The Old Woman

I woke up each morning thinking about Evelyn. Well in truth I thought about her through the night too. But I tried, successfully for the most part, to keep the sheets unstained; I wanted my fluids entering the old woman's mouth, or covering her face. Anything else seemed a waste.

"You must want my eyes," she remarked one day, in her mild way, as she led me into the house. I didn't know what she meant at first. But she meant her eyes as targets for my ejaculation. As soon as I understood that I was instantly erect, rock-hard as only she could make me. She saw it, of course, and smiled complacently.

And today she knelt for me. I murmured something about kneeling being too hard on her knees, but I said it panting, impatient for my pleasure. In the spirit of things, she got to work on me straight away, with vigour. But looking up at me now and then. I looked closely at her eyes this time: they were green with flecks of brown, not beautiful; old woman's eyes. But she'd made them incredibly hot by what she'd said.

It was not long at all until I started to come and this time I aimed straight at her right eye. One rope crossed her face on the diagonal, but covering the eye as it passed. All the rest landed right on target, until at the end I turned to her left eye and landed some there too, just enough to glue it shut.

Blinded now, she gave that self-mocking smile. "My goodness." Then her smile faded as she bent to clean the head of my cock with her mouth. That accomplished, she leant back, and asked my permission to wipe my cum from her eyes. I granted it, moved by her submission -- unique in my experience. Then she laid her small withered hand on my young, muscular male thigh.

I helped her up, and she could not help wincing at the pain in her knees. (But from then on she would always kneel for me, dissing herself at times for her selfishness in having used the stool at first.)

I drank coffee; she stood close by. It was our after-service routine now. She told me about Japanese girls who held their eyes open for the cum -- she'd never been able to do that, she admitted, she always winced. She said I deserved a Japanese girl, adding that they were nice and delicate and never selfish -- unlike local Australian girls. I suspect the Japanese girls were far enough away from us for her not to hate them as rivals. My cock stirred, sated though it was; it was like my cock was promising more pleasures to come.

I got ready to leave. When I stood close by like this, I was intensely aware of our size difference. She was just so frail and short. I squeezed her hard and kissed her head. She took it but did not respond. That was her way.

At college I thought about her all day. In class I looked at the boys around me-- men, basically, and probably at their sexual peak. I wondered how many would have done what I did with Evelyn, given the chance. Would they have got all afraid, or guilty, or repulsed? Would they have talked about her, laughed about her, bragged? I wanted to invite them over to join me, because it felt hot to think of her having to service other guys as well as me, but I never did. I didn't want some idiot judging me, or reporting me, or taking my place.

At home, my mother ruled the roost. She was smart, cold, and quite often scary. It wasn't long before she got suspicious of my daily visits to an old lady after college, supposedly helping her out around her home. The story didn't strike her as a close fit with the son she knew. Not that her suspicions struck anywhere near the actual truth. She warned me time and again of easy girls and easy pregnancies. And I am pretty sure she rifled my room and college bag in search of drugs.

One day I discussed her with Evelyn. We agreed that I'd give my mother her landline number (the only phone she used) to get her off my back. "An unfriendly woman," my mother said to me later, after phoning Evelyn; she told me how surprised she was that I treated the old lady so well ("a selfish boy like you" was the subtext). Was this Mrs Talbot giving me money? No, I said.

No-one is more respectable than a home-owning old woman in a nice leafy suburb, but my mother smelt a rat; she gave Evelyn an unannounced visit the next day, when I was not around. But Evelyn was no fool. She did the helpless old lady thing, and showed my mother the work around her place that needed doing (all true) and how I had helped her with it (a little bit true) and she thanked my mother for letting a poor old thing like herself have me so often. "The whole time," Evelyn told me later, "I was thinking about your cock".

My mother made no further reference to Evelyn, except through the irony in her voice whenever she mentioned my late returns home. I think she concluded that the old woman was my way of escaping from my domestic environment -- that is, from her. A strange way, but then I was strange, she implied.

It had long been my intention of moving out of home the moment I could afford it. My earlier plans had been to move in with one of my sisters, who lived in an inner-city dive. Now my plan was to move in with Evelyn. She had a spare room just the right size, barely used. I broached the subject with her as casually as I could, not wanting to plead (which felt entirely wrong) or be too demanding (which felt risky). She said of course I could move in, looking back at me from the kitchen sink with a sweet little smile. It was not her normal smile: this one was like I'd just offered to help her wash up (which I never did, by the way).

A few minutes later she came up to me and put her arms around my middle and laid her head on my chest. Her hands slid down to my ass, like a man does to a woman. "Let's go to bed," she said, and as I walked behind her I was once more aware again of how small she was: five feet if that, and so thin: about 85lbs, less than 40kg. I was double that.

This time on the bed she did something new, parting my hairy buttocks and putting her face right in there. She licked my ass, tonguing, with her whole tongue not just the tip, massaging me with her lips. Meanwhile her hand stroked my upper thigh and the whole area between my ass and balls. I was rock hard.

With an enormous sense of entitlement now I got up and sat on her face, straddling her but sinking right down so that my cheeks covered her nose and mouth. She kept tonguing and massaging and stroking, while I looked down at her heavy, concealing black dress, not thinking for a moment about the little body within it.