Whenever she saw him, Brenda wondered how her husband’s grandfather had done so well for himself, presuming that he had made his money in running a business from the earliest days of its start-up and then selling out at the top of the market.
He had no money worries, yet Derek Hargreaves lived frugally and alone in his modest house that was tastefully furnished and kept spotlessly clean. His wild appearance made anyone who first met him think that he was a beatnik, or a Hells Angel, dressed as he so often was in a biker’s jacket, jeans, and his long legs ending in a pair of clumpy boots.
He possessed a mane of unkempt black hair that showed more than the earliest signs of going grey and it seemed never to be combed out. He just brushed it back from his bearded and lined face, only for it to fall back again in a rebellious mop.
She could not help but love his wild spirit and the time he had for her; times that had become longer in the months that had followed a grandmother’s early death.
Gran had never hidden from the family the trouble she often had in living with ‘that man’, his drinking, and suspected womanising. But that was all it was, suspicions of him straying and that she never paid any attention to whenever she heard a critical word said about him.
“I’m keeping off the booze now, because of you, lass,” he had said recently and in a rare admission of what he felt about her being around.
She kept house for him, three days a week, or as and when her zero-hours contract work allowed, Derek saying that he was glad that she did the washing and ironing of ‘my ‘main stuff’. He would deal with his ‘smalls’ as he referred to his underpants and handkerchiefs, the latter usually a brightly coloured bandana, of some kind, with patterns dyed into the cloth.
“You’re a good-looking lass,” was something else that he would often say in a deep voice accented with its heavy Lancashire burr, a voice that held affection for her, nevertheless. “Your man’s looking after you, I hope, and he must make you happy or I’ll clip his ears.”
“Gramps really!” she had laughed the last time he had asked it of her so directly. “Don’t worry about that or me. I can look after myself.”
“I wish you’d call me Derek. We’ve known each other too long to hang onto those old ways of it. And now that Gran’s gone you can call me that.”
“Do you miss her?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
“Aye, sometimes, but you know as well as anyone that we didn’t always get on.” He shifted in his comfortable armchair and rested his head against one of the wings. “I’ll not keep you talking, or it’ll mean you won’t get the chores done. I do appreciate what you do for me.”
“Done with love, you know that,” she smiled and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Brenda felt the brush of his hand on her arm for an instant. The man with his rough appearance had his tender side and she knew that he worked hard on managing some properties that he owned and wouldn’t let the grass grow under his feet. “Have a snooze and dream of whatever it is that you dream about.”
“You wouldn’t want to know, lass,” he winked.
Only she did know what he was thinking and had done so at times when Derek thought she was not aware of his look upon her. Nor would he know the unsettling effect that such a look had upon her. He was something of a brute, often wild-eyed and brusque, his good looks fading, but he was undoubtedly a passionate and caring man…on his terms.
The man seated in his chair and seeming to doze had provoked many a dissolute thought in her. Her husband, Jon, was the son of his eldest daughter, one of the four children fathered by the man she would often gaze at as he sauntered about in his small garden, or when he was seen working in the greenhouse and bringing on the many flowers that he filled the hanging baskets with. They always made such a colourful display, in summer, when he hung them on their hooks at the front and back of the house.
Here was a man, still agile despite the passing of the years, with whom she had argued and had said that her unproductive times with Jon should not be of too great a concern to him. Time was still on her side, just.
“Just ask and I’ll have a word with him, Jon’s my grandson, after all.”
“Yes, so why don’t things happen for me as they did for you and Lily?”
“I don’t know lass, except that we had the kids when we were young and had little money, and still wanted to have them.”
“Yeah, it took two to click, didn’t it?”
“Yes, lass, it did…four times no less. Talk to me whenever you want to. I’m not a man who goes around blabbing about family stuff to anyone else, especially outside of it. I never have been.”
It was then that she had taken to wondering what secret she, and Derek, might get to keeping.
♥
The doorbell chimed twice. It was their agreed signal that she had arrived even though Brenda had, long ago, been given a set of the house keys. She persisted in still ringing the bell.
“Sorry I’m late!” she called out to him and she met Derek’s unmistakably admiring look upon her. “I got offered some work so I took it. I hope that I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I was just relaxing out here and enjoying the weather.”
The early afternoon sun was warm and she gazed for an instant at the man with his stubble beard stark on his face. He must do this whenever the chance arose because she did not see any paler skin on his arms or hairy chest that was now exposed to her gaze, his short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned and baggy-legged shorts tight on his crotch.
She felt a shiver of uncommon longing aroused by the sight of his slender body, the whiteness of the hair on his chest, and the wildness of the man’s appearance before her. She was glad that her sunglasses hid her wondering look from him.
It was becoming easier to relax in Derek’s company as troubles elsewhere began to take a toll on her mood.
“Don’t fret, lass, I’ve kept myself busy with things about the house and the greenhouse. Now, I’m having a cup of tea.” Derek gazed up at her as he sat on a sun-lounger, but the leg support had been taken off and propped against a wall. “Get yourself a drink and sit out here with me. I haven’t seen you for a few days.”
“It matters does it?” she asked, her tone brittle.
“Yes, it does,” he answered calmly. “What’s up, or has the job put you in a mood?”
She sighed at his ‘no-nonsense’ ways with her. “Sorry, but it’s Jon again…”
“It’s Jon again about the same thing we spoke about a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah, that again.” Derek followed her into the house and watched as Brenda poured out some lemonade from the bottle kept in the fridge. She then added a slice of lemon that she cut from a fresh one that he had left in the fruit dish. “Sorry, I should have asked you first.”
“Don’t be silly, this place is as much your home as anywhere else,” he assured her as he stood by Brenda’s side and delighted in her sleeveless blouse that was worn with a swirly skirt. The young woman loved her bracelets and he watched in fascination as she brushed back her hair, the bracelets jangling as they slid down over her slender wrists, Brenda’s breasts shaped by her blouse as she moved. She did get to him, and the news that Jon wasn’t up to scratch only made the feeling worse. “If this goes on for much longer I’ll have to step in and help you out.”
“No, just you stay out of it!” she snapped and took a long sip of her drink. “I’ll get on with things. Just go outside, Derek, and enjoy the weather. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
“Only if you’ll join me, later?” he coaxed, not deterred by her sudden flare of temper. He was taken once more by how she was dressed, what Brenda brought to the eye, and he wanted her to sit outside with him and chat as they often did.
“Yeah, okay.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “I want to be here and get away from what’s going on at home, but…”
“But you’ve brought that all with you?”
“Yes, though I’ve tried not to. You always calm me down.”
“And I’ll have to think of a way to help you calm down again, or some more, won’t I?”
Derek said nothing further on the matter and left her. He settled in the sun chair and tugged on the arms until the back was lowered and he lay back, images of Brenda swirling before his closed eyes.
He was taken by her broad-hipped, fleshy, and voluptuous beauty, how Brenda’s breasts filled her blouses or dresses, the jumpers she wore in winter, how they moved whenever she raised her arms or swept a hand through the tumble of her hair, often dyed blonde. It was that colour now, and it suited her.
There were times when he missed his woman, but seeing Brenda now reminded him of how bearing and nursing four kids had wrecked Lily’s once shapely figure. Times had changed, so much, that he reckoned Brenda wouldn’t be having four bairns like he and Lily had done. But, like Lily, her breasts were full and rounded, shaped so enticingly by what she wore, her nipples often to be seen poking at the fabric.
He realised that he had become besotted with her and how destructive it would be to take her, if that was where the closeness was slowly taking them.
Jeez, he needed some release from what he so often felt when Brenda called by. It was destructive to feel the way that he did about another man’s wife, a relation, but restraint was wasting him. Expectations raged with reality, but Brenda had her moments when he knew that she was toiling with what passed for her life with Jon.
He fingered his crotch and adjusted the fit of his shorts. It had become tighter as the images of Brenda became hopes of what he would do…that he’d like to do her and also get some balance back into his life.
He too would be considered selfish, but his grandson was making Brenda’s life unbearable, and he already had an answer on how to settle things between them.
♥
Brenda worked to vacuum the rooms that she always spent the most time on, dusted and polished what she thought needed it the most.
As she worked, dusting the window shelf of what had once been Derek’s and Lily’s bedroom, she looked down and saw how Derek lay back in the sun lounger. She could not miss the swell in those shorts he had chosen to wear, and she wondered if he was thinking of her.
How she wanted to do what he was seen to be doing, adjusting the fit of those shorts on the swell of his prick. She wanted to slip a hand over his leg and then under the hem of those shorts and touch the tip of his penis just as he was seen to be doing.
The man was lonely and the man was horny, and from the way that he was touching himself she knew what he had meant by saying that he’d ‘have to think of a way to help you.”
Would she really go so far as to become his mate and gratify him as she took what she could from him, and get impregnated along the way by a very close relation of Jon’s? Derek had not made a move on her or said anything directly, but that did not keep her from wondering what lay under his shorts. She wanted to touch and feel his meaty cock and balls that she imagined hanging between his legs.
Everyone in the family, all of whom lived in nearby streets as families once did many years ago, knew that she went over to help him and clean. But none of them knew how capable Derek might remain and that even he might get to using her visits to have some special company.
She’d make it special given half the chance.
Downstairs and at the door that led out to the garden, she called out to him once more.
“Don’t overdo the sunbathing. You don’t need it!”
Derek heard a happier sound in her voice. “I’m still waiting for you to be out here with me!”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve finished what needed doing!”
“You reckon?” he was heard to say with a disbelieving laugh. “Come out here, lass, and sit with me for a spell.”
Brenda chose to do what he asked of her, settling in the chair that he had placed beside him, hitching up her skirt to reveal some of her thighs. She knew that his eyes were on her and raised her arms, for a moment, to rest her head in cupped hands and felt her blouse tighten against her breasts as she did so.
“What have you been thinking about while you’ve been sitting out here?” she asked and turned suddenly to catch his gaze upon her.
“The same as you will have been doing while you were cleaning the place for me. I want to help if you’ll let me and like this.”
Brenda saw the glint in his eyes, his soft smile, as Derek reached out and brushed a hand over her bare thigh. She did not stop its progress as it swept a slow caress over her warm skin and moved under her skirt before it brushed her mound. His fingers pressed into her slit, offering caresses that she did nothing to prevent.
“So, you don’t think it’s crazy to be doing this?”
“No, lass, not crazy but reckless. But I still reckoned that I could help you if you wanted that from me, hairy old man that I am,” he said, his voice low and persuasive. He could have said ‘horny old man’ for that was how he was feeling and behaving.
Her hand trembled, but Brenda reached across the narrow space between them and slowly played her fingers over the bulge in his shorts.
“Jeez, Derek, you’re so large and hard, already!”
“Tell me about it, lass,” he smiled as his eyes drifted over her and he caressed her leg as a first step in persuading her to agree to what he now suggested. “We could help each other out.”
“We…we can try,” she stammered, shifting off the seat. Brenda knelt on the grass beside his chair as Derek lifted his hips off the lounger and pushed down his shorts and briefs, the front distorted by his penis and nut sac. It sprang free, and she moved away, startled on seeing him fully exposed to her gaze and touch. “You bring so much!”
“Yes, Lily said that too, and I reckon that you know what to do for me.”
“You crazy man…you wonder,” she said in a low voice, no longer dismayed by what she looked and touched.
Tentatively, Brenda rubbed and played with Derek’s cock until it was fully erect and throbbing. She then bent over him and ran her tongue tip along his shaft and swirled it around the rim of his cock head. She then slid her mouth down over him and sucked while a hand fondled his nut sac and squeezed gently, rolling his nuts as if playing with dice.
“It’s been a while, lass, so take it slow!”
He had begun to push up from the lounger to meet her wonderful claims, the cramps in his belly a sure sign of the effect that her actions were having on him.
“So strong…you’re so strong!” she gasped, almost gagging on his meat. “Are you taking pills for it?”
“Hell no, lass. I’m not that far gone, and who would I do that for, anyway?”
“For me, but it won’t be necessary, as I can feel how it is for you.” Brenda accepted, instantly, that she wanted him to fuck her and to do that ever so slowly with that magnificent tool that she kissed the tip of. “Take me to bed and we finish this there. I haven’t touched your bedroom…I just watched you as you lay out here.”
“So, you wanted this from me the moment that you arrived?”
“Yeah. What a scheming bitch I am, but Jon’s not going to do me as hard as you want to and mean it. I’m even wondering if he’s spreading it about.”
“He’s crazy if he’s doing that when he’s got you.”
“Not in the ways that I want. He’s selfish too in ways that I know you aren’t! Now go with me, please!”
She rushed away from him and Derek followed, as best as he could, his shorts pulled halfway up his thighs. What a sight he would make, but no one overlooked the garden and he could have taken here there, out in the open.
Now, in the house, he could give free rein to his hunger for her and perhaps start the journey to find her as Brenda had hoped that Jon would have done. The guy was crazy to neglect his duties to the young woman that he would now claim and end a drought that was not of his making.
♥
She lay back on his bed as lustful Grandpa fingered, licked, and sucked on her pussy’s lips, or darted his tongue into her for minutes of unbearable and noisy pleasure. He coaxed her to abandon any restraint and to concede to him in every way that he wanted from her.
Older he may be, but she was captivated by his sinewy strength, by his long penis that was like…
