Trudy cracked the curtains and stood staring down into the bedroom of their next door neighbours. The man had just come out of the shower and was balls naked! The peeking flushed Trudy in its wickedness but at the same time, amused her. He was older than her father, much older. His hair was gray, his body a pasty sun-starved white with sagging chest muscles and soft overweight arms. He had a pouch. No. She was being kind. He had a belly! It flared out below his chest like a grotesque thirtyor forty-pound weight and looked exactly as if he were pregnant.
Then she saw his soft, hanging penis. Trudy blinked and looked again, straining to believe what couldn't be. It was a monster! The old man was hung like a bull. Oh no. No! The sudden clutching, churning pain in her groin damn near doubled her up. Good God! But it was a lovely, huge hunt of meat.
Memories of Tom's massive, fiery prong forcing its way into her eager, ripe cavern yesterday and of the unholy, out-of-this-world ecstatic rapture caused her a weakness in the knees. "Ohhh," she moaned from the torturous sharp desire that emitted from her womb and cup-grabbed her belching, drooling, palpitating pussy.
She rubbed herself through her dress and felt the glittering incandescent glow of fuck-fever begin to swell and spread throughout her pelvic area. No. She jerked her hand away. She wasn't going to get herself worked up again. It was senseless. Where was no way she could gel satisfaction. All she would do would be to drive herself into an orgasm desire that couldn't be satisfied. She opened her eyes and looked down again for the old man. He was gone.
Damn! Damn! She wanted to fling off her clothes and masturbate herself into a fuck-frenzy. But it wouldn't do any good. After Hank's futile attempt last night and the sight of her neighbour's huge prick, she needed a cock in her now. A large cock, like that old man's or… Tom's! Yes, damn it! What was the matter with her? She had a long cocked brother who would screw her anytime and to hell with the incest bit. Hadn't Hank fucked her mother? Yeah, yeah. Trudy ran to the phone.
"Why, he's out somewhere, honey. It's Sunday," her mother said. "What's the matter?"
"Oh." Trudy tried to sound unconcerned. "It's nothing. I just had something to ask him."
"What?"
"It's nothing, mother. Really. Just forget about it. I've got to go now. See you," and she hung up in greater agitation. Now what could she do? Her stomach was literally tying up in knots and the cramps were awful.
Trudy bounced up the stairs again and peeked hopefully down into her neighbour's window. The old man was there, but was wearing Bermuda shorts. Oh shit! Trudy had to do something. She easied her hand once more to her ache. Ripples of sensuous goodness radiated from her efforts and shattered her willpower.
The hell with it! She took off her dress, off with her panties and jumped on the bed. Her legs were splayed and her urgent tiny hand was rubbing and mashing her aroused, torrid, craving cunt.
As her wee finger staccatoed in and out of her sloppy, charring hot hole, insatiable sparks of churning deliciousness engulfed her body in an elegant harvest of tantalizing lasciviousness. Each touch and rub of her erect, writhing clitoris launched lustful, provocative pangs of erogenous exception from her satin-smooth, cum-slick cavern. It was good, it was bliss, but oh dear God, she wanted to be fucked with a monstrous cock.
"Ohhh! Ohhh!" She mini-came twice, and her clitoris retreated from the jerking, wild orgasms. If only? If only? Then the damn doorbell broke in on her delicious fuck-fantasy and brought her back to the present.
Trudy used a towel to wipe her drooling honey pot and hands, then caught her breath before opening the door. "Yes?" She smiled at the older woman.
"Hello dear." She was in her late fifties or early sixties and had a sweet smile. "I'm Mrs. Lamb, your next door neighbour, and rm. looking for a favor."
"Next door?" Trudy stalled for time to allow her brain to clear of the fuck-fog she had just been in. "You mean over there?" She pointed toward the old man's house.
Mrs. Lamb nodded. "Yes, dear, and I started to make a cake for Albert, but I'm out of eggs and the stores are closed. Could I borrow two from you until tomorrow?"
"Well, sure." Trudy backed away from the door and allowed her in. "Come in. I'll get them."
"Oh, I don't know how to thank you," Mrs. Lamb gushed on the way to the kitchen. "Albert would be so disappointed without his cake. It's his birthday today. He's sixty-seven."
"How nice." Trudy smiled but her mind was racing. Sixty-seven. Was that too old for a man? And even if it wasn't, would his enormous wonderful cock still harden up? And even if it would, how could she get him over here to relieve her terrible ache? Trudy handed Mrs. Lamb the eggs, her mind still racing for a rush, an answer, anything to get the old man here. "Do you need anything else?" she asked, "Milk? Butter?"
"No, dear. Eggs is all, but you saved my day. I just don't know how to thank you" She started out of the house. "Albert will be so happy."
Trudy didn't know why she said anything so stupid, it just came out of her mouth. "Uh wait, Mrs. Lamb. There is something Mr. Lamb can do, if he knows how."
"Yes?" Mrs. Lamb looked quizzical.
"It's ah… It's the toilet." Trudy had heard her mother tell her father this same line many times. "It keeps running on me, and I don't know how to shut it off. So if he could look at it?"
"Of course" Mrs. Lamb smiled. "I'll send him right over." And she went out the door.
Oh lord in heavens! Trudy raced up the stairs to the bathroom. She removed the tank top, as she had seen her mother do, and stood staring at the inner workings. What does she do now? Trudy flushed the toilet and watched the float go down and the water turn itself off when the float rose to a certain level. She lifted the ball-float and the water again began to flow. Ho ho! Trudy bent the float arm upward until the water ran continuously and drained out of the overflow pipe. Then she dashed to her bedroom and watched the Lamb house.
Mr. Lamb came out of his house, still in his Bermuda shorts and carrying some tools in his hand. He looked terribly old, but he was coming over! Now what in the fuck should she do?
She had never deliberately tried to turn on a man in her life. She never had had to. The boys had always made the first move, and up until she married, she merely fended them off. So how did a woman entice a man into bed with her? Mr. Lamb was crossing the sidewalk between their two places.
What was it that turned the boys on? What turned Hank on? Or Chuck? Or Tom? Her body! Of course! She hurriedly stripped off her dress, shoes, anklets, and bra. But what should she wear? Mr. Lamb rang her doorbell.
Oh Lord! She couldn't greet the man naked, but she had to show him enough of her body to turn him on, so what? The doorbell rang again.
"Just a minute," she called and made up her mind. She had to have a man. Mr. Lamb would be her only chance until Hank got home from his golfing. She just couldn't wait that long. She opened her dresser drawer and removed the flimsiest, shortest, see-through nightie she had and slipped it over her glistening, eager, radiant body, then tripped down to open the door.
Chapter 6
Mr. Lamb was startled. Never in his whole life had he ever been met at a door by such a beautiful, half naked female. Up until his retirement two years ago, he had been a bookkeeper for the "VVE WRECK EM" demolition company and had always worked alone in a trailer at the wrecking sites. Therefore, although he had often heard salesmen, policemen, and the like brag on how they had caught a cock-hungry housewife alone for a day, he had never. In fact, his life had been quite the contrary to;his secret hopes and desires.
If he could have had his way, he would have been a break-in man in a French whore house where he could have used his cock and fucked himself into a babbling idiot every day of his adult years. Instead (and he was bitter about this), he had married Maude at nineteen and to this day had never had his full cock in her. "You're too big!" He could still hear her screaming on their wedding night almost fifty years ago. "Take it out! Take it out!" He didn't fight it. He knew he was large. So, up until his retirement he had settled for a monthly blow job by Maude and a twice a week visit to whores. Now, however, when he finally got an opportunity to fuck something for free, where was he?