besides, Harry doesn’t give a shit. He just asked me to come up because he thought some junkies or rowdies might be tearing up the place. You want to tell me your name? I’ll say you stopped by to check his plants.”

“Nan.”

“Hi, Nan. Good to talk to you. You want to come in and drink your coffee as usual?”

“As usual? Really? You think I’m going to come in and sip my coffee and rub one out while you have your breakfast? I should go.”

He could tell she didn’t want to. Something was bothering her and it was a little more than being hot and bothered. Which she was. Kind of shifting from one foot to the other. He could almost feel the heat coming from her. He picked up his gear.

“You want me to go fishing again and come back in half an hour?”

She thought.

“Could you? Really? Oh what am I thinking? That’s ridiculous. And you would probably peek in the window anyway, right?” She was very agitated, hands moving, talking to herself. “But wait, wait; you have been here all week, right? And you know what I have been doing, right? You watched me, right? But you didn’t do anything. And now you are politely allowing me to leave. Only, only I need this. I don’t know what it is. Maybe the phase of the moon, or something is going on in my body. But I just need this release. Only I’m not really getting it, and I can’t try at home because my grandmother is right in the next room and my little brother is down the hall and this place is so perfect…. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, let’s go inside.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, I know this stupid and dangerous, but after all you have been here all this time already and didn’t mess with me; and I had an idea for today where maybe I could actually get it.”

She sat down on the settee. Took a sip of her latte.

“You like to watch, right? And you don’t have to touch me, right? So maybe you could get your own coffee or whatever and be over there or maybe behind me and watch me…? Yeah. That’s even exciting. I’m getting… just thinking about you doing that. Oh dang, I’m sorry, this is weird and I must seem like some kind of sex-crazed slut, but I really can’t help it. These feelings just wash over me; like right in the middle of work or my night class and shit. That’s why I try to work them out of me like this. It sort of helps.”

He was in the kitchen with his back to her; putting the fish on ice, putting the grounds into the coffee maker, putting bread into the toaster, peeling a banana.

“Can I have one of those?” So innocent.

“You want a banana?”

“Yup. I have an idea. I want to try a thing.”

He turned to her and saw that she was stark naked; knees spread wide; heels tucked up against her butt. Then he noticed the iPad. It was set up on the coffee table with the camera on selfie, close enough and tilted so it revealed a close shot of her pussy.

He handed her the banana.

“Thanks. And nope. I’m not going to stick it in there and pretend it’s a dick all rammin’ and jammin’ me. Men. You always think it’s about your dicks. Well, nevermind. I’m just going to do my thing as my mother says. I wonder if she know she is being dirty. Just like, girls are always saying that this thing or that thing sucks, but do they get the idea in their minds that they are really saying, ‘This thing gives blow jobs?’ I bet they don’t.”

Curiously, she had peeled the banana and was giving it a blow job. For real, Sliding her mouth up and down the white flesh until it was slick and slippery. Tiny moans emerged around it. Her eyes were closed and nostrils flared. The non-banana hand was pinching a nipple.

The Old Fisherman tried to be cool. The coffee bubbled and the toast popped. He nibbled his own banana. He buttered and jammed his toast, He poured and sipped his coffee. These little acts had never felt so sensuous. The burble of the coffee as it entered the cup; the scratch of the knife on the bread, and the way the butter softened and spread out; the stickiness of the jam. The roughness of the toasted bread on his tongue, the creaminess of the banana; the nutty steam of the coffee as he sipped.

Nan’s voice was beginning to get to him. She was panting as though out of breath. She was whining like a hungry puppy. The settee was creaking.

“Please. Just stand behind me and put your hand on my neck.” He did.

He was looking down her white freckled bosom, getting slick from her workout. Her nips were hard, puckered pink but so tight they were pale at the tip. She had the meat of the banana crushed into her clit and was urgently mashing it into a fine mess. The iPad was capturing this ten inches high; so she was staring at her own sloppy vulva as it spread and grew very red and wet. He had never seen anything quite like it. She was open very wide and the deep coral inside was flexing and pulsing.

“Look at that! Look. At. That! That is so amazing and filthy and deep. Oh I am going to come so hard. Watch me now! Watch that! Can you see it? Of course you can and your cock must be so hard!ˆIt must be so ready to shoot its jizz deep into me! Get it out now. Please get it out. Please! Put your hard cock right against my neck! Push the head right up against my cheek. Rub it there.”

He did.

“Rub it against my cheek until some slick stuff comes out. Yes! Now, now, now let’s keep going, yes, keep it going. I can feel it building up. Oh my tummy is so tight. Do you see how tight it is? It’s so tight it hurts. But I want more now. Here we go. I can feel it. Your balls are so hot against my neck. They are so full. Yes, they are just going to pour into me.”

Words stopped. He could feel the side of her jaw tight against his cock. Her teeth were clenched as she struggled to come. Her hips lifted and eclipsed the image on the screen. Fingers churned loud and wet.

And then she screamed. Her head pushed back against his belly, mouth agape, eyes rolled up in her head.

He spilled; emptied out his aching balls all down her front.

She spilled; pulsing hot little streams onto the coffee table. Her iPad was a mess.

One arm reached back and wrapped his waist as she shuddered again and again and again.

Finally she looked up in gratitude, eyes wide and wet.

“Thank you soooo much. I have been trying to get that for fucking ever. Now I don’t need to pee. Wow, I made a mess. My iPad may be ruined. And I’m all covered with…you…and banana. What was I thinking? But it felt so good while I was doing it. Oh! It still feels pretty good if I mush it right about…here, oh yes, that’s so… wait, wait I have an idea. Whoa, it’s kind of wicked. I never did that before, but….” And here she looked up at him upside down, biting her lip a little. “You like bananas, don’t you? Do you think, maybe, you would want to have a little more? I mean, I finished a bunch of it, but you could finish this here…. Whoa. What am I asking? A while ago I was just a girl trying, all by herself, to rub myself until I got that, that feeling I needed, and now I’m asking a man…okay, he’s an old man, sorry but…asking you to…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “…eat me out!”

She kind of wiggled all over, like she was feeling the idea of it; and her mouth was open, like she was waiting for his response.

“So…?”

“Why not…if you really think you want that, I’m happy to….”

“Uh huh. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that could be… should I…?”

“Just stay like you are. Don’t move an inch. I’ll get the coffee table out of the way. Now, hand me a cushion. Great. Okay, it’s going to get a little damp from the floor, but I can run a wash and Harry will be none the wiser; and besides, it may get wetter.”

Nan actually gave a little squeal as he got down on his knees in front of her. No kneeling on ceremony, he got right to work. Putting a warm hand firmly on each pale, freckled thigh he bent to his task.

The banana was a mess and tangled into her ample curly muff. It took creative licking and serious sucking to get all the banana bits off the swollen red flesh. But he was proud of his work. And Nan wasn’t having any objections; though the noises she was making were strange, coming from deep in her quivering belly. He knew what to do. This beautiful young woman had all the tasty bits he could wish for, and then some.

The only problem was that she had a rather large clit, and it was so worked up that it was bright red and way out of its hood. After he flicked it a couple of times and she squealed and bounced he knew to stay away from the tender tip and give his full attention to everything else.

No problem. He could have spent days just tasting the creamy thighs. Small moans. Pulling the swollen lips into his mouth and kneading them with his tongue unleashed a small fountain of words and sounds from Nan, already flushing red on cheeks, neck, and between her perky breasts.

“Oh. Oo. Oh. Oh, no! Eeee, that’s…. Oh, do that. Do that. Oh, nobody ever. Yes. Yesyesyesyes. Uh, uh, oh that’s….Moans, little whines, humming, teeny squeals, And she wasn’t still.

He kept his hands firmly on her and did his work.

“Let your hips move.”

“What?”

“Let your hips move with the feeling. They probably want to tilt up. Go ahead. That’s good. See, now I can get at you better. And I’m going to tongue fuck you.”

“Will it hurt? I’m…I’m a virgin.”

“Not at all. Relax. Or don’t. It’s up to you.”

He wrapped his lips around a bunch of her tender bits and pushed his tongue deep into the slick hollow, spreading the tender membranes. Holding tight to her thighs, he bobbed his head in close and then a little way back, tickling her with the tip before he plunged back in again. He kept this up quite a while, until he felt her let go. And now she was riding his face, twisting, scrubbing side to side and up and down. It was wonderful because she was so helplessly into it, making all sorts of inarticulate sounds, snatching at her breasts and then his head, not knowing quite what she needed but needing a little more and a little more.

He was trying to stay away from her clit, just eating all the rest of it as it grew more and more sloppy. Her belly would clutch and a few drops of clear liquid leaked out.

“Uhhuh uhhuh uhhuh uhhuh uhhuh uhhuh uhhuh uhhuh…uh huh…uh huh…uh oh…uh oh.”

Her mouth and eyes were wet and wide. A little smile. She was nodding to him as he peeked over her mound, licking hard and with a rhythm. She was ready.


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