There is a guy with a big cock exploiting a drunk and drugged older woman. All her holes are used. If you're not into that kind of fantasy, skip this story.
And if you like it, leave a high vote, and we'll see if there is more to tell about Garry and Miranda.
Vacation Time
"Hmm, Mrs. Meyer, I love your nipples!" he said in a low voice, then licked and bit into them.
She threw her head back and...
"Bing"
His hand moved down, and his fingers found their way into her slick slit.
"Yes, yes, Garry, oh Garry..."
"BING!!"
Mrs. Meyer's naked body faded away as his mind slowly made it to the real world.
"BING!!"
"Yes, damn it!" He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked with half-asleep eyes at the display of his old-fashioned alarm clock. "Why would I set the alarm to five?"
His fingers barely made it, but he prevented it from making another sound. He stretched his arms and yawned. There was a cool breeze from the window, and he walked over to look into the street. His boner went slowly limp.
"Are you awake, Garry?" his father's voice came through the door.
"Yes, Dad!" he yelled back. He closed the window before turning on the light.
The warm water of the shower reminded him of the warm hands of Mrs. Meyer in his dream, and his right hand began to stroke his boner.
"Hurry, son!" his mother called through his door.
"Damn!"
His hair was still dripping wet as he took his backpack and hurried downstairs.
"About time you finally showed up," his father, Raymund, growled.
"Give the boy his space, Bear," his mother, Belinda, scolded her husband.
"Don't encourage this, Bella. He's a pussy as is," he retorted.
"Raymund Clark!" Belinda said sternly.
"
Fascinating, Dad is a foot taller, and yet she seems to look down on him,
" Garry wondered, and not for the first time. His father was a tall man with broad shoulders. His nickname, Bear, had a strong base in reality.
"Anyway, we've to hurry!" his mother remarked.
"Don't look at me, Mom," he said and looked meaningfully at his Dad. "I'm ready to drive you two to the airport as soon as your stuff is in the car."
A few minutes later, he finally started his car, and they were on the way to the airport.
"We'll be back in a month. Don't wreck the house!" his father told him sternly.
"Of course not, Dad. You think anybody would come to a party of mine?"
"You're right, son. For once, it's good that you're such a nerd."
"Bear!"
"Yesh, yeah," he mumbled.
"He didn't mean it that way, Garry," his mother's voice came from behind.
"Yes, Mum, he did. But I don't mind."
He parked right in front of the airport, and his parents disembarked. He helped get their luggage out of the trunk and onto the cart.
"Come, we're late!" his father yelled, pushing the cart inside.
He hugged his mother one last time goodbye. "Have a good time, Mom," he said softly, and she kissed his cheek.
He waited a minute to see if they would return, then started the car and drove home.
--<>--
Garry parked his car and stood on the sidewalk. Their house was at a dead end, and he could see houses to the left and the right. It was around 7:00 a.m., and the first came out to drive to work.
"Good morning, Mr. Ngyen," he called, and the other waved back as he got into his car.
Garry watched Mr. Ngyen's wife, Kim, waving goodbye, then packing her kids into the car and leaving herself. Turning to Meyer's house, he noticed a shadow in Zara's window. When she became aware that he saw her, she turned and vanished.
He shook his head in disbelief. "
How could a woman like Miranda Meyer have such a bitch as daughter,
" he mused, "Especially if they look so alike!"
"
How silent it's in here, now that they're gone,
" he wondered and made himself a coffee. "
No use trying to get back to sleep. Can as well get to work on my project
," he thought tiredly.
Alone
The doorbell announced a visitor, and Garry went to open the door.
"Oh, Mrs. Meyer," he said with pink cheeks as the stuff of his dreams stood there with a tight crop top.
"Your mom asked me to look after you for a bit. Truth be told, Zara and Brad are gone for the coming weeks, too. So perhaps you can come over from time to time to talk?"
"To talk? With me?"
"Yes, Bella told me you aspire to be a sketch artist. She showed me what you gave her, and I must admit that I'm impressed by the fine details."
He looked at her, gaping.
"You do know that I'm an arts major?"
"N...n... no, Mrs. Meyer. I had no idea!" he stammered.
"So, it's a deal, then. You come over for dinner, and if you're a good boy, I'll show you my studio."
"Yes...." He began, but she had already turned, and his mind went blank as he watched her ass wiggle in those tiny hotpants.
His hard cock pressed painfully against his pants. He looked down, "