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Don’t Tell!
By Dawn Ramble
Many of my followers do not disclose their bios. Those who do cover the gender spectrum and a wide range of ages including some lusty seniors. And while I hope it provides fun for all, this story is dedicated to them. Of course, not all are lucky enough to remain as virile as Walter, but as long as your libido is active you are never too old to enjoy sex even if it just involves intimate touching. It just takes imagination and creativity.
My name is Deirdre Park, I’m a teacher and would-be artist, married and in my early forties. I grew up in the city, but my earliest clear and vivid memories are all of the farm where my grandmother lived. That’s where I learned to milk a cow and ride a pony. My Dad was a salesman for some company and was always on the road. When I was little, he would put me on his knee or on his shoulder and make me laugh. By the time I was five he would just come in and drink a beer or two while he watched television and Mom served me my dinner. Then it was my bedtime and soon the two of them would be in bed too.
I had just turned seven when he left and Mum took me to Gran and Gramps’s farm while she tried to find us a smaller place to live. It was early June and school was almost over. I didn`t mind; Dad’s leaving meant little to me, and it never even occurred to me to wonder if I might be in any way to blame. I was surprised when Gran gently assured me it had nothing to do with me, and I was happy to assure her I had no worries on that score. After a couple of weeks Mom came up to stay and said we had a new place to move into at the end of the month.
It was some days later that Gran and Mom and I went for a walk. It was a really hot day and Gran said it would be cooler in the shade by the river. It was pleasant to walk there and after a bit we came to a wide pool with a waterfall.
“Remember this?” asked Gran and Mom said, “Of course, our favourite swimming spot. God, it’s so hot I wouldn’t mind a swim right now.”
“Nothing to stop you,” said Gran.
“I’ve nothing to wear.”
“None of us ever did.”
“I know but that was then.”
“Nobody’s here; I don’t see the difference.”
“What difference?” I asked, as I was confused but very much liked the idea of swimming.
“We don’t have our swimsuits. Gran and I used to swim naked here when I was your age. What do you think of that?”
I was silent for a minute or two; then I just said, “I’d like to swim. It’s so hot I really would,” and I started to pull at my t-shirt.
“Okay, I guess it would be okay if you want to, but we don`t have suits or towels.”
I was already stripping off my shirt and bending to undo my runners.
There was a waterfall as the end of the pool and at that moment a man came swimming from somewhere behind it. He swiftly swam to the far side and stood waist deep in the water facing us.
“Sorry, I heard your voices and thought that it was time I should be going. If you would just turn around for moment, I’ll get out and leave you to enjoy the pool in peace.”
Mom and Gran both turned their backs, but I watched as he climbed energetically out of the water and reached for his towel which was lying on a rock. He was tall and solidly built and although he looked quite old, he moved quickly and surely. He began to dry himself and turned sideways as he toweled vigorously. I knew men had penises; a boy who lived near me had surprised me a year ago when we were six by dropping his shorts and showing me how high up a wall he could pee. I remember I pretended to be grossed out, but I was impressed and envious.
Of course, I had seen statues and paintings of naked men at our museum, but I was startled by what I now saw hanging between this man’s legs. It was certainly bigger than I expected. I noticed Gran and Mom had also turned around and it rose as we watched.
“Did he know we were watching?” I wondered.
Then he turned his back and pulled on his jeans and plaid shirt before slipping on his trainers and quickly disappearing into the far bushes. I heard a laugh and saw Mom was blushing a bright red as she said, “Did I just see wha…”
“Yes, you did!” answered Gran, “I’d always heard Walt was big and they weren’t joshing.”
“Oh, my!” I remember Mom saying, “That’s one you would not quickly forget.”
“He’s got to be sixty, if he’s a day,” laughed Gran, “What a hulk!”
They may have said more but by then I was already swimming and heading for the waterfall. When I turned around Gran was already in the water and Mom was stepping in carefully. I thought she looked beautiful. She must then have been twenty-nine or maybe thirty and Gran a very active fifty-two. We all swam around and then stood together under the waterfall feeling the cold water fall on us. I loved the naughtiness of us all being naked together. It’s a memory I have never forgotten.
Later Mom’s words came back to me. I remembered Mr. Walt’s penis pointing proudly at the sky as though it had a will of its own although it was clearly attached escort kadiköy to his body, an image that remained in my mind resurfacing from time to time over my teenage years. At that time, I could not imagine what Mom had meant. Some years later, as I learned a bit about ‘the birds and bees,’ I recalled her words and wondered again about what she had said. Was it just that it was an image that remained lodged in the memory, or did she mean something more…? I didn’t know the right words for what I was thinking.
It was also about then that I started paying more attention to the animals on the farm, especially their penises. I realized the pony I was learning to ride on was a boy when I saw it dangling down a couple of days later. It was even bigger than what I remembered Mr. Walt’s to be.
The years passed and at least once a year I visited my grandparents on the farm. By the time I was fifteen Mom started going on dates again, but never really found a steady relationship. Sometimes the man stayed over, which at first, I found embarrassing, especially as they sometimes wandered into the bathroom naked. I observed that while some looked bigger than others, none ever looked like Mr. Walt.
When I was seventeen Gramps died just before Christmas, and Mom and I went to be with Gran for a few weeks. Mr. Walt was among the villagers who came to the funeral and offered his condolences. Despite the passing years it seemed to me he had barely changed. I learned his name was actually Walter Morgan, and he had been born in Wales. He had a very quiet voice and manner despite his tall and burly physique. When we shook hands I felt it lasted a moment too long. Was it him or me? I found he had kind eyes full of empathy as he expressed his regrets for the loss of my grandfather even though he said he had not known him well.
I noted he held Mom’s hand in the same manner as he spoke quietly to her. When he reached Gran I saw he clasped both her hands within his own. Hers seemed tiny within his. Back at the farm Gran said what a very kind and gentle gentleman he was, and we all agreed.
Some weeks after school ended I asked Mom if I might go and stay with Gran. I would be starting at university in September. Mom had started a new relationship, and I felt it might benefit from my absence for a little while. He seemed nice and I was at an age where I didn’t need him to be my new dad. Mom seemed slightly hesitant after she spoke to Gran on the phone, but then said, “Of course, just try to be helpful and fit in.”
I arrived close to dinner time. Gran met me at the door, and I was surprised to see Walter standing behind her. He took my suitcase and carried it up to my room with greater ease than I might have. How old was he? Gran had said he was at least sixty when she was fifty-two and she was now sixty-four. He had to be at least in his seventies, but he seemed as vigorous as ever. After dinner Walter said he should be going, but Gran urged him to stay. The house had four bedrooms, although the one that Gramps had used as his dressing room was now Gran’s sewing room or so she called it. It also still had a single bed. I think she used it more for reading and naps than needlework.
As Gran and Walter sat watching television I went up to my room to read. Around ten I heard them come upstairs. Walter was in the room at the far end from mine and Gran’s was next to the bathroom at the other end. At around ten-thirty I went to brush my teeth, and I turned out my light ten minutes later.
At some point I am vaguely aware of the soft footsteps of Walter going to the bathroom. I wake again to find the earliest light of dawn peeping round the edges of the blinds and I need to pee. I lie for a moment…no, I really need to pee. I get up, pull my sweater round my shoulders and hurry along the landing suddenly remembering there is more than just Gran and I in the house. I hope Walter doesn’t emerge as my sweater does little to cover my nakedness. I slip silently into the bathroom and sit down. I was right, I really need to pee.
I hear footsteps coming closer. I am sitting there in the dark. Did I lock the door? I have an image of Walter entering, possibly penis already in hand, but the steps continue further.
As the flow of my urine stops, I become aware of the rhythmic sounds of movement from Gran’s room and the occasional creaks of the bedframe.
I know these sounds from some of Mom’s better dates. On more than one occasion I have brought myself to orgasm while listening. Now an image of Walter’s massive cock fills my mind. Is it really as big as I remember? I wipe, stand up and tiptoe to the basin to wash my hands. We don’t flush pee at night as the toilet’s old and noisy. I quietly open the door (I had not locked it) and slip out. I’m about to turn to my room away from the ever more audible sounds they are making, when I notice the door is not fully closed. With just four silent steps I am able to peek in. Walter and Gran are both on the bed, he on his back and Gran escort bayan squatting riding up and down his thickness with her eyes closed and a gentle smile on her lips. She’s facing him and almost facing me as the bedroom door is close to the bedhead.
At that moment her eyes open, and she’s looking right at me but shows no recognition, maybe because she isn’t wearing her glasses or maybe because she does not wish to. She bends forward and whispers, and with a quick and apparently practiced set of moves, she’s rolled over onto her back knees pulled to her chest and he is on top with outstretched arms. Then their fucking gets serious. He too is now facing me but not acknowledging me.
They’re lit by the growing brightness leaking through a gap in her curtains. Avoiding his eyes I find myself moving further into the room only feet from them. As I move, I can see Gran’s fingers slowly but surely massaging the swollen nub of her clitoris. When I turn to stand below the foot of the bed, I find myself face to face with Walter’s sinewy rear. I watch the rippling movement of his thigh muscles and glutes. I’m no more than a foot from his naked arse and huge balls and figure he must shave himself down there.
Then I am bending lower to watch as he continues to plunge into her with vigour. His thick shaft is covered in her juices or perhaps an excess of lubricant or both. He pauses and pulls back, and she shifts her legs onto his buttocks before he thrusts in again. I step back a foot or two straightening as I do so. I still have a clear view as each deep thrust spreads her juicy swollen labia until he is fully buried and once again all I can see is his butt before he withdraws only to thrust again with ever-increasing velocity. That’s when I realize that my fingers are rubbing my clit with almost the same ferocity. I feel the slow but inexorable build towards a climax that I am struggling to repress. The room is full of the smells of sweat and sex, and my urgency grows with every intake of breath. Gran begins to moan and then suddenly cries, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh, Jesus now, now!” and in my head I am echoing her words.
It seems both our prayers are answered. I see her legs pull off him as her pelvis is wracked with spasms and I’m struggling to keep my feet as I too am overcome by an unbearably pleasurable series of cramping shudders. Suddenly I feel my eyes roll back and lose my balance collapsing to the floor. I am perhaps momentarily unconscious. I regain my senses to find Walter standing over me. I look over to see Gran seated on the edge of the bed with an undefinable look on her face. Turning back to Walter I’m very aware of his still powerfully erect penis as he offers a hand to raise me from the floor. You may think old people’s bodies are ugly but not his. Yes, he shows all the signs of his age, but despite his wrinkles his body is still quite muscled, even if in places it is a victim of gravity. In my years of art, I have seen many bodies of older people not all in as good shape as his but found beauty in all of them.
“I’m sorry,” says Gran, “but when I saw you watching us, I told Walter “We have an audience’.”
So, she had seen me and no doubt so had he.
“I’m so embarrassed, Gran. It was unforgivable to watch but I couldn’t help myself.”
“I understand. The women in our family have always had very healthy libidos. I am a compulsive exhibitionist and voyeur myself, as you saw. Watching your growing pleasure as you masturbated only added to my experience. I hope yours was as good as mine.”
I nod too tongue-tied to say anything.
She looks over at Walter and back at me and then asks, “Are you a virgin, Deirdre?”
I hesitate and then say, “No, Gran, but don’t tell Mom.”
It’s the truth although I’ve only done it once with a boy who was my date for the evening at the graduation prom. It was a month after my eighteenth birthday out in the gardens among some bushes, and we weren’t fully undressed. In fact, I was wearing my prom dress, and he still had his tux on when he dropped his pants. It had just started as kissing and feeling each other up. I moved the straps of my braless dress so he could fondle my breasts and then kiss my nipples. Then he unzipped and guided my hand to his growing erection. In retrospect it wasn’t large, probably quite normal, but I was thrilled by the soft and hard feel of his maleness. Since that occasion I’ve found opportunities to feel a few more even giving hands jobs and my first blowjob. The sensation of running my tongue around and sucking up and down a growing hardness was exciting. I could not understand those of my friends who thought it was gross but was reticent about my own enjoyment.
On that particular occasion, on prom night, I remember checking nobody was watching as he lifted my dress to my waist and pushed a finger into me. I guided him to rub my clit although I was already quite wet. He forgot my breasts and slid my panties down and off my legs. Then I remember he examined my lady parts in greater detail with both escort ataşehir his eyes and probing fingers, as if studying for an exam. With his repositioning I had lost my grip on his cock and my fingers moved to show him where and how to pleasure me. At some point he, or I, must have pushed his pants and underwear down until he had one leg free and it was like that, barely half naked, that we completed our first and only act of sexual intercourse. Hardly an epic fuck, but a successful if ultimately unexciting deflowering; virgin no more.
These details are flowing through my head as I answer Gran. She is looking at me expectantly nodding towards Walter. What is it she’s expecting? Suddenly I know the answer and before I can believe what I’m doing, I hear myself say, “Walter, (it’s the first time I’ve addressed his as such) would you…would you fuck me?” It takes all my courage to say “fuck”. It needed less for me to contemplate what the actual act might entail.
He looks at me curiously, “Are you sure you want to? I mean I am quite large, not much shy of nine inches.”
“I’ve seen.” My libido’s on steroids, and nothing is going to stop me now.
He still hesitates.
“Go on, for God’s sake! You know you want to. When did you last fuck a willing teenager? She wants it; you want it…and I want to watch. Make an old lady happy,” Gran says, laughing. This is a side of my grandmother I have never seen or even suspected. I wonder if my mother has ever seen this side of her. If she has, what did she think?
As Gran slips off the bed Walter picks up my hundred and thirty pound, five-foot nine inches with no apparent effort and places me on the bed where he joins me. He spreads my legs and begins to run his tongue around my sex probing and sometimes lightly sucking on my clit or aroused pussy lips in a manner I have never experienced before. The expression ‘eating me out’ pops into my brain as I feel myself building towards another climax. He stops. Gran hands him a tube of lubricant which he applies generously to my highly aroused vagina as she goes to open the blinds.
“Get on top!” he commands, moving under me to lie on his back.
“If you squat like your Gran did, you’ll have more control of the depth of my penetration.”
As I move into the squatting position, he holds me up with one hand while he positions his still firm if not fully rigid penis below me. Together we slowly lower me until I feel the touch of his penis between my parted lips. As his hand holds the massive head upright, he begins gently inserting it into my slowly distending cunt (“There”, I think, “I have finally used the ‘C’ word in it’s most basic and original context.” I rarely use it anyway, but this is definitely a first.)
As these girlish thoughts pass through my head, the relevant parts of my body are adjusting to accommodate the full width of his cock. The sensation is both interesting and exhilarating like nothing I could ever describe, not really painful, but stretching and I’m grateful for the lube. My vagina opens wider as he sits up behind me, and I descend further onto him. The recent images of Gran’s swollen labia fill my mind. Suddenly I’m overtaken by a small but spontaneous orgasm, a product of both my imaginings and the unusual and pleasurable sensations of his continued entry. Walter senses it and pauses motionless within me as the feelings subside. A moment of sharp pain as what I guess to be my cervix hits his cock but then it eases past and delivers a new set of deliciously sensual thrills from deep within. Then before I expect it, we have, as the astronauts say, ‘completed our docking manoeuvre’. I feel he is fully buried within me all nine or however many inches.
“Wow!”
The problem I have now is how to raise myself. I am unable to move. I just feel the heartbeat of his cock pulsing within me. Reaching back with his arms Walter now raises himself to a sitting position and lifts his hip and rolling over he’s now on top with me skewered firmly beneath him. We lie like that for some moments before he starts slowly withdrawing until I feel he might be in danger of falling out. He is barely still within my lips before he slowly thrusts back in awakening all the sensations anew. He begins to repeat the process a little more quickly and vigorously each time. By the fifth or sixth repetition I’m climaxing again and continue to do so as he speeds his thrusts. I’m riding a mounting wave of unrelenting spasms and praying he’ll stop whilst also fearing he will. I am being rubbed raw as the lube is long gone, but the pleasure is infinitely worth it. I don’t raise my legs as Gran did but rather spread my thighs as wide as possible while keeping my knees tight against my breasts.
He’s panting and grunting as he rams into me, and I sensed he is close. I know I can’t contain my impending climax much longer. I shift my legs pulling him closer and wrap my feet tightly behind his thighs. He lifts us both for one more forceful thrust. One moment I am staring up at his half-smiling, half-grimacing face…a drop of his sweat falls on my face as pauses buried to the hilt. Then I’m conscious only that he is about to withdraw, and every muscle that I have in my cunt locks onto him as my orgasm overwhelms me. My last conscious sensation is his hardness jerking within me.
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