I was working as an estate agent then. It was my friend's business. I hadn't been able to get a job since university and as my friend Alan said, I was a good chatup merchant so selling houses should be a doddle. It was too, and I enjoyed the work especially with the fringe benefits from hot little stay at home mums.
I spent my days measuring up houses, conducting viewings. I got to know the local market quite well and as my willingness to help out in other areas became known, business boomed. By helping out in other areas of course I mean screwing the yummy mummies while their husbands tried to get into the knickers of some teenage bimbo at work. They were usually very grateful. I was often the only relief from k**s and hubbies d***ken fumbles on a Saturday night.
Slowly my reputation grew as grateful mums told their friends and I started getting calls to sell houses that somehow never turned into actual commissions. I would be met by the lady of the house in some skimpy little number, offered coffee or a drink and then shown around the house. We always seemed to end up in the master bedroom, where she would have briefly disappeared while I measured up another room. Walking in, I would inevitably find her reclining in not very much across the king size. It's very difficult to turn down that sort of offer, even if you want to and usually I didn't want to. Why should I? I was 22, with no commitments and a queue of hot women ready to drop their knickers at every opportunity.
It really started getting interesting when I was about 23, almost 35 years ago now. I was sitting as usual on a Friday night in the bar of the Royal Hotel when I spotted her. She was blonde, not natural but done well, smart sexy clothes without going over the top, very good legs, expensive shoes. She looked about 40. She was sitting with a much younger bloke, probably only about 20. At first I had him clocked as a toy boy, but then I realised from the miserable face and attitude he had to be a son.
The place was crowded with the usual mixture of teenagers on their way somewhere else, lost tourists, and the regulars with nowhere else to go. Suddenly a place opened up at her table as a couple of tourists left. I grabbed my drink and made the most of the chance.
"Anyone sitting here?" I asked.
She shook her head while Sonny Jim glowered at me. I expect he was used to men locking onto her. Close to, she was older than she at first appeared, perhaps 45. What usually gives a women's age away are her hands and neck. Her neck was very nuzzle worthy - smooth and tanned, sliding down to a very nice bit of cleavage. Her hands were the give away -- slightly wrinkled compared to the rest of her, but with immaculate nails. All in all though a very nice package, certainly worth putting in a bit of effort on my part.
She saw me looking at her hands and spread them appreciatively.
"I own a beauty salon," she said "and I had my nails done before we came away. A women's hands always age first and I like to look after mine."
"Aha" I thought, "this one is vain" Always a good sign that. Women who are vain are more likely to believe you when you tell them nice things about their appearance and that way they start to believe you about everything else later. This looked promising; perhaps it wouldn't be a dry weekend after all.
"You said 'came away'. Are you on holiday then?"
"No, unfortunately, we are here for a funeral"
"Dammit," I thought. "Not much chance here then. Still -- persevere."
"A close relative?" I inquired, trying to sound solicitous and not too smarmy.
"Oh no -- my great-uncle. But Joe and I are, well were, his only relatives."
"So have you much to do with the estate? I know that can be a real bind."
"Well we have to sell his house and he had a business."
I perked up at that. Not only an attractive blonde, but also the chance of making a few bob in commissions. I pulled out a business card and handed it to her.
"I might be able to help you there," I said, trying not to sound too eager -- times are hard for us estate agents. "Why don't you give me a call tomorrow morning." I took back the card and wrote my mobile number on it. "Use that number -- anytime in fact."
I pointed to my name on the card "I'm Freeman Jones."
"So who are Carter and Carter?" she said.
"They have long gone. A friend of mine owns the business and I'm helping him out. Carter and Carter is an old business so it seemed best to keep the name in a small town like this."
Little Master Sunshine was still glowering at me, but I don't think it was anything I had said. He just looked a miserable sod, so I ignored him.
"Who was your uncle?" I inquired. "This is a small town, I know most businesses."
"He was called Henderson," she replied, "Allen Henderson."
God, I almost came on the spot. Henderson Engineering had been a big employer before the war, but had gradually declined. The prize though was the site -- almost 3 acres of prime land just off the High Street and another 5 acres or so on the edge of town.
She must have seen my face, because she smiled slightly.
"Did you know him?"
"I knew of him," I said. "Henderson Engineering was an important business here for years. I think you will do very well with those sites."
"Oh good," she said. "I didn't really know where to start"
"Can I buy you and your son a drink?" I asked. I didn't think the miserable faced tyke deserved one, but if it kept his mum happy.
"Joe isn't my son," she simpered, "he's my grandson."
"I can't believe that," I said, which was partly true, but merely made me up my estimate of her age. She must be at least 50. It didn't stop me wondering if I would get to fuck her tonight.
"Do you want a drink, Joe?" I said, on my smoothest behaviour.
"Nah," he grunted. "I think I'll try the club in the back, if that's OK, Gran?"
She ruffled his hair. "That's fine Joe, just take care and please don't get too d***k." She laughed. "I suppose that's probably too much to expect of someone your age. I was a bit of a hellion when I was your age, and so was your mum; that's why I'm a granny now."
He stood up and slouched off towards the rear of the bar, where the club entrance was. I expected his chances of getting laid to be 50:50. The local girls always jumped a new face in town, but he was so bl**dy surly. Maybe when some young Tracy had his cock in her mouth it wouldn't matter so much.
I turned to Granny. "What about you?" I asked solicitously.
"I thought he'd never get off his arse," she muttered, and then to me "I'll have a large gin and tonic please."
I obediently trotted off to the bar and was rapidly back with her G&T and another Scotch for me. Maybe it wouldn't be a dry night after all. Sitting down beside her, I turned to face her, drawing one leg up under the other as I did. I noticed her copping a glance at my groin. She didn't know I'd seen her, but old Percy obligingly twitched for her.
It was getting noisy now and I could hardly hear what she said. I leaned forward.
"I said, is there anywhere quieter we can go?"
"We could go to the lounge, but that will be full of geriatric farmers whose idea of the high life is shagging their neighbour's sheep instead of their own."
She threw her head back and roared. I hadn't meant to say that but it seemed to go down well. She leaned forward again. "Can you buy a bottle over the bar? A good whisky?"
I nodded, then leapt to my feet and went to the bar before she changed her mind. It had everything going for a good night indeed. By the time I had bought the whisky, a 12-year old Talisker, she was standing behind me. I could have sworn she gave my backside a squeeze, but when I turned she looked at me blandly. "Probably wishful thinking," I thought, "it's been a while since I found a real goer."
I offered her my arm as we went out of the bar and she slipped her hand into it. We walked to the lift, me ignoring the sardonic looks from friends just arriving. I didn't care, so long as I could nail this old girl to the bed a few times. She looked likely to be good fun.
We got in the lift and the doors closed. Immediately she pushed me back against the wall and grabbed my by the balls, squeezing them hard.
"I know your type," she said. "All you want is a good fuck on a Friday and Saturday night and a blow job if you are lucky. Don't worry, you'll get that and more, but don't try any other funny business, especially over the land." She twisted, hard.
"OK, OK," I said, "but if you keep twisting like that, you will be able to take what's left home in your handbag."
She laughed and patted my groin. "Just so we are clear."
The lift stopped at the ground floor reception area. The doors opened and in walked Major Grant. He was the local mayor and Tory party chairman. The woman with him was not his wife. I knew that because I'd had the odd encounter with Mrs Major myself and with the girl as it happened. In fact I knew she probably wasn't old enough even to be his daughter. She looked at me and I winked. She shushed me, eying the Major to see if he'd noticed.
"Evening Major," I said as the two of them stepped in. I say stepped, in practice they more or less fell in, each supporting the other, although I doubted if the girl, whose name I knew was Bonny, was quite so d***k as she seemed. "Having a pleasant evening I hope," I said sardonically. He just grunted in reply.
The doors closed and we all went up again. The Major and Bonny got out on the same floor as we did, they went into the room straight opposite the lift and we to the one next to it. As we closed the door behind us, she turned to me with an appalled expression on her face.
"Is that dirty old git going to take that d***ken tart to bed?"
"If he can get it up, he will. Local gossip is that he hasn't been able to do that in a while, so she's probably safe. I'm sure Bonny can take care of herself anyway. In any case, his wife will be on her back with the milkman by now, or the blacksmith, or whichever bit of rough she has taken a fancy too this week. It was me a few years ago." I didn't mention last month.
She sat down on the bed, appalled. "I though small towns were quiet, genteel places"
"Don't you believe it," I said. "Young Joe has probably had the offer of at least one handjob by now and that's for starters."
She shook her head, still amazed.
"Never mind Joe," I said, "lets get this bottle open and the show on the road." I grabbed the tooth mugs from the bathroom and poured us both a generous measure. She took the drink and knocked it back.
"OK," she said, "let's see what you are made of."
"Fine by me," I laughed and reached out to kiss her.
"No that's not what I meant. Get your kit off. I really want to see what you are made of." She laughed. "I always enjoy this bit."
"I'm not your local stripper you know," I said a bit plaintively. I don't like being at a disadvantage where women are concerned and being stark naked while they are dressed certainly does that. Still, if I was going to nail her, and she certainly seemed willing, I would have to go along with her.
I slowly started to unfasten my jacket, humming the stripper music as I did so. "None of that," she snapped, "just get your clothes off." I did as I was told, quickly stripping down to my shorts before removing them too. I made sure my shoes and socks came off first though. I hate standing there in my socks and nothing else. It makes me think of a bad porn film. She leaned back on the bed, and looked at me.
"Not bad," she said, "Turn around." I turned. "All the way around." By now my erection was sagging a bit under this rather severe gaze. She pointed, "wake it up a bit."
"I'd rather you did," I said suggestively. "No," was all she said. So, I did as I was told and slowly, because I didn't find this much of a turn on, my cock perked up a bit. She stood up and walked around me, slapping my backside, squeezing my nipples. It felt a bit like being felt up at a slave auction, I thought, which paradoxically perked me up a bit more.
She stood in front of and hitched up her skirt. "Eat me."
Obediently I dropped to my knees in front of her and putting my hands to her cheeks, kissed her full on through the soft silk of her panties. I noticed they were slightly damp, so clearly she wasn't entirely unaffected by this pantomime. I pulled the silk to one side and lapped at her pussy. She was still partly dry, so I trickled some saliva down off my tongue and carried on lapping at her, before sliding in a finger inside and gently massaging her cunt walls. I could hear her breathing harder now, so clearly I was doing something right. She grabbed at my head and pushed it into her. I could hardly breathe but carried on with finger and tongue.
I was hard now, my initial reluctance to stiffen long past. I tried to disengage my face, but she wouldn't let me. "Oh no you don't, " she said, "I come at least twice before you get a look in."
"Twice," I thought, "normally with old girls like this it's wham, bam and you're done." They didn't really want the sex, just someone to hold them for a while, because their husbands were like the old Major, trying to get it up with some d***ken slapper. Obligingly I carried on. She was warming up nicely now, her pussy swelling up and feeling soft and moist. I sucked down, tasting her, licking her out and fingering all the while. It took a while, but suddenly I felt her quivering. She lifted one leg over my shoulder and pulled me in tighter as she came. Her body shook, grinding herself into my face with each wave of the orgasm.
She stepped back. "That wasn't bad, young man."
I sat back on my heels and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "Thank you ma'am. You're quite tasty yourself."
She smiled, then turned away and rummaged in her case beside the bed, before coming up with several silk scarves. At first I thought they were for me, but instead she put them on the bed. "Now undress me," she said "and then blindfold me and tie me up."
"This is getting weirder by the minute," I thought. Obligingly however I stood back and looked at what she was wearing. I decided to blindfold her before taking off her clothes, so I wrapped the first scarf around her eyes, placing some black velvet pads over them first.
Once she couldn't see what I was doing, I went behind her and slowly unzipped her dress. It was a tight fitting piece with a low neck. I slid it over her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. I looked at the label and whistled; even I recognised that label and knew it didn't come cheap. I got her to step out of the dress. Underneath she was wearing a tiny uplift bra and very small string panties, exposing a well muscled back and nicely rounded cheeks. I squeezed her backside appreciatively.
From the front her breasts were small. The uplift bra had obviously been designed to make the most of what she had. I unfastened it and slipped it away. Now all she had on was her tiny panties and her shoes.
"Do you have any higher heels with you?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, "in the wardrobe."
I opened the wardrobe door to reveal an incredible pair of six-inch heels by Manolo. I smiled appreciatively. Turning back I got her to change her shoes. In the much higher heels, her figure was transformed. She stood tall, breasts hard and firm, somehow enhanced. Her backside was wonderfully rounded and protruding slightly backwards. I knelt behind her and kissed then bit each cheek in turn, then slipped a hand between her legs to feel her wet pussy. She was indeed coming along nicely.
I looked around the room at the furniture. There was a side table that looked promising. I took her arm and walked her towards it, then bent her forward so that her backside was now pointing out into the room. I tied each arm to the legs against the wall, so that her head was now almost touching the wall. I was breathing heavily now, my cock aching, but I wasn't finished my preparations. I took a small cushion and placed it between her head and the wall. I anticipated that this was going to be quite vigorous and didn't want to hurt her.
She was now spread over the table. I tied her legs to the table legs at the front, spreading them out to ensure a good access. She was still wearing the high heels, which brought her up to just the right height for me.
All this time she hadn't said a word. "Don't you want to know what I am going to do?" I asked. She shook her head. My cock ached even more but I wanted to make the most of the planning. I looked around. What else did I need? No, I was ready.
I stepped forward and pulling her panties aside I spread her cheeks, exposing her soft tight looking anus. For the first time, she whimpered. "Do I have to gag you?" I asked. "Yes please" she said softly. My cock throbbed as she said it. I picked up her panties and slipped them into her mouth. "Can you breathe?" She nodded. "If you find you are in discomfort how will you let me know?" She waggled her backside wildly from side to side. "Are you sure now?" She nodded again. I took a deep breath and parted her cheeks again.
A loud bang came on the bedroom door. "Fuck" I thought, "if that's Joe, he won't like seeing Granny bent over getting her arse fucked." I waited, hoping that whoever it was would go away. The bang came again. "Freeman, I know you are in there."
I recognised the voice. It was Bonny, the girl who had been with the Major. She didn't sound d***k now. "Freeman" she called again, insistently. "I know what you are up to," which she did indeed I remembered happily, "but I need your help."
I went to the door and opened it a crack, standing behind it so she wouldn't see my enormous erection. It didn't work though, because as I opened the door she pushed hard and it flew open to let her fall into the room. She quickly closed the door, then turned to look at me then at Granny, still tied to the table and laughed.
By now Granny knew something was up and was grunting like mad and swinging her arse from side to side. I looked back at her and then desperately at Bonny.
"This isn't a good time," I said. She laughed. She went over to Granny and whispered something in her ear. I couldn't hear, but whatever it was Granny calmed down. She turned back to me.
"I thought you were with the Major," I said. "He was well away with the drink in the lift, as were you I thought."
"I was just putting it on, trying to get him too d***k to perform. I was going to help myself to something from his wallet for the rent but he woke up and saw me. He wanted something back in turn, but I couldn't face him so I ran. I left his money, but he's still going to be mad."
"Not too mad," I pointed out, "we all know what he gets up to, but he still won't want to admit it in public."
"I suppose not," she said. "I was hoping to sl**p at your place tonight, just in case."
A germ of an idea struck me. "You could probably stay here if you like. Give me a hand here, if you know what I mean..."
She looked across at Granny, then back at me. "Are you meaning what I think you mean?"
I nodded. She laughed again. "Right then."
Bonny is what is called a fine figure of a girl. Middling height with big boobs and a nice rounded backside. When she is older she will almost certainly be overweight, but now she is glorious. I don't think anything will ever suppress her joy in life - and sex. She will try absolutely anything once.
I went over to Granny. "A change of plan," I said. "You'll get your way, but not yet." I motioned to Bonny to help me with the table. Together we picked it, and Granny, up and turned it round so that she was now facing the end of the bed. Then Bonny stripped off. For underwear she prefers traditional suspender belts and tonight was no exception. She stood in the middle of the room, all in black lace, boobs overflowing a tightly laced basque top, tiny panties and a suspender belt with black stockings. The stockings were a little the worse for wear after the Major's fumblings, but she looked great nevertheless.