Hippy Hooray  by UK Snowy

The car was open but full of junk and it should not have been. The keys were
in the ignition and should not have been. The picturesque cottage was lovely
but all doors were open and should not have been. There were lights on,
coffee smells, windows open and absolutely no one around and there should
have been.
"Try the car, at least we know it's here and it's the right one," muttered a
disgruntled Paul, glancing again at the sheaf of papers in his hand.
"Should I?" I asked guardedly, it was my first day, but he was an old hand.
"Why not. We're taking it anyway," he answered. "When someone turns up."
I turned the key and the car started up easily and ticked over sweetly, but
somehow even with it's quiet sound, not quite disturbing the absolute peace
of the idyllic setting.  Set in deepest Dorset, it looked a bit hippyish in
that it was scruffy but cared for. Chickens roamed around Paul and I as we
searched the gardens surrounding the rose clad detached home. There was a
goat in a small paddock behind some budding apple trees and three or four
cats looked at us from their lounging on tops of walls or from the window
sills.
"It's taxed, so no plates required and we're starting to run late if someone
doesn't come," moaned Paul looking at his watch. "Fuel in it?"
I nodded positively. He looked surprised but stayed silent.
"Why don't you go on. This is my job anyway to get it back to the compound.
You can go on the chase car and find the other guys. I'll wait here and take
this one back. Someone must be around," I reasoned.
"Can't leave you here mate," said Paul. "Company policy. If no one arrives,
you could be here for ages and stranded. You can't take the car without a
signature and checklist."
"Hmm! That's true," I agreed. "What if we unload all that crap in there?"
"No way. It's their responsibility," argued Paul. "If we bust anything
likeŠ..or we might spoil our clothes. You don't know what's under that lot."
He nodded to the mass of newspapers, bits of pipe, tools, cans of oil,
gardening equipment and a hundred and one assorted other items in the
vehicle. I agreed and wandered into the garden after switching the motor
off. We were officially there to take the leased car away at the term end of
the agreement ­ nothing acrimonious like unpaid rentals or hire purchase. We
had documents, the owner or lessee knew we were coming this morning and we
had got there in good time. It was 9.30am.
I heard a child's cry or shout and hastened to the end of the garden, my
shoes and trouser bottoms soaking with the heavy dew in the long grass.
Eager to find someone responsible, I was oblivious to the wetness. I reached
a path and stopped dead in my tracks. Through an opening in the hedge, came
a goat. An angry looking goat, but luckily it seemed tethered to something
behind it. Then came two bodies. A young woman and a little girl maybe two
if that. The woman was virtually being dragged along by the goat and she
looked amazed to see me standing there smartly dressed in the rustic
surroundings. I attempted to speak but she got in first.
"Oh you've come for the car. Oh my God! I forgot and Larry has gone for the
day and left all the jobs to me. I'm ever so sorry," she lisped.
She was delightful in her lazy, haphazard, open approach complete with the
slightest speech impediment as I watched her somehow manoeuvre the tetchy
beast in with the other one. Paul - who I guessed was about sixty years old,
strolled part way to watch too and looked on with undisguised irritation. I
negotiated with her about the car, the checklist and the signatures required
and to Paul's satisfaction, he left me to go and pick up other drivers and
fill the rest of the day ferrying men or moving cars around the country as
that was our business. We moved an assortment of vehicles to and from
dealers, airports, docks, new car compounds, leasing companies, private
addresses and commercial companies.
As the woman collected some eggs, while she was near the shed, the toddler
who was dressed only in a tee-shirt that didn't reach her peachy little bum
which was bare, disappeared into the cottage and reappeared. She sat on the
door step, completely unabashed and showed me not only her Tweenies book but
also full frontal views of her tiny vaginal pouch, between slightly grubby
but wide open, rubber booted legs. The child was not speaking yet but made
little chuckling noises as she leafed the book.
"Coffee?" said the woman as she arrived at the door, not the slightest bit
worried about her daughter's blatant exhibitionism. "What's your name?"
"Kevin," I replied. "Yes please."
"Hi. I'm Pen, short for Penelope ­ not Penny. Larry hates that," she told me
cheerily.
"Mrs Cholmondley-Harvey Stewart?" I queried, reading carefully from the
documents.
"Yes. That's right. Larry or Laurence blah blah blah is my husband," she
giggled. "A mouthful eh? Come inside, come on Mags."
I willingly followed her, already enjoying the free jiggle of her pert tits
with very prominent nipples under her dark blue tee-shirt. Pen was not a
slight girl, more classic English pear shaped but not over ripe. Still young
and fertile, she had wide hips, a bit of spare flesh at the waist and was
maybe an inch over five feet tall. Mags followed us in as I studied Pen's
movements round the kitchen. The kid sat on a chair and busied herself,
humming some tune. Pen wore a ragged pair of dungarees, turned down at the
waist and tied in a knot. The left side was torn about six inches from the
hip downwards and afforded me sight of bare hip, pale and soft looking. No
sign of big knickers I mused as she brought the gently steaming mug of fresh
filter coffee to me at the huge refectory table that dominated the large
room. Mags was given a biscuit as I was, plus a glass of orange juice.
"It's funny how we Brits shorten all our names isn't it?" I ventured as
conversation, continuing.," Kev I get called, Pen, Mags - Margaret I
suppose? Larry,"
"Yes isn't it. What about Cholmondley-Harvey Stewart then," she chuckled,
pronouncing the first name as Chumley, which I knew was the norm in the
gentry.
"Hmm! Mouthful and a half," I chuckled, thinking how nice mouthfuls her tits
would be. "Bit posh."
"Yes he is, but he dropped out of the family business of brewing a couple of
years ago. They are all still great friends and quite close and he hasn't
been cut off or anything like that. They are loaded, but we like the
country, free style, self sufficiency," she lisped, sipping her coffee in
little sharp sups. "Well not really self sufficient. I still use Sainsburys
lots. Just turn this oven down and then we can sort the car out ­ after we
finish coffee of course."
Pen adjusted the Aga cooker and squatted to inspect the pot of food inside.
I looked at the few inches of her bare back and noticed that there didn't
seem to be any sign of thong or panties where the dungarees had stretched
down over her fleshy buttocks. We chatted about the weather, the new lease
car - a Mondeo which Larry had gone out in, the three year old and perfectly
reliable vehicle outside, the rental on the cottage, what she did with
herself and I warmed easily to her as she did me I felt. Being thirty, she
could relate to me. I guessed she would be mid to late twenties at the most.
Her nipples stayed erect all through and captivated my eyes as they moved so
freely with her every movement. She was as usual into conservation, anti
hunt, sculpture, jam making, goats milk products and writing articles for
some women's magazine. A clever young woman, but every time she mentioned
Larry, her voice seemed to tremble and her eyes went sort of misty and
occasionally she looked away for only seconds before resuming her
conversation. I sensed a problem.
I told her about my sport, my painting, my brewing home made wines and my
love of travelling and she seemed genuinely interested. Little Mags was an
absolute angel and pottered about bare bummed around us or at the table.
"Right the car. Let's do it,' Pen said firmly, gathering the mugs and
putting them into a sink.
We went outside into the bright sunshine and she opened the car doors. Mags
stayed indoors.
"I have a problem Pen," I told her. "I'm not allowed to help you. It's
company policy on the grounds that if I move something and it breaks we are
liable or could be. Sorry and all that butŠ.."
I gestured with my hands and grimaced apologetically.
"That's OK Kev. It's all rubbish anyway really," Pen responded heaving the
child's seat off the back seat.
She dived in and out of the vehicle and I watched helplessly but keenly as
she struggled with armfuls of newspapers, empty drink cans and bottles,
tools, old blankets ­ all sorts. My watching was exciting though. Her lovely
comfy sort of young body was extremely active as she knelt, squatted, bent
and stretched, to unload the stuff. I peered carefully at her rump and
decided she was naked under her dungarees. There was absolutely no sign of
visible panty line, the stretched edges of briefs, or a thong, even high
above her bum crack where the tiny triangle of thong would plunge into what
I reckoned would be a musky and sensuous trail to her cunt.
My mind sizzled with lust realising I hadn't had a good shag since my ex -
Sandra and I broke up some months back. The contrast between her and Pen was
staggering. Sandra who was called Sandra, not Sandi ­ oh no, was prissy,
house proud and on a permanent cleanliness operation. Hairs in the bath or
basins, skid marks in the toilet, bread crumbs on the worktops, toast
residue in the butter - all the usual stuff of living together sent her
ballistic, but her voluptuous meaty body, huge nipples and a snatch so tight
it was like shagging a virgin every time I penetrated the smooth shaven
bulge kept me sane and willing to go along with her personal foibles.
Sandra thought her period was something only she endured and that was with
great stress, pain and the foulest temper imaginable. Her arsehole was
totally out of bounds at all times and the slightest touch if my finger
strayed from her peachy pussy was treated as if I was trying to steal the
crown jewels. She shagged like a rabbit though, any time of day or night and
in the most unusual circumstances, which made a lie out of her otherwise
fussy outlook.

We parted amicably, her job offered her a chance to travel the world for two
years and I wouldn't hold her back. I had no intention of marrying her, nor
she me and she moved out of my flat as smoothly as she had moved in.
Pen opened the boot of the car and I gasped at it's contents. Besides the
conglomeration of more tools, blankets, cans of oil and garden implements, a
huge waste incinerator lay across the other stuff. I watched as she removed
some of the stuff then she struggled with the tin cylinder. I could not
stand by and watch this Hippy being attempt to move it, so I stepped forward
and grabbed the other end. Our heads met under the raised boot lid as we
leaned in. Maybe a foot apart, our eyes locked, her face glowing with sweat,
her deep brown eyes smouldered and she licked her sweet lips. Seconds passed
as we just looked deeply into each other, sensing each others needs and
desires, then I turned away and made to lift the thing.
She did the same and we heaved it out. It was empty, therefore not heavy as
such, just awkward. We placed it on the ground, glanced knowingly at each
other and then Pen turned and bent back into the car to extract a bundle of
six feet long garden canes which lay from the rear of the boot , through the
body of the vehicle and into the passenger foot well.
As she heaved at the bundle, her old dungarees - which had been through some
remarkable stresses long before today, became sheer and tight over her hips
and without a sound, the last remnants of thread at her waist gave up
protecting her modesty. As she straightened up somewhat triumphantly with
the bundle of canes, her trousers slid to the ground.
It took her some time to realise what had happened and at the same time I
was moving forward to take the bundle from her. My arms slid under the canes
as Pen's face registered her horror, but not before I had glimpsed her
robust thighs and legs and the thick mat of pubic hair sprouting at the base
of her rotund belly. She started to whimper, but by now my male instinct had
taken over. My shag opportunity instinct actually. Instead of grasping the
canes, my hands slid to her sides and through her tee-shirt I held her
fleshy sides just below Pen's sticky armpits. I pulled her towards me as she
held the bundle. My face lowered slowly as she responded, offering her lips.
We kissed tenderly, the heat between us in both temperature and passion
continually rising, tongues searching, teeth clashing, lips bruising until I
took the bundle of garden canes from her. Our lips parted as I lowered the
canes to the floor. Pen just stood there and I could see she was trembling
as I remained squatting, my face level with her crotch. I didn't check with
her.
I buried my face into the heavenly softness of her thighs and smelt the
musky aroma of Pen's pussy. My face pressed into her belly as my tongue
sought out her slit. As she opened her legs slightly, I felt a hand pressing
on my head and then two as suddenly my tongue found her labia. I heard her
gasp as my mouth roamed up and down her gash, sensing the wetness and
snorting in her hard working odours.
"Quick Kev, in here,' she gasped, pulling my hair and moving away.
I stumbled up and followed Pen into the shed after she stepped out of the
creased mass of her trousers, leaving them on the earth. Her buttocks
undulated deliciously as she entered the gloom of the workshop. She turned
and leaned against the bench and we locked into each others arms, kissing
and whimpering. Our hands searched each other and she opened my trousers. I
heaved her tee-shirt over her head and revelled in the sight and feel of
pale almost pure white breasts that showed no signs of sag. Bright pink
teats pointed up at me begging to be sucked but I had no chance. She had my
erection out in no time and I wriggled my arse to let my trousers drop
groundwards.
"Turn round Pen and bend over," I told her bluntly.
Willingly she did so and bent with her legs wide apart. I shuffled in
between them and aimed my dick at her cunt. My knob slid over her moistness
a couple of times until she filtered her hand beneath and supported my knob
until it hit the target. Instinctively I thrust and my cock rammed into her
fanny.
  Pen cried out as I grunted with satisfaction. I soaked for a few seconds,
whilst adjusting my stance and then I started to fuck her. Relentlessly I
built up speed as she allowed me more penetration by arching her back and
flattening her upper body on the work top. I could see her tits were being
forced down into an oily rag and some spanners, but Pen made no objections.
Her butt quivered with each thrust and I dared to part her cheeks, getting
no rebuttals. Her crack was hairy, with strays out on her buttocks and I
loved it.
  One of the assumptions I had made when observing her earlier was that she
would be hairy. Her hair line, her brows and her arm hair suggested the rest
of her and especially her crotch would be and I was not wrong. Pen's crack
was becoming increasingly slippery and her pubic hair was soon matted on her
flesh as I shafted her hard. She gasped and grunted and urged me on with
words of encouragement, levering her butt back at me in expectancy of each
powerful thrust. The work bench creaked and tools rattled and a can of WD40
fell noisily onto the concrete floor but we ignored it.
  I felt under her torso and my hands roamed her soft pliable belly, pulling
her onto me. My balls slapped as I gained complete insertion. She was not
tight, certainly not as tight as Sandra, but she wasn't capacious. Just
perfect in other words as I enjoyed varying angles and depths getting
approval from Pen with each experiment.
  Soon my cum was curdling and with a dozen or so strokes, it bubbled forth,
deep into her willing twat. With strangled cries I came and came - seemingly
spending gallons of the stuff into this unknown but extremely willing woman.
Stars circled in my eyes and I felt light headed, but that might have been
the paraffin or petrol fumes that were evident in the workshop from the
moment we entered. The basic nature of the very urgent and gratifying sex in
such rough unforgiving surroundings had excited both of us.
  It had been Pen's idea that it should be in a place where no doubt her
husband the very honourable Laurence Cholmondley-Harvey Stewart spent a lot
of his time and her initiative had proved extremely sexy.
  She wanted to straighten up and relieve her titties from the torture of
the tools below. My softening cock slid soggily from her cunt and I stepped
back.  She stood and turned with a cheeky smile. Her arms came out and we
embraced, my wet dick slopping against her belly as we kissed deeply.
  Parting mutually, she led me outside and I didn't attempt to cover my part
nakedness as much as she didn't. We must have looked odd emerging from the
tumbledown building into the bright morning sun. Her naked apart from some
slip on clog type of footwear. Me  still in my shirt and tie which were
somewhat ruffled and smeared with unknown substances and my shoes had picked
up some straw, but she led me into the kitchen where little Mags greeted us
with a smile.
  "She can't tell on us Kev. Don't worry. And she didn't see anything
anyway," chuckled Pen.
"Yes Pen it's OK I just want to thank you. I mean that was really cool and
so unexpected, thanks," I muttered.
"No problem. It seems we both needed that. I liked it. You are good. Do you
want to washŠer?Š" she hinted with a glance at me crotch.
"Think it might be wise. Got work to do you know," I answered
apologetically, not wanting to remove her juices from my prick.
"There's a toilet and basin through there, or a bathroom upstairs. Please
yourself," she told me brightly.
  With that, Pen turned, grabbed a wet cloth from the sink and swiped it
through her crotch several times. Amazed at her simple and open approach, I
stayed for seconds as she carefully and deliberately cocked her legs up and
sluiced her cunt and thighs until I left her to her basic ablutions and went
to the small room in the hallway. When I returned to the kitchen, she had
put on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and offered me my trousers, retrieved
from the shed. I put them on.
  She was still topless as she offered coffee with gestures and I returned
them positively. The coffee was poured and we sat at ease on two big old
armchairs.
"Sorry I should have used a condom Pen," I offered. "In fact  - not sure I
have any in my jacket to be honest. Didn't quite expect a treat such as you
in my working day."
"Don't worry Kev. We're lucky. You'll never believe it but my period has
literally just started. That fuck must have brought it on," she giggled
lightly.
"Wow! Cool," I muttered stupidly.
"Gosh! I did enjoy that. It's a biŠŠ.." her voice tailed off.
"It's a what?" I queried sensing her pause meant something problematic.
"Well it's Larry. He hasn't fucked me for two or three months now. He is
convinced he has testicular cancer and his mind is unbalanced about us, like
our relationship Šyou know like he is uselessŠ" she choked but prevented
herself from sobbing.
"Oh my God Pen. I am so sorry," I uttered, getting up and kneeling at her
feet.
"It's OK Kev. We'll get by. In fact he has gone to see a specialist in
Southampton today without telling me, but I found the appointment card for
him and secretly rang the clinic to ask who the doctor was and they
confirmed his medical specialities. Larry would kill me if found out I had
checked up on him, but I had to Kev," said Pen.
"Of course you did dear Pen," I fawned. "You must support him too and the
family."
"We all will if it's confirmed," she replied. "But I did really need that
sex just now."
  Her sudden brighter comment said with a little smile I think meant we had
to change the subject and that pleased me. I didn't want to get drawn into
counselling, but I did want to suck those delectable breasts that jiggled
enticingly inches from my face.
"Yes I enjoyed it too. You are lovely," I murmured, stroking her knee.
  Mags called out and Pen got up to see to her daughter and I watched
happily from the floor, caught up in the domesticity. She moved easily round
the kitchen getting the child some water to mix paint with. Mags settled
back to amusing herself with big sheets of paper that Pen found under a
staircase. I looked at my watch and realised how much time had passed. I
wasn't on a time schedule but the job had to be done. But I could always
claim problems with the car resulting in the delay in returning to base.
  Pen returned to me and stood over me, smiling down as she put her hand
through my curly hair. I gazed up at the unusual view of her breasts
hovering above me. They looked twice as big from the angle I was seeing
them.
"We did sex so well Larry and I," she said softly, almost wistfully. "I love
it, in fact I have to have it - every day and as many times in the day and
so doesŠdid he," she faltered. "We were the proverbial rabbits," Pen added
gaily.
  I chuckled at her lack of candour and grasped her legs, stroking up and
down her thighs. My hands slid up to her buttocks and I clasped the warm
mounds through her tracksuit, finding no evidence of underwear. There was no
negative reaction to my roaming fingers.
"No knickers again, you naughty girl. Makes it easy to be a bunny though I
expect," I smiled up at her.
  She chuckled in response and with a gentle tug I pulled her forward and
she stepped over my outstretched legs as I leaned against the chair. I
reached upwards, my long arms compared to her small stature making it easy
for me to feel her tits. Pen tilted her head back and gasped as my fingers
roamed over those perfect firm globes, gently pinching her nipples. I pulled
her closer and as I continued to play with her breasts I thrust my face into
her crotch. The thin cotton of her tracksuit betrayed the density of her
pubic mat to my face.
"I'm not on the pill you know," she told me.
"We both took the risk then," I answered, surfacing from the pit of her
belly.
"I've only conceived once in all the free shagging Larry and I have done.
It's incredible," Pen added.
"Little Mags?"
She nodded and glanced over at the happy child, immersed in her painting.
"I might have sparked something though," I chuckled. "Except you are on now
so there's no danger."
"You fertile then Kev?" she asked.
"Don't know. All the shagging I have done has been safe really. My ex was on
the pill and I use condoms otherwise," I told Pen truthfully, then I dove
into her crotch again, only to surface once more. "  I do like your bush.
It's so thick I can almost feel it tickling my nose through this."
"Hmm! Larry likes it too. Do you want to tickle your nose properly?" she
asked softly.
"ButŠ.."
  As I started to query the ethics of muff diving a menstruating stranger,
only for her own reasons ­ I have never personally worried about making love
to a bleeding pussy orally or otherwise, Pen slid her tracksuit lower and
presented me with my first real close-up of her pubes. Light brown like her
hair, it bloomed outwards, straggly long hairs spreading over her belly and
thighs where they were totally untrimmed. Pen wasn't exceptionally hirsute
like some poor girls who endure the pelt of a brown bear round their
privates, she was just hairy and I loved it.
  I tickled my nose as she so charmingly put it as the young mother
gradually shuffled forward and widened her legs until she stopped me and
thrust down her tracksuit in one clean movement, to step out of it. She
moved round me and sat on the chair and I swivelled to kneel where
previously I had knelt at her feet when she revealed her husband's
anxieties.
  Pen swung her legs wide over the arms of the chair like a porno poser.
"Do you want to?" she queried. "It's OK if you don't."
I looked in awe at the entrance to her vagina, peeping out from the dense
surround of curly hair. Moist dark hued cunt lips, neat but long in length,
not in projection curled together with a slight glistening gap at the very
bottom until they rejoined to make a crease all the way to the deeply
puckered knot of her anus. No sign of a tampon string marred the perfection
I gazed on and I wonder if she had planned more sex when she had washed
herself earlier. My answer to her - wasn't quite immediate due to the time I
took in viewing such sexual beauty, but I gave her my reply by dipping my
head between her hotly radiating thighs and slurping into her gash with one
swift movement. Pen cried out and Mags called out a questioning ŒMummy' but
Pen ignored the child.
  My tongue coursed upwards to uncover the shiny heart shaped button of her
clitoris. I felt her tremble as I concentrated on it and her hands pushed my
head onto the nerve centre, wanting me to pressurise it. I needed no hints
but welcomed her eagerness.
"It's not heavy. It never is, I'm lucky that way," Pen murmured, referring
to her period.
"It's fine. I don't mind," I mumbled, enjoying the flood of juices she was
excreting.
There was a tangyness to the flavour and her juice was stickier than normal
­ well normal as I know them to be, not having a clue to Pen's vaginal
normality's, but I was happy. I loosened my zip to ease the pressure on my
dick which was growing swiftly and trapped horizontally against my belly
amongst the creases of my trousers. Her clitty bobbed about under my tongue
as I nurtured it, finding that Pen soon placed her hands either side of her
gash and pulled it wide open.
  I drank in her juices, tonguing into the wide orifice she presented me
with, licking every inch of her labia. Her piss hole was clearly visible and
I tickled that with my tongue tip. Pen groaned and gurgled with pleasure
until she stirred. I looked up and she smiled. She wriggled in the chair and
stood up.
"Sit in here Kev," she told me.
I did as told and thrust my trousers down to my knees. Pen cooed when she
saw the seven inches of my gleaming erection. I'm not big in that
department, only average I suppose, but I know how to use it.
"It's bigger than Larry's. I felt it was ­ out in the shed. It's lovely. I'm
going to fuck you now."
  She lowered onto my lap, her knees easily fitting either side of me in the
big old chair. I held my dick upright as she squatted lower until she
grasped in and aimed it. Like a mother hen with a clutch of precious eggs
she settled down slowly, enveloping my cock in her very hot wet hole. I
hugged Pen to me and we embraced like two lovers who had fucked many times.
We were so at one with each other yet incredibly we had only met about an
hour ago. It was a sort of comforting cuddle yet we both anticipated the
frantic fuck we would be soon enjoying. Only for a moment I wondered on the
sensibility of fucking her in front of her daughter, but she had made that
decision ­ probably Mags had seen her mother and father fucking many times,
so she probably thought it was part of the normal days activities. The only
other doubt that flashed across my ninety nine percent sex occupied mind was
Larry. It wasn't the adulterous nature of our sex, it was being found out
that bothered me. Pen wouldn't tell, Mags couldn't and he was seventy miles
away. He slid out of my mind as easily as he intruded. His wife was a real
goer.
  I had known at least two women in previous liaisons who were hotter than
normal when menstruating, although one of them, an Indian girl, had
particularly heavy periods and always insisted ­ without any objections from
me, that I shagged her arsehole. Pen certainly was hot for it and she
started to rise and fall on my pole, taking it full length with a big sigh
and tensing her inner muscles to grip it in the few seconds before she rose,
to plunge back down again.
  Suckling her tits at last, I dwelt on them, plucking the nipples with my
lips, lapping the whole area and revelling in their obvious sensitivity ­
making her shudder with delight. They weren't big hangers, which are my
favourite. I am a quantity man rather than a quality man where mammaries are
concerned, but Pen's deliciously sweet perfect globes quivered with each
lick of my tongue and then settled back to their perky pose ready for the
next oral assault. I pondered if she had breast fed Mags as I sucked.
  The chair groaned with the action contained in it's brocaded chenille and
I was glad it wasn't mounted on castors otherwise we would be doing a full
tour of the roomy kitchen. Pen was now pounding down on me with a vigour
that confirmed her earlier declaration of sexual desire. Her buttocks
smashed down on my thighs, slapping together our cuckolding bodies. I
couldn't concentrate on her breasts, such was her activity, but I clutched
her buttocks and kneaded them as she bounced with abandon.
  I could easily reach her crack and inserted my fingers into it, finding
her bum. I fingered it and she grinned down at me, nodding encouragement,
but not altering her pace. It became soft and open as I slid some of her
juices onto it and I stuck my finger tip into it.
"Aaaagrrhhghhh!" Pen gasped, quickening her fucking.
  The angle prevented me from inserting much of my digit, but I managed to
the first knuckle realising she liked anal play. I popped it in and out in
time to her shag motions and within seconds she started to wail. Her body
arched, belly forward, head back as Pen ground her pubis onto mine. I
guessed she was stimulating her clitoris at the same time as filling her
cunt ­ it was certainly doing something to her as the signs of her cumming
intensified.
  Her wailing grew into a continuous moan, her head thrashed, flinging her
hair across her face and getting matted with her sweat. Suddenly she gave
one tremendous thrust down on my dick and stopped, throwing her torso
forward and gripping me to her breast. It was suffocating ­ almost, but I
had her tit stuck in my mouth and I wasn't complaining. She wasn't either as
she gasped.
"Once more in my arse Kev, hard."
I rammed my finger into her anus and she shuddered and gripped my cock with
the most intense vice like grip high in her vagina. The grip pulsed as shock
waves flowed through her body. It was the most incredible climax I had known
in a woman.
  Pen collapsed on me, her body heaving with exhaustion, her wet face buried
on my shoulder, her cunt pumping on my dick, but I hadn't cum. I tensed my
erection several times and she slowly rose from my shoulder and looked down
at me quizically.
"Oh my God, you're still hard. Fuck me again Kev. Cum in me please," Pen
whispered.
"Lay in the chair Pen. You're knackered," I grinned.
She nodded and lifted her panting body off me. As soon as my prick exited
her sloppy snatch she swivelled to see it's solid projection and giggled.
"Oh yes. I want it hard and fast. Do whatever you want Kev. Anything," she
told me with a gleeful expression.
I moved her below me and in one movement, she raised her legs, almost
putting her ankles round her neck, like a contortionist. This tilted her
butt forward. Her cheeks were tight, her gash was hanging open and her
bumhole pouted. In many cases I would have stopped to admire, play and eat
but I wanted and Pen wanted my cum. I placed my hands on the chair and
lowered my torso down. She grasped my greasy penis and stuck it into her
sloppy pot and I lowered into her. My arms tensed, supporting my body weight
as I started to shunt. Her hands caressed my arms and body and filtered down
to her crotch, pulling her labia wide, feeling my dick pounding into her,
frigging her clit. Little grunts and smiles urged me on, even harder,
faster.
  The time between cumming in the shed and now was relatively short, but I
had repeated performances in lesser times with the right stimulation and
this was certainly right. I shagged Pen mercilessly, but my arms were
starting to ache as I used them as quadrant levers, swinging my torso
forward and back between them. Then I noticed Pen's hand reach lower than
her cunt. She smiled cheekily at me when I saw that she was fingering her
arsehole. I did need a change of position and wondered.
 I pulled out of her and pulled her towards me slightly, letting her butt
overhang the edge of the chair seat. Her head and shoulders slid flat into
the body of the capacious chair and she kept her legs doubled back. I sank
down onto her for a moment, my weight on her as I fumbled with my cock. I
plunged it back into her cunt and fucked steadily, but the angle was wrong
and I needed to adjust. I pulled out again and she took the initiative.
  Pen grabbed my swaying erection and I thrust. In her hands literally, at
her whim. My knob budged against a solid mass and then again but this time
it gave way slightly and I felt it pop inside her. She whispered to me and I
eased and stopped until she pulled my shaft in again, her hands round her
buttocks accessing her crotch. It felt tight and I guessed she had inserted
me into her bum. I almost whooped with joy at the expectation. This car job
was turning into one hell of an opportunity.
"Slowly but all the way, take your time Kev," she murmured, raising her
eyebrows, biting her lips and grinning naughtily.
"Oh Pen," I gasped as I sunk slowly into her fundament.
I adopted a retreat, run and careful approach to the new situation, but soon
I was plunging full length into her bottom. Her agility was something else.
Usually ­ in fact all of the anal fucks I have enjoyed have been doggy style
or occasionally with the girl sitting on me, often her back to me. This was
unusual and amazingly tight and pressurised my knob so much my cum started
to bubble.
 Pen cleverly spotted the signs and urged me on. I went as fast as if I was
in her much more used orifice, but she never flickered any discomfort. Her
face was totally in league with mine in the satisfaction and sensations she
and I were experiencing. My climax happened and I grunted with exertion as I
rumbled on her welcoming body, supporting much of my weight on my elbows to
save her too much mattress duty. Her fingers gripped into my back but she
didn't scratch as she welcomed my seed deep in her rectum.
  Spent ­ minutes later, we lay quiet, hot, wet and panting as she cooed and
stroked my head and body. Mags called out and Pen peered over my shoulder to
respond but the child seemed happy, it was probably a small moment of
contact she needed.
  My dick slopped out and hung towards the carpet, dripping . I sensed the
colder air of room temperature but there was no discomfort. However I
thought of the young woman beneath me and raised myself off her. With a
grunt, she lowered her legs and grimaced slightly. I shuffled into the chair
besides her, the width of the seat just wide enough to accommodate us
squashed happily together. We toyed and smooched for a while until a little
wet fart escaped her bum and she chuckled and rose.
  I watched her walk swiftly and lightly out of the kitchen and rested for a
while, contemplating the day so far. It was awesome and I hadn't done any
work yet. Pen returned and threw on her shirt and pulled up her tracksuit. I
took the hint and went and washed my dick., It was clean although very wet.
Her period had left no residue on my pubes and her bottom had deposited
nothing on it either. If there had been a trace of blood on my dick it would
be well inside her anus now.
  Returning to the kitchen I had to make a decision.
"I've still got work to do Pen," I told her, stroking her buttocks as she
bent over her child.
"Yes I know and so have I. I am a housewife you know," she said happily.
We kissed tenderly, not passionately and went outside. The sun was hotter
now, it was mid morning. Mags followed us out and sat on the steps again,
once more exposing her tiny crotch to me. Pen never chastised her or made
her move as I did a cursory check  of the car - it's condition and
equipment, against the list on the documents.
  If there had been a bad mark, it had to be recorded, but there wasn't. The
car had been well used as a family transport. What Larry did I never found
out. I drove the Vectra back to base and went on another mission with two
other guys. I never followed Pen up. It would be dangerous and upsetting
maybe.
After all, she was a Hippy. I was happy.
FIN


username: UKSnowy
password: lord1810
put: Home Sweet Home
END HEADERS

Home Sweet Home  by UK Snowy

  Ivy opened the door of the scruffy terrace house.
"Oh not again," she moaned, looking at the load on Nick's shoulders.
"What do you mean again?" he asked, puffing slightly and noticing her
nipples bulging low slung on very heavy hanging tits through her grey
tee-shirt.
"It's the same every night," she replied, stepping aside.
Nick looked at her and puzzled.
"What do you want me to do then? He's fucking heavy," he told her.
"Oh sorry is it the first time you've done this? There are so many," she
whined nasally, tossing the glowing cigarette past Nick into the street
beyond. "Can you put him there."
  She pointed to a room off the long hallway, which was low lit and
decorated in cream painted wood chip wallpaper. Nick struggled to manoeuvre
the man he presumed to be her husband into the room suggested. It was not
easy as his load was at least 250 pounds especially as Ivy stood to one
side, not making the passage easy.
  Nick eased the big man onto a sofa and watched him settle into a comatose
sleep accompanied with heavy snoring. Ivy tutted and threw her eyes to the
ceiling in a tired gesture. The were extremely sensual eyes Nick noted.
Heavy lidded, smouldering dark brown even though they looked care worn and
tired. Her lips were full and although carrying spare swathes of flesh round
her neck, she had a graceful demeanour.
"You new at the Dog and Duck then?" she asked as she leaned round and shut
the door behind the panting forty year old painter and decorator.
"Yes," he answered. "Just met Ted tonight. Mutual friend knew him and we got
drinking."
"So what's new?" she commented, leaning against the wall of the hallway,
folding her arms under her heavy bosoms and hoisting them up. "Thanks
anyway. Fancy a cup of tea?"
  Nick looked at his watch and grimaced and then belched loudly.
"Sorry missus. Had a few myself, yeah OK why not."
  She shook her head in exasperation and moved deeper into the house. Nick
followed Ivy through to a back living room and she offered him a seat. As he
followed, he found that while guessing she was in her early fifties - he
couldn't resist eyeing up her homely body which wobbled from her knees
upwards. She seemed to be wearing only a huge tee-shirt - he guessed one of
her husbands XXL size, as he couldn't see any trace of panty elastic over
her buttocks. The shirt had ridden up slightly over her protruding butt and
was relatively tight round it. Below the tee-shirt were her pale legs.
  He ignored her offer of a seat and also a cigarette and requested the
whereabouts of the toilet and she showed him through the kitchen to a
downstairs bathroom. Ivy got on with making some tea. While pissing hard,
Nick glanced at his watch seeing it was 10.45 -  early for him, but he had
no one to go home to these days. His ex girlfriend Tracey had walked out on
him eight weeks ago, leaving the house he owned and that she had used as her
pad although she lived with her parents normally. Marriage was the word that
flung Nick and Tracey apart. She wanted, he didn't and after two relatively
happy years full of versatile shagging they parted, fairly acrimoniously.
  Nick's mind wandered and he found he had sprayed on the floor mat. He
grunted and slid his shoe over the spots of piss until his flow stopped and
he left the bathroom. Ivy, waiting for the kettle to boil - watched him pass
her and go into the back room.
"These your kids then missus?'" he called out, peering at the cluster of
cluttered photographs above the fireplace.
"It's Ivy, not missus," she told him firmly, joining him in the back room.
"You?"
"Oh er NickŠNick that's right," he mumbled.
  "That's our Brenda and her kids. That's our Freddy and his. That's our
Noreen and her old man, they don't have kids and that's our Elspeth and her
lot," Ivy said proudly, pointing at each collection.
"Blimey some brood," Nick said pleasantly. "You're a granny several times
er!Š."
"Of course - in fact soon to be a great gran when little Eileen has hers.
She's Brenda's eldest, that's her," said Ivy pointing at a chubby black
haired girl who was in school uniform. "That's an old photo of course. She's
fifteen now."
"FifŠ?" spluttered Nick.
  He paused when he saw Ivy's gentle smile as she gazed fondly at the
snapshot and realised that the soon to be great grandma had no qualms about
her brood being under age. The kettle whistled into life and she turned away
and made the tea. Nick browsed round the other photographs as she busied in
the kitchen until she re-entered.
"Let it brew a while. Here, sit down here," she said pleasantly, indicating
a massive fake leather sofa.
  She bent to shove some newspapers and TV listings magazines across a low,
teak, coffee mug stained table and Nick tried to edge past her. He clumsily
tripped on a curled up edge of a moth eaten rug and stumbled, losing his
balance. In an attempt to right himself, he grabbed at the nearest thing
which was Ivy's torso. She couldn't support him and they collapsed in an
untidy heap on the sofa. Her right leg was caught under his left leg, his
left arm was trapped under her not inconsiderable bulk and their shoulders
were uncommonly close.
  Ivy turned her face and glared at him with disgust and he smelt the
mixture of tobacco and onions on her breath. He realised his cramped left
hand was feeling skin and not tee-shirt and without thinking he wiggled his
fingers. They slid into a warm, wet,  hairy mush and she jolted with
surprise but didn't attempt to move away from him.
  "Is that what I think it is Ivy?" he murmured, wiggling his fingers again.
"You naughty girl."
Nick's forefinger found a gash and without further ado he prodded into it.
"You seem to have made your mind up. Well what of it. A woman can get away
with not wearing pants in her own house can't she?" she challenged gently,
wriggling her butt on his gently probing digits. "Ooh that's nice."
"It is luv. Very nice," Nick agreed. "But can you move a bit. My hand is
cramping."
  She complied but Nick's fingers stayed lodged in her cunt as she
unravelled her legs. In the end he had to remove his hand, but only because
she had sat back on the sofa with her legs wide apart. His pussy stained
fingers snaked round her shoulders while he stroked the vastness of her
inner thighs with his right hand. Her knees were dimpled and soft, as he
roamed over them accompanied by Ivy's sighs. He sneaked his hand further up
and raised the hem of her shirt until it lay crumpled across her crotch.
  "A no knickers girl eh? Amazing what you find in a little back street
after closing time," he chuckled, peering at the stretch marked hang of her
belly which concealed her crotch.
"Not closing yet," she chuckled, nodding at the cheap cuckoo clock over the
fireplace.
"Well don't close your legs Ivy or you'll crush my tiny mitt and it won't be
able to tickle your pussy," Nick whispered as he inserted his hand between
her thighs.
"No danger of that," she replied, opening her legs even further. "You're a
dirty sod aren't you?"
  They both giggled as her skin made obscene noises as it chafed over the
sofa. Her giggles turned to gasps as he ventured his hand onto her pussy
pouch. He felt the fleshy mound amongst the thick bush of her pubes, finding
her slit and it's slick wetness opening easily. Expertly his finger traced
upwards parting the thick flaps of her labia until he unearthed her clitty
hood. Ivy moaned as he ringed it gently, not sliding it back yet, her head
back on the sofa, her mouth gaping, eyes closed, chest heaving. Nick gasped
in turn when he realised what a large bleb of nervous membrane his fingers
encircled. Ivy lazily opened her eyes at his expulsion of air.
  "I think I'm going to enjoy this. He hasn't done this in months" she
chuckled with a nod towards the wall between them and the slumbering Ted. "
What I can't work out is how and why it should happen tonight. I mean you
coming in and me so horny I could fuck anyone who walked through that door."
"I wouldn't worry about it Ivy. Just enjoy as you sayŠ.Oh my God!"
spluttered Nick.
Her body stiffened and she uttered a little squeak as he slid her clitty
hood back and the core of her sex system popped out. As she started to
quiver with unbridled excitement while Nick's fingers explored the enormous
bulb he felt, he peered into her crotch.
"It's fucking huge Ivy. Fucking hell!"
"It's alright isn't it?" she asked weakly. "Doesn't put you off?"
Nick didn't reply. He slid off the sofa and roughly pushed her legs up and
far apart. The loose cellulitic flesh round her thighs wobbled as she hung
onto them allowing him easy access between. The powerful scent of her cunt
wafted at him as he placed his hands either side of her forested gash and
pulled it open. His thumbs spread her clit mound and again her bud popped
out.
ŒWow! It's incredible. It's fucking fantastic," he enthused, shuffling
forward.
  Ivy possessed a clitoris of about an inch long and maybe nearly half an
inch thick. It looked like a miniature cock complete with a little knob on
the end. It surmounted a wide pink hole that was leaking juices profusely.
Some of the sliminess had congealed at the base of her slit and was white in
colour. He saw how her labia clung together again below her hole and formed
a seam down into the matted mire round her arsehole. This he couldn't see,
but he had plenty to occupy him.
 Nick dipped his head into the unknown and closed his lips round her cherry.
Ivy sighed, her body trembling as he started to lap hungrily at the strong
tasting knob. His tongue roamed her snatch, smelling her sex, no doubt
produced over a fair portion of the evening, long before he turned up with
her drunken oaf of a husband. It was cheesy, pissy and tinged with other
flavours his palate could not define. But Nick was no connoisseur, just a
pussy fanatic. Quantity rather than quality was his remit and Ivy's vagina
was certainly big. He gorged on her sex meat while she thrashed above him.
  After a while, she tapped his nodding head and he looked up at her
imploring expression.
"Fuck me Nick. Now ­ hard, please," she moaned.
Instantly he knelt up and unstrapped his belt and unzipped his jeans.
"Oh my," she whimpered as his eight inch dick throbbed at her.
  He pushed his clothes to his knees and shuffled forward, then levered
himself up over her as Ivy sunk lower in the sofa, to more obscene sounds
from the protesting upholstery. Her crotch was cushioned on the edge by her
billowing buttocks and as Nick moved closer he told her to lift her shirt up
so he could see her tits. Not without some difficulty, she slung the shirt
high, tucking it under her chin letting her knockers spread flabbily over
her chest.
  Nick thrust with one fluid movement and inserted his dick into her
moistness as he revelled in the sight of her boobs slithering about as he
started to shag her. The milker mounds flattened at the top then bulged out
to slide into her sweaty armpits. They were - as he had guessed rightly ,
un-brassiered and topped by nipples which were a dark brown colour. The
teats were not set into the usual saucer of areolae. They were just half
inch high nubs of flesh sticking out from the veined whiteness that wobbled
so deliciously as Nick fucked.
  Ivy's face contorted with ecstasy as her head jolted with each urgent
thrust. She grabbed her flailing tits and squeezed them violently, her
stubby fingers digging into the mass of her big mammaries and manipulating
them to her obvious pleasure. On Nick powered enjoying the surprise of quite
a tight passage into her smelly twat, which surprised him considering her
childbirth record. Ivy gasped and squeaked with each ramming motion and her
eyes encouraged him.
  Suddenly Nick's feet pushed the rug away which slid across the laminated
floor and he slipped from her hungry minge and his knees thumped to the
floor. Ivy called out in surprise, thinking he had finished as he gathered
himself. His dick waggled in front of him as he stood up.
  "Get up on your knees Ivy. Š.that's it sideways,' he told her as she
immediately complied with his request - keen to continue.
  Ivy rested her hands on the arm of the sofa and placed her head on them.
Nick knelt one leg on the sofa, the other foot planted on the floor as she
settled into doggy position. Her rotund buttocks spotted with the odd red
pimple, looked like snowy mountains as he aimed his greasy cock at the hairy
bush between her wobbly thighs. His knob found the entrance to her soaking
mott and he banged hard, making Ivy raise her head, which soon settled back
to enjoy the resumed fuck motion. Her tits hung low and swung and slapped
against her arms and belly as Nick's ferocious assault on her pussy
continued.
  Used to the heavy handed rough approach from her life with Ted, the vigour
this relatively young man showed in keeping up the action for considerably
longer than her husband excited Ivy and she leaked her vaginal lubrication
by the gallon. It dribbled and splashed down onto the already stained sofa.
  Nick splayed her arse crack with his hands and gazed on the hairy spread
round the bulbous ring of her arsehole. He spread some of their collective
juices onto it and Ivy squeaked a small protest which he ignored. His cum
bubbled and started to pump up his shaft.
"I'm cumming IvyŠfuck oooohurghhhhhh!" he gasped as he spilled his jism high
in her snatch.
  She blasted her crotch back at him equalling the force of his final
ramming, her squeaks and moans echoing his cries. Nick fell on her - spent,
panting and aching in his limbs with the awkward position. Ivy collapsed
under his weight and they crumbled in an untidy heap on the tired old sofa
for a few minutes. His cock had squeezed out of her cunt and lay seeping on
the cold mock leather as her juices dribbled over his thigh which was
cushioning her hips.
  "Fucking hell Ivy you're some goer," he chuckled, finally as he extracted
himself from the tangled mess of limbs.
She turned over and lay statuesquely and giggled cheekily.
"Reach me those fags off the mantle piece Nick," she asked.
"The post coital smoke eh?" he said as he pulled up his pants and jeans.
"It's not often after a fuck these days," she added, nodding obliquely to
the room next door.
"Hmm! I can guess," he responded. "Pissed all the time?"
"Nah! Not all the time. He holds down a good job at the gas works, but the
nights - he's always pubbing and comes in rat arsed. It's no good for me. I
like my sex," she told Nick as she scrambled up and tidied her crumpled
tee-shirt.
  Her tits wobbled as her hands smoothed the shirt, then she suddenly
clamped her legs together.
"Shit! I'm leaking like a sieve," Ivy chuckled as she waddled to the kitchen
and continued to talk. "You've pumped loads into me. What shall we call the
baby?"
  "Fucking hell IvyŠ..!" gasped Nick stepping to the door. He saw her cheeky
grin as her hand swiped through her crotch with paper towels.
  "Bitch!" he exclaimed with a grin, realising she was winding him up.
She made a fresh pot of tea and they sat on chairs at the table and chatted
eating some chocolate biscuits.
"You've failed the test anyway. Babies or not," Ivy told him.
"What do you mean?" Nick protested, spluttering crumbs.
"You didn't make me cum."
"Oh I see, well I can always try again."
"Who says you will get another chance?"
"Do you want to cum Ivy?"
"What do you think?"
"I know you do and with a cherry like yours, it shouldn't be difficult ­ in
factŠ"
  He made a dive for her while falling to his knees and shoving up her
tee-shirt. She didn't complain as he pushed her legs apart to allow his face
to burrow into her crotch. On the hard upright chair, it wasn't easy for his
ingress even with her compliance, so she got him to pause. Nick stood up but
then interrupted Ivy's idea with his own. He lifted her shirt high and over
her head. Her huge knockers tumbled out and wobbled from side to side. He
grabbed then and smoothed his hands over the vast spread of them, finding
the already hard nipples, erecting even further as he played. Ivy grabbed
his crotch and thrust down his zipper, finding his hardening cock. She
pulled him in between her legs and took her bosoms and gathered them round
his rapidly lengthening penis.
  Nick got the message and stood as close as he could and worked his groin
up and down, tit fucking the amazing mature housewife. With each upward
stroke, Ivy dipped her head and licked his smeggy knob, unwashed from their
previous fuck.
"Shit! You're one sex machine Ivy," he chuckled. "Can't believe anyone
wouldn't fuck you every night."
"And twice or three times every day as it used to be when we got married. He
was the same then," she added wistfully. "I mean I always need fucking. Come
on make me cum."
  Ivy stood and pushed past him, flopping onto the much abused sofa again.
Totally naked, she bent her legs up and wide, holding her feet. Nick stood
and admired the marvellous vista of pure, unadulterated, ripe and welcoming
pussy and dived in - fingers first amongst the thick folds protecting her
cherry. Her clitty popped out of it's protective mask and he gorged on it
with relish.
  She moaned and grunted as it grew in his fervent sucking, each lick and
suck sending hundreds of pulses coursing through her body. Expertly, Nick
concentrated as much on the surrounds to the stout nerve bundle as it
itself. He sucked voraciously on her labia, his mouth almost full of her
flaps until they would stretch no further and he let them slither back to
form what looked like a bundle of greasy crusts round the mushy pie of her
twat.
  His fingers penetrated the tight hot crack below her hole and he fingered
her sticky sphincter. Ivy stiffened ­ after a while.
  "No not in there Nick. Please," she murmured.
He complied without question and focussed all of his efforts on her clit and
cunt. The juice oozed out of her, which he liked. By now it was such rich
and pure stuff, the initial slightly stale odours from her hole had
disappeared and he drank deeply, sluicing up the ready supply as much as he
had devoured several pints of Guinness that evening.
  Suddenly Ivy started to moan. She placed her hands either side of Nick's
sucking mouth and pulled her fanny flaps as far as they would stretch but in
an upwards direction. Her clitty stuck out even further and Nick swallowed
all of the tantalising bulb. Her fingers kneaded into her groin
rhythmically, knowing her own signals of sex. As his head dipped, he took up
her finger moves and within seconds, her whole body shook and trembled.
  A little squirt of her cum hit his face and he peered at the expanse of
her pussy membranes laid bare before him, pulsing, leaking and very sticky.
Her piss hole widened and he half expected a stream of urine to shower him,
but it didn't. The tiny glands either side of it gave up their juices as Ivy
moaned deep and low, finally subsiding into a shaking sighing wreck. She lay
still at last, her legs flopping down either side of him as Nick smoothed
his hands over her thighs, knees and down to her feet.
  Minutes passed until he wriggled up and rubbed his sore knees. She stirred
and opened her eyes lazily and grinned. It was rude grin, a naughty girl
grin and he grinned back and winked.
"OK Ivy?" he asked as he started to sort his clothes out. "Lucky he's a
heavy sleeper."
"He will be there till morning, about five to be precise and he'll go for a
pee then climb in next to me - making sure he wakes me up first, then go
back to sleep. Marvellous eh?" she groaned. "I can set the clock by him. Who
would be married. You married Nick?"
  Ivy rumbled up off the sofa and rubbed various parts of her aching rolling
body. Her sexual muscles were rusty and such exertion in one spell had taken
their toll on her well worn body. Nick watched as she threw her tee-shirt
back on and answered her.
"No I'm not. It's one of the reasons I'm in this neck of the woods. My girl
friend, my ex wanted a wedding, but I didn't, so she left me. I moved to
this area. More work and away from her patch.  I'm OK. Get by if you know
what I mean," he said chuckling.
"I'll bet you do, you randy sod," Ivy giggled. "Cup of tea?"
"Why not ­ yeah."
They chatted over a new pot, accompanied by chocolate biscuits and Nick
glanced at his watch. It was after midnight. Not a sound from the front room
comforted him. Ivy farted loudly and she put her hand over her mouth and
apologised. He shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned at the natural
occurrence.
"Bit of a problem there I'm afraid ­ that's why I didn't wantŠ." she told
him quietly but interrupted.
"Its OK Ivy. We're all human. No problem," he told her understandingly.
"It's justŠwell I likeŠOh I don't know. It's just that I do like it in there
you know," she confessed. "Do you?"
"Ah! I see. Never had one in there myself, but yes I've done it a few times.
Yes I like it too," Nick added.
"Well maybe next time if my medication worksŠ" Ivy's voice trailed off.
"Next time?" he queried.
"Well I thoughtŠyou knowŠ"
"Oh yeah. It was good. Fucking good," Nick responded. "If you're up for it I
am Ivy."
She grinned happily and nodded, her eyes twinkling.
"Can we do it....er! well you know. Maybe under different
circumstancesŠ..like not when he'sŠ," Nick murmured, nodding at the wall.
"Oh right. Yes sure. No problem. He works away days on end sometimes. You'll
find out when in the pub. He'll tell you all. He likes it Œcos he gets more
wages that way," she confided.
"The place needs decorating Ivy," Nick suggested. "That's my job."
"Oh I see what you mean. You can be here like officially during the day. I
make those decisions. Right we'll go for it. Ted thinks he holds the purse
strings but I do and I've got my own money too," she chuckled.
"When do you want me to start?" Nick asked, getting up.
"Right now yeah?" she laughed, pulling her tee-shirt up and opening her
legs. Her greasy pubes hung down, below the low fold of her belly.
Nick shook his head in amazement.
"I'm knackered Ivy and you need to think about colours, but there's no way I
am changing that colour scheme," Nick nodded at her crotch. "I like pink."


The end


  
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