Spare Keys

For a friend.

The heavy Victorian front door swung inwards even before Skye, shivering on the breezy doorstep, had time to take her hand from the bell-pull. It revealed a tall, lean, white-haired man in a dressing gown of such a dark brown that it almost disappeared into the shadows behind him. He had a phone to his ear, and glanced with distracted surprise at Skye's pleasingly rounded outline and, at that moment, pleading eyes..

He spoke into the phone in a voice that matched the dressing gown. 'Fine. How soon can you do it?'

Skye said urgently, 'Just let me in, James.' She was wearing a white vest, somewhat tight across her large and braless bust, and a pair of man's red-and-blue striped cotton boxer shorts, very tight across her hips -- and nothing else but goosebumps, though she modestly held a cardboard parcel in front of the tight crotch of the boxers.

A buzzing, indistinct voice came from the phone. James replied, 'Tuesday's no good for me, I'm afraid,' while standing aside so that Skye could slip past him. With his free hand he closed the door behind her.

Skye mouthed something at him with a questioning expression, and James pointed down the hall. She nodded, then wandered where he had pointed, glancing around. Seen from behind, the boxer shorts had ridden up on her luxurious rear to show more than a hint of underbum.

The underbum and its owner disappeared through a doorway at the end of the hall.

'See you on Wednesday, then,' said James. He put the phone in his pocket and followed Skye into his kitchen.

A huge antique built-in dresser took up most of one wall of the kitchen. Skye was already poking through an open drawer.

'Not in there,' said James. 'Assuming you're really looking for your spare keys and not,' he glanced at a jumble of objects she had excavated from the drawer, 'clothes pegs, a two-foot wooden ruler I keep for sentimental reasons and a leather dog collar.'

'Why would you be sentimental about a ruler?' asked Skye, turning to look at him curiously.

'If we're asking questions, why would a young woman turn up on a respectable older gentleman's doorstep with her vest moulding to her nipples?'

'Oh, it's not my vest,' said Skye, blushing and pressing one forearm across her nipples in a way that made the tops of her breasts bulge up above the neckline of the vest. No doubt she was unaware of this.

'That's not quite the point that needs answering, young lady,' said James, with a look that did not manage to entirely avoid her cleavage. Like Alcatraz, it was virtually inescapable.

'The doorbell rang when I was about to take a shower and I grabbed my boyfriend's boxers and vest from the laundry basket.'

'In order to brighten the postman's day.'

'I'd have brightened it a lot more without them. Anyway, the parcel was all alone on my doorstep when I got to it. Then when the door blew shut I dashed round to get my spare keys and your gatepost bashed my elbow,' as if James was the owner of an ill-trained gatepost. She put her forearm beneath her heavy bosom and rubbed the offended elbow. This jiggled her breasts, no doubt unintentionally.

James glanced at the jiggling, cleared his throat and said, 'I've had a lot of fun with that ruler.'

'Doing what?'

'Ruling.'

'Oh. I've heard about that sort of thing -- or -- you mean, like...?'

James narrowed his eyes and considered her. 'You don't have to get to your office?'

'Working from home. But you're right, I'm meant to be at my laptop.'

'Your keys are in the cupboard under the stairs.'

As he followed Skye back towards the hallway James said, 'I deduce your young man's gone out.'

Skye opened the cupboard door and peered in. 'Oh, he doesn't live with me. It's just that I do his laundry. He's super traditional for his age. It's pitch black in here.' There was a click as her hand found a light switch. Nothing happened.

'Now you know why I was phoning an electrician. Grope around a bit and you'll find what you're looking for.'

Skye laughed. 'I said that once. He was being a bit slow.' She glanced over her shoulder at James as she inched further into the darkness.

James gave an alarmed grunt and reached out to grab her well-cushioned hips. 'Look where you're going. You're about to tumble into my cellar. I should have warned you.'

'And I've made you take hold of me. I'm so, so sorry.' She shot him a smile.

James kept his hands on her hips. Something about her smile must have made him think that she couldn't be trusted near stairs -- he was surely too old and respectable to enjoy the feel of thin cotton stretched over voluptuous curves.

'Here, let me help you.' James caught her left hand with his own and guided it to a hook on the underside of the stairs. To keep her safe he slid his arm round her waist, which brought the side of his body against hers. There was a clink as her fingers met the keys. He said softly into her ear, 'If your boyfriend saw you now he might jump to conclusions.'

'He does tend to do that,' she breathed. 'Once, I got a bit flirtatious at a party, and he even threatened to

spank

me.'

'Oh no,' James said. His voice was a gentle rumble. 'But perhaps you deserve it.'

'Oh, I do. I definitely do.' She added plaintively, 'Only he never does

spank

me.'

'Is this how he never spanks you?' James asked, and landed a -- slap! -- on her right hind-cheek.

She gasped. 'Oh! Yes! Only, come to think of it, to be totally honest, he never does it a little bit harder than that.'

Slap!

Skye squeaked. A faint tinkling chink came from somewhere below them, and she said, 'Fuck, I've dropped the keys.'

'Hang on, I keep a torch in here.' James reached to one side, and next moment a circle of light was dancing over bare wooden steps that disappeared somewhere below. 'Can't see them. They must've bounced off the handrail.'

'Oh no! So let's go down there.'

When they reached the bottom of the stairs James flicked a switch, illuminating a low, small, warm room smelling of wood, with bare brick walls.

Skye said, 'Sort of... male down here.'

Much of the floor was taken up by a heavy wooden workbench with desk-lamps craning over it. These were unlit, but not far above their heads, a bulkhead fitting screwed to the floor-timbers shed a mellow light. Long scrolls of pale wood-planings had been swept aside under shelves of tools, and a rush-bottomed chair with a yellow cushion on it stood by the bench.

'Oh look, the keys.' Skye bent to pick up the keys from the floor. She did not crouch: her shapely cheeks pointed squarely, or roundly, at James, and they were exactly under the light. They stretched the boxers so tight that the seam at the back opened and showed the stitching.

She wiggled her rear, and James drew back his hand.

Slap! Slap!

Skye released a long, joyous breath. Then she straightened up, rested her forearms on the smooth, scarred top of the workbench, and stuck out her rear for more attention.

James paused to contemplate her curves, emphasised by the contouring stripes of the skin-tight boxers. Then he ran the palm of his hand over the full width of the taut cotton. Skye gave an impatient wiggle that made her twin globes quiver the stripes.

Slap! Slap!

Skye let out a soft groan. Then she suggested, 'Don't you think this could make a girl's butt too hot?'

James hooked his fingers in the waistband of the boxers. A moment later the waistband was beneath the pale hillocks of Skye's naked rear. Two moments more and the boxers lay crumpled round her ankles. As she freed her feet, the hillocks bounced, and James surveyed the landscape with evident pleasure. Meanwhile Skye grabbed the hem of the vest and pulled it up, releasing her breasts, which dangled so heavily that her erect nipples brushed the table-top.

James drew back his arm a bit further this time.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

Each smack sent a ripple through the soft cheeks and forced a short squeal from their owner, who had turned pink at both ends. She panted, 'You're so vigorous!'

James chuckled. 'For my age, you mean? If you want to know how vigorous I am, take a look.'

Skye turned. For a moment she was wide-eyed, then her lips parted in delight. For through the opening of his dressing gown, conspicuous against the dark-brown cloth, James's penis reared both high and mighty.

With a beckoning smile he heaved himself up to sit on the edge of the workbench. The dressing gown flopped open, putting his erection on full display. It jutted from pubic hair trimmed to a rug of mingled black and grey, with a line of coarse curls stretching up almost to his navel. His smooth ballsack was tight. Skye stepped towards him with her eyes fixed on his cock, took its stout, veined shaft between fingers and thumb, and stroked exploring fingertips up its length, not neglecting to squeeze it to appreciate its hardness.

She murmured, 'Bigger. And really -- senior,' and looked up at his face, blushing. 'I suppose it's time I admitted I find good-looking older men incredibly sexy.' She looked down again and said with a touch of wonder, 'I can only just get my fingers round it.'

'Hmm. Small hands.'

'I don't think it's that,' she smiled.

He leaned forward until his white hair brushed her forehead, looking down at her smooth young hand framing his swollen glans. She had her thumb and forefinger round his foreskin, and slowly slid it down and up, twice. 'Is this what you want?'

He replied thickly, 'That's beautiful.'

She raised her face, blushing, and explained, 'I ought to say, I'm actually not that experienced. My boyfriend's quite inhib --'

But James's greedy lips were on hers. He cupped his hands under her breasts, and as his thumbs stroked her nipples her hand tightened around his shaft.

After a gentler kiss he said, 'It's OK. I guessed.' Another kiss, then he took her free hand, and placing its palm against his balls, he closed her hand to cup them. She looked down attentively. 'Now like this...,' and guiding both her hands, he showed her how to pleasure his penis-head and his balls together.

After a minute she asked, 'Am I doing it right?'

'Mm-hmm.' He was lost in pleasure, his fingers gripping the dimpled softness of her rear while he nuzzled his mouth through her hair. For a while he kissed neck and ear open-mouthed.

He said into her ear, 'I could cum soon.'

She stopped. 'Oh! I was expecting that to happen inside of me. If that's OK. Um... Say if you don't like doing what I want to mention.'

James smoothed her hair away from her face. 'I like it.'

She smiled. 'You don't know what it is. It's -- well, he's never actually -- it's not that I'm unadventurous, but -- I mean, I've heard it's really good to be -- kissed -- down there. And, well, I've heard experienced older men do the best -- kissing.'

James hopped down from the workbench, his stiff cock bobbing merrily. 'Don't keep an experienced older man waiting. Lie down on the bench.' He took the yellow cushion from the rush-bottomed chair and put it ready for her head.

'Wait a minute.' She began struggling out of the tight vest. When her face was free of it she saw that James was looking at her breasts. 'I liked the way they bounced,' he said with a grin.

She put her arms behind her head and pivoted her torso so that her big breasts swung.

'You make me want to cum on them.'

'That's so crude!' she gasped. Then she giggled. 'If I'm honest, it's also sort of hot for me to hear.' And she put her hands under her breasts and lifted them towards him. 'Would you specially like it if it went on my nipples?'

'Yes, I would.'

'Filthy old man.' Beaming with eager anticipation she stepped onto the rush-bottomed chair, and from there, sat on the workbench. James slipped out of his dressing gown and tossed it over the back of the chair.

She lay on her back with her knees drawn up and her toes hanging over the end of the bench. One of the lamps was angled towards her. On an impulse she clicked it on and angled its brightness to shine on her sex. Between her thighs she saw James lustfully admiring her slit. She opened her legs wider.

Her outer labia were as plump as the rest of her, her inner ones light pink and glistening wet. Beneath her open thighs, the cheeks of her rear were two creamy-pale cushions. He put his hands on her inner thighs, pushed her legs back and wider, and moved closer. The lamplight caught his hair, so that to Skye his brow was haloed with white curls.

His first kiss was light, a butterfly's wing-stroke on her clitoral hood. Then he angled his head and took one of her outer labia between his lips to kiss it. Then the same the other side. And then he put his mouth over her clitoris and sucked. A long breath escaped her. His lips smacked as he released her clit.

Now he pushed on her thighs until he could put the tip of his tongue in her sex hole. He ran his tongue up between her labia and across her clitoris, then did it twice more. Skye was panting fiercely. She reached down and grabbed his head to force his mouth to stay on her clit. He obediently sucked it again. Then he slid an arm round her thigh, put hard masculine fingers above the sensitive pearl, and pulled its hood upwards so that it was exposed for his pleasuring tongue.

She started rocking her pelvis forward and back under his face. When he looked along her body he saw that she was dragging on her nipples.

Suddenly she panted, 'Stop.' James straightened up. She arched and wriggled her body along the bench, knees still raised, an urgent expression on her young face that made old James smile gently, until the cheeks of her rear just overhung the edge. His cock had wilted somewhat. She saw it and said, 'Give it to me.' He stepped close to her. As soon as his cock came in reach she gripped it in both hands. It began to stiffen at once. She pulled it towards her, and before the tip met her wetness he was as wood-hard as before, and she had to force it down to meet her hole.

He felt at once that he would be a tight fit, so he started cautiously. But when the head of his cock was barely in her she groaned, 'Want to feel it,' and dragged on his shaft with her hand. Then he drove in. As it filled her up, her eyes and mouth rounded in shocked delight. He leaned forward, his pelvis forcing her legs, and seized her nipples. She had treated her nipples roughly. As he dragged on them her breath was a long hiss, but she put her hands over his to crush them even tighter.

Once his every inch was buried deep in her, he drew back and began slow, forceful strokes. The strokes grew slowly faster, until suddenly her gasps turned to a groaning, 'Ohhh fuuck!' Moments later her body was quivering as she climaxed.

As she relaxed he halted, studying her face. Then he gripped her hips and started fucking her again. She gave a groan, but the moment he paused she gasped, 'No, go on.'

Her breasts rose and fell. He ploughed her harder, until her groans were frantic. As her back arched in a second orgasm he pushed deep into her, stayed deep and humped his crotch against hers. He let out a long hoarse breath and with a jolt his sperm was pumping into her.

When the waves of ecstasy had passed for them both she gave him a dazed smile. His cock had lost its full hardness, but it remained in the comfortable embrace of her sopping cunt. He leaned forward on his elbows and kissed her soft young lips.

The period of alternate kissing and smiling that followed might have continued for a while, but Skye suddenly said, 'Fuck, what's the time?'

James straightened his body and withdrew. His phone was in his dressing-gown pocket. 'Nearly 9.20.'

'Shit! I've got a Zoom at 9.30!'

'I'll lend you a coat.'

'Great idea.' She slipped herself down from the bench.

'You'll need tissues.'

'Sod that, I'll just have to do the Zoom with cummy thighs. Thank God I only have to dress my top half.' She snatched up the vest and boxers and sprinted for the stairs. James caught up with her as she was taking his voluminous herringbone tweed overcoat from the coat stand in the hall.

There was just time for a fervent embrace, his naked skin against rough tweed, before she ran.

But a few seconds later Skye was ringing James's doorbell again. This time she endured an impatient wait that had her almost jigging on the doorstep.

When the door opened James was standing in his dressing gown holding out her keys and her parcel. She took them, stood on tiptoe, kissed his cheek, whispered, 'We came together!' -- and fled.