a short story by Varangian
“Hey, big guy,” the wrinkled crone called to me. “Looking for a blow job?”
As I approached I had seen the old woman leaning against the lamp post before she spoke and thought she was a drunk, which was a reasonable assumption, considering the neighborhood. None of the several people nearby bothered to turn his head to see my response to her blatant offer.
“No, grandma,” I replied glibly. “I’m just out to buy some Vaseline to fuck my cat.”
She cackled, then hacked like a smoker. “That’s cheap pussy!” she gasped and coughed again.
I stopped, because I was intrigued by the ancient creature who was dressed as primly as my great aunt Margeret and had very alert eyes.
“You should be up in the next block, college boy,” she said through the smoke of her dangling cigarette. “The girls there are a lot younger, but none of them charge as little as I do.”
A grotesquely obese black woman in impossibly brief shorts passed by, leering at me. The old woman nodded a greeting at her.
“So what’s your price?” I asked her just to be polite.
“With my teeth out I’ll gum you for a dime,” she replied smugly.
“A dime!” I objected. “You can’t make a living like that!”
“A dime to maintain my professional standing, dearie. Otherwise I’d do it for fun.”
“That’s very considerate of you, ma’am. But to tell the truth I wasn’t looking for a woman.”
“Is that so?” she said. “Then you’ve come to the right place. I can get you a boy, if you like; a pretty, hairless child of twelve who sports a large cock.”
“I’m not into boys,” I hastened to inform her.
“No? How about a biker or a prissy young man?”
“No, no. I’m not queer. I was just out for a stroll.”
She eyed me sternly. “You can’t fool me, fella. You think I’m too old for you, right?”
I was about to move on and escape the awkward scene, but she grabbed my arm. “If you don’t want me, I can get you anything from flat-chested girls with naked pussies to women who have boobs the size of watermelons and love butt fucking. What do you say?”
A violent hand then seized my shoulder and spun me around. “Hey, Mom!” my assailant exclaimed. “Has this guy been hitting on you?”
“Let him go, Salvatore!” the woman growled. “He says he’s just out for a walk.”
The large guy pushed me hard and I almost fell backwards. “Then get off my street!” he yelled. “I have a business to run.”
“Wait, wait!” the woman cried. “I think he’s just the right guy to break in Dora.”
“Dora’s not ready yet,” he replied without turning to his mother, his eyes riveted angrily on me.
“Well I say she is! I don’t buy that shy act of hers.”
“Mom! I’ve been saving Dora for a big score. Virgins bring a sweet price nowadays that they’re so rare.”
“How long have you been feeding that girl, Sal? Four, five years? She’s getting moldy on the shelf and not earning her keep. I say now’s the time, and this geeky boy here is just the right one to introduce her to the joys of whoredom.”
The brute’s face softened, despite the woman’s emphatic blows to his shoulders. He stepped away from the assault and shrugged.
“Okay,” he said sullenly, gripping the front of my shirt. “You’ve been elected to rip little Dora.”
Dora was not so little I learned, when Sal dragged me to a nearby basement apartment. She was only two or three inches shorter than I and appeared to be of an age that would be legal in some jurisdictions. She was dressed like a schoolgirl: plaid skirt, white blouse, bare legs with white anklets and pumps. Cute ringlets hung from her raven hair. Her pale face looked up at me shyly. She was almost pretty.
“Who are you?” she asked when Sal left, slamming the door behind him.
“That thug wants me to rape you!” I exclaimed. “Is there a back way out of here?”
“Oh, that’s just Cousin Sal,” she said with a dismissive wave of her slender arm. “I bet Grandma put him up to this.”
“Did you know they intend to make a whore of you?” I asked vehemently.
“Of course, and I’ve been putting them off. They want to sell me as a virgin, but I’m not.”
The girl had an appealing, girlish tone to her voice. I took an arm to urge her sit with me on the couch. When she did so, her skirt rose to reveal enticing thighs as pale as her face. I stared at them, becoming aroused, and she parted her legs just slightly.
“But I bet you are,” she said.
I suppose I blushed, because it was an awful truth for a guy of twenty-two.
“I, I’ve never had the chance,” I stammered with eyes riveted on those luscious thighs.
“Well now you do,” she said sweetly, raising my head with a finger under the chin.
“Really? You, you don’t mind?”
“Not at all! I think it might be fun.” she exclaimed gaily. “It hurt the first time, of course. Reverend Fatwell told me he was bringing me closer to God, so I grit my teeth and endured it. But the second time we prayed together it almost felt good. He pulled out too soon, though, and asked me to taste the essence of the lord.”
I placed a hand on her cool thigh to learn that it was as soft as it looked. She kissed my lips, a quick peck, then looked at me slyly.
“Reverend Fatwell is a bit stubby down here,” she said, fingering my groin. “I’ve heard that some guys are much larger.”
“I’m big enough,” I announced proudly, although worried that her groping would set me off.
“Let’s see!” she said, slipping to her knees in front of me.
I leaned back in the couch as she pulled down my pants and boxers.
“Oh, yes! You are bigger! And your knob looks so tasty.”
I emitted a groan when she held the shaft and placed her lips over the fat end of my cock. After three or four gentle sucks my pleasure exploded in her mouth But she stayed with it without recoiling until I had to push her head away. She smiled up at me with my stuff drooling down her chin. She leaned forward to spit on the tail of my shirt and wipe her messy face.
She stood without a word and began to undress, her skirt and panties first. The sight of her untamed bush above succulent upper thighs stirred my cock to renewed life. She turned her back to face the opposite wall where in the reflection of a broad mirror I watched her open the blouse slowly. Firm, alabaster breasts came immediately into view, because she wore no bra. I quickly removed the rest of my clothes, then grabbed her perky butt cheeks with both hands. She turned again to me, pushing her bush at my face. I rose quickly, my hard cock wagging, and embraced the girl before easing her onto the cushions. She lay there invitingly, one leg splayed to the floor, the other thrown over the back of the couch. I kissed down the exquisite near thigh, staring all the while at her slightly parted pussy lips, my destination. She squirmed and squealed while I ate her out as I had learned from porno movies. But soon she pulled on my head.
“Get on top now,” she gasped.
I obliged the horny girl. She guided my cock to her opening and I penetrated her warm tightness until I was completely embedded. It felt more magnificent than I had ever dreamed! She went wild.
“Oh, yes! Oh, god!” she screamed repeatedly. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Harder!”
But between each outburst she grinned at me slyly. I could not last long, despite the recent blowjob. I banged at her until we yelled together.
“Get off now,” she demanded immediately, her stern face now appearing somewhat older than before.
I stood in confusion. I wanted to talk with her, to arrange for another time together, but she tossed me my trousers.
“You’d better dress and leave before Sal returns,” she said in a voice that had lost its girlish quality.
She went into another room and closed the door, which left me no option. I pulled on my clothes and exited the door I came in.
A group of men, geezers, were coming out of an adjacent door. One had his fly undone and there were spots on his pants. The mirror! I suddenly realized. Those old coots had been watching us through the mirror. I turned my head to see Sal and his mother standing beneath the street lamp. He was counting a wad of money.
“Come back and visit again, dearie,” the crone called to me. “We can even put you in the movies.”