A Little Bump on the Head

The following is a short story of consensual, romantic sex between an older woman and much younger man.

*****

Lizzy came home from her real estate job late in the afternoon, pleased to see Rob's truck in the yard, the young handyman she'd hired to do some work around the house.

At 66, Lizzy wasn't up to the task of painting lawn furniture or fixing various things that always seemed to be need painting or fixing.

The single woman was long divorced, but happily so, dating now and then but engaging in no serious long-term relationships. And besides, the dating pool of acceptable men in her age range was fairly shallow. She'd endured the entreaties of well-meaning lady friends she should perhaps date younger men, but that was a concept she casually brushed aside.

But that was not to say she didn't privately entertain the notion. She would look at younger men, some much younger, and wonder if they found her attractive. For her age, she was a very beautiful woman, well kept and athletic, tall with wispy light-blonde shoulder-length hair and a lean, angular body kept firm and shapely by her exercise routine.

She looked good, and she knew it, but wasn't so sure anyone much younger than herself would.

She walked into her house, then out onto her spacious back deck, where Rob was hard at work, an industrious 21-year-old college senior eager to make a few bucks working around the well-to-do neighborhood for people with the means to contract the work out. She thought him quite handsome, with his athletic young body in tight short-sleeved denim workshirt and snug jeans, and messy mop of unruly blonde hair.

"Hi Rob, look at you go, you've done a lot of work today!" Lizzy said brightly, standing on the deck by Rob, who knelt and painted the deck railing and balustrades, long in need of a touch up.

"Oh hi, Mrs. Tomlin, didn't hear you come out," the boy said, turning sidelong to look at her silhouetted in the bright late-afternoon sunshine.

He liked what he saw, he always did. Lizzy wore a short khaki skirt and sleeveless white blouse and brown flats, her long sinewy arms and legs highlighted in the sunbeams, showing signs of age to be sure, with slight saggy flesh and wrinkles here and there, but nonetheless spectacular.

He was particularly smitten with her legs, and surreptitiously gazed at the long, freckled shins below her shortish skirt and tanned, muscular calves that flowed and flexed as she stood moving from foot to foot as she talked to him. He could see the slight wrinkles in her inner thighs exposed in the skirt that rose a few inches above her knobby little knees, and thought them rather sexy.

But Rob knew he'd never make a play for her, he was too shy, too polite, and confined his escapades with the elegant older woman to his masturbatory fantasies. And as much as Lizzy thought no handsome young buck like Rob would be interested in an old woman like her, likewise Rob thought no one as classy and beautiful as leggy Mrs. Tomlin would give him a second thought as a lover.

They chatted a bit longer, Rob drinking in the view of the sexy older woman until she left the deck.

"Been a long day, Rob, you finish up, I'm going up to my bedroom to change, maybe go for a run," she said, walking away, Rob's eyes riveted to the lovely calves flexing as she walked.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Tomlin...I had something I was going to ask you, but can't remember now...if I do, I'll let you know," he smiled.

"No problem, Rob," she called out as she entered the house, closing the slider.

Moments later, it dawned on him. He'd meant to ask about some kayaks and gear she had in the garage and wanted moved, but he wasn't sure where to. He put down his brush, wiped his hands and went inside.

"Mrs. Tomlin?" he called out as he stood in the kitchen, moving to the stairs and calling up, "Mrs. Tomlin?"

He made his way carefully up the stairs, gently calling her name, not wanting to surprise her. He peeked around the corner to the big master bedroom, finding it empty. He looked in the giant walk-in closet, and she wasn't there either.

He was about to leave the room when the bathroom door opened and out walked the lovely Mrs. Tomlin, as naked as the day she was born.

She didn't see him at first, rifling through her nearby bureau presumably in search of her running clothes. Rob stood, struck dumb and immobile, as he looked on the sexiest older-woman body he'd ever seen.

Her tits were majestic, large and fleshy and white, her nipples huge and brown and centering a sexy patch of creamy white flesh untouched by the sun. Her ass was small but perfectly shaped, saggy at the bottom in a delicious fold of delicate wrinkles and her thighs were full and muscular and tanned beneath the alluring sexy sags and wrinkles of an older woman.

He knew he should leave. But if he moved, she'd see he was there, scream, and embarrass them both. So he stood, uncertain and nervous, as she turned now, holding pair of panties, about to put them on and showing him, unwittingly, a gloriously gray-black patch of abundant pubic hair.

She looked up. And saw him, the boy standing with eyes wide open and a look of complete shock on his face, outmatched only by her own.

"ROB!" she screamed, momentarily frozen.

"MRS. TOMLIN!" he screamed back, averting his eyes. "I'm so sorry! I didn't...I just came up to ask you...I'm SORRY!"

She frantically covered her pubic patch and darted back toward the bathroom, eyes sidelong and scared, watching him as she ran. And slamming headfirst into the door frame.

She crumbled to the ground, appearing to do so in slow motion to Rob, who stood, helplessly watching as the beautiful naked woman as old as his grandmother flopped to her back on the bedroom floor rug, groaning as she landed, out cold.

"HOLY FUCK!" Rob screamed.

He was torn between leaving her there, racing out never to return, or helping. He figured it was his doing that caused the accident, and raced to her side, kneeling and 100 percent unsure of what to do when he got there.

She was on her back, those tits splayed out to the sides, her legs parted, one drawn up and wide apart, her giant silvery-gray bush completely exposed. He looked her up and down, trying not to look and failing. She moaned as she lay there, a big red knot forming on her forehead from the impact. Rob moved his hands as if to help then just looked at them, not at all certain exactly where to put them.

Then he scooped her into his arms, one under her shoulders, the other under her magnificent sexy old legs, bending to pick her up. And in the process, finding his face inches from that incredible patch of fur at her crotch. He gulped and inhaled getting ready to lift, the slightly funky, musky scent of her pussy wafting into his nostrils.

"Jesus Christ," he moaned to himself, sniffing again with more purpose this time, feeling shame embrace him as he lifted her naked, moaning body off the floor. "Just get her into bed, just get her into bed..."

He put her down on her back on the bed, rolling her to her side to pull down the blanket and sheet, watching her sexy wrinkled butt jiggle as he did, trying to ignore it. He rolled her back into the space, quickly covering her up to the chin where he noticed the sexy wattle of her neck, wanting to bury his face into it.

"Goddammit, what the fuck's wrong with me," he groaned to himself.

He stood back, looking at her slowly wake up, wanting to run, wanting to stay. He stayed as she blinked her eyes and saw him there. He smiled a very weak smile.

"Oh my GOD, Rob!" she cried out, clutching the blanket to her chin and up and over her face, which was deep crimson in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"No, no, no!" he cried out. "Me, it was me, I'M sorry, I just came up...I remembered what...those kayaks and stuff...I didn't know..I didn't think...oh, shit, Mrs. Tomlin, please, please, it's my fault!"

Slowly she pulled the blanket down, her face still blushed, the knot on her head growing into a glowing egg.

"No..I...oh God, Rob, this is so...embarrassing, I'm so sorry," she groaned, one hand feeling the knot on her head and wincing as she touched it.

"No, Mrs. Tomlin, it's me, my bad, all me," he babbled. "I didn't...can I...what can we do...God, that's a big lump...I'm worried...concussion..."

She smiled a weak smile of her own.

"No, I'm fine, I'm just so damned clumsy, God," she groaned. "But what's done is done, it happened, it's over, no harm, no foul...OK?"

"OK," he sighed. "Look, I didn't see...I mean I wasn't looking..."

"No, no, of course not," she said, shaking her head, stopping at the throbbing pain it caused in it. "But you can...would you please maybe go down and get me an ice bag? That might help."

"Of course, of course, Mrs. Tomlin!" he said, eager to get the hell out of the room.

He ran downstairs, grabbing a plastic bag and filling with ice from the freezer, then scouting about for a dish towel to wrap it in, then racing back upstairs where Mrs. Tomlin was sitting up against the headboard, the blanket carefully clutched to her neck. He went to her, placing it on her head gently, sitting next to her. He held it there, and she rested her hand on his as he did.

He felt a surge of energy as their flesh touched, as did she. He quickly pulled away, leaving her to hold it.

"I got it, Rob,it's OK," she said with a gentle smile. "Can you maybe get me some Advil, I think it's in the bathroom, on the counter, and a glass of water?"

"Sure, sure," he said as calmly as he could, going into the bathroom.

He quickly filled a glass of water, and looked about for the Advil, amid rows of other stuff, mostly makeup and toothpaste and the usual holdings of a bathroom. Coming back out with the water, he handed it to her.

"Can't find the Advil, you sure it's in there Mrs. Tomlin?"

"Oh...I thought it was," she said, still holding the ice bag to her bump, her head rolling onto the shoulder farthest from him. "Maybe there, the nightstand..."

She pointed to the small table next to her bed as she turned her head, eyes closed, still trying to make sense of this bizarre situation, and Rob looked next to the books and magazines there but couldn't find it. Thinking nothing of it, he opened the drawer - and froze when inside he saw a collection of small vibrators of various sizes and shapes, rolling together noisily and into the small bottle of Advil there.

She heard the drawer open, heard the slight rattle of the plastic sex toys banging into each other and too late remembered they were there. Her eyes shot open and she snapped her head to the side, the bump throbbing as she did, looking at him looking into the drawer, staring, open mouthed.

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed again, putting the water glass on the nightstand and pulling the blankets back up over her pretty face. "OH MY GOD!"

"NO!" he screamed back. "It's OK..it's...it's OK..."

He sat down on the bed next to her, feeling her heat through the blankets, hands gently tugging them down to look into her teary brown eyes.

"It's OK, Mrs. Tomlin, it's OK," he said again.

"Oh my GOD, Rob, you must...you must think...God, that I'm a sex-crazed old woman!" she groaned.

"No, no, no, of course not," he said calmly, bending closer to her, the blanket dipping to her chin, smiling at her.

"Why...would I think that? You're ..."

He fought for the right words in the inordinately awkward ensuing silence, feeling around his brain, failing and then just letting what was on his mind finally spill out in a breathless rush.

"...a beautiful,beautiful woman, a beautiful..normal woman! That's what I think," he said, his smile igniting hers.

"Really?" she asked, astonished, feeling herself lean closer to him as he leaned toward her.

"Really," he said softly, gently, bending to her, lips grazing hers, completely convinced he was crazy but unable to stop. "Really..."

They kissed, gently at first, slight moans escaping their lips, hers feeling soft and heavenly and moist to his, then more urgently. Lips parting. His hand reaching for and cupping around her neck, the soft flesh of it exciting and warm. Their tongues meeting, their moans increasing, tongues thrashing in each other's mouths, heads twisting, grinding, intensity increasing.

Neither one noticed the blankets slipping down to her belly as they kissed, lost in a wonderfully romantic moment between a woman and a man 45 years her junior.

"Oh...my...God..." she moaned as they broke their kiss, Rob's lips brushing her puckered cheek, then down to nuzzle that incredibly sexy wattle of her neck, kissing, licking the salty, slightly sweaty meat of it. "We...I...shouldn't...should we?"

He broke away from that luscious throat and caressed her very beautiful face, eyes locked on her big brown ones.

"I don't know...but it feels...right?" he said, surprised at the question, looking down at her tits and, moaning, she making no effort to cover them up. "My GOD, Mrs. Tomlin...beautiful...do you have any idea how beautiful..."

"No," she giggled, biting her lip as his handsome young face leaned toward her bosom, feeling emboldened for no good reason other than a powerful urge she couldn't control. "Show me..."

He buried his face into her marvelous tits, licking the freckled cleavage and thick flesh there, caressing the wrinkles with them as she moaned, hands around his head, urging him on. He cupped her boobs in his hands, massaging, squeezing, relishing the deliciously soft feel of them, then licking one thick nipple in his mouth to suck. She groaned, head lolling to one side, letting the young stud nurse at her breast.

"My God...I never thought...you're so young...I'm so o..."

"Beautiful," he interjected, his moans lost in her tit as he suckled at her boob. "You're so beautiful..."

"My God," she hissed again, running her hands in his bushy blonde hair, feeling every nerve in her body alive and wanting. "I can't believe we're...oh God...lower, Rob...lower!"

She gently but firmly pushed his willing head down, his kisses lathering her boobs then the slight, white paunch of her belly, as she pulled the blanket aside, letting her aroma waft to his nose. He sniffed deeply, devouring the muskiness of her pussy as he looked at it, that thick bush inviting, the dark flesh within gleaming with sudden moisture.

"I...I don't shave there...sorry," she said in a soft, unnecessary apology. "And I haven't...showered today...I may not be...fresh..."

He laughed, looking into that furry cleft, licking his lips.

"I must say, I've never...seen one...like this," he whispered, sniffing. "It's so different...perfect...beautiful...and your scent...God..."

She curled a finger into her mouth, biting it coquettishly as she looked at him now kissing her tanned thighs, eyes on her, licking the soft wrinkles of them. He felt the muscles tense beneath her flesh as she parted them, the sagging inner meat wiggling as he did. He groaned, slithering down, laying flat between them, kissing them, licking them, sucking on that delicious flesh, nibbling at it. She shuddered head to toe as he did, her hands on his head, moving it.

"Eat...eat me baby!" she groaned, as he did just that, burying his face in furry chasm, the oily lips parting and sliding on his cheeks as his tongue dove between them, lapping madly. "EAT MY PUSSY BABY!"

She could not recall ever saying those words before, not when she was young, certainly not as she aged, but they felt right and necessary and she murmured them over and over and over as the eager young man's talented tongue laved at her cunt meat, washing up and down her lips and tickling her clit.

"EAT MY PUSSY!" she bellowed now, letting it all out, cupping his head to her soaking cunt and slamming her muscular old thighs around his head, scissoring him in place, an inescapable grip he had no intention of seeking release from, hands caressing the squeezing meat.

"OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCKKKKK!" she roared, arching her back and sliding down on the bed, ankles locked, thighs throbbing around his young face, grinding her sex into his eager mouth.

Rob attached his lips to her clit, sucking it like a nipple, dribbling it with his tongue, feeling her entire body respond, tensing, muscles squeezing, thrusting into him. Her lips were thick and wet, kissing around his cheeks as they burrowed deeper between them.

She came long and hard, going silent as she did, mouth open but nothing coming out, her legs locked out straight and quivering from the intensity of her sexual scissor grip on his ears, feeling a blast of energy surge from her pussy, into his mouth and filling his being.

Her flow of orgasmic fluids was a surge of sticky liquid, aromatic and copious and flooding his trapped face, and he licked harder still, swallowing her, eating her liquid offerings and finding himself dizzy and light headed from the lack of oxygen as he was further compressed in her powerful old thighs. She lifted herself up off the bed, his hands cupped around the flexing hardness of her supple white cheeks, marveling at the silky power of her mounds, thumbs slipping into her hole, fingering her as she flooded his mouth in her endless stream.

When she finally stopped cumming, then she let out a long, sibilant hissing gasp as she relaxed back down onto the bed. Rob's hands came up to caress the prison bars of her thighs, massaging the now slack meat of them until they parted and he found himself gasping for long-deprived air. He panted as he rested between her slack thighs, kissing the sweaty meat of them and looking up over her splayed tits into her beatific, flushed, smiling face.

"That...was..amaaaaaazing," she cooed, running her small, bony old hand over his smeared face. "Sorry if I squeezed you too hard, but I have...NEVER cum like that!"

"Oh, no, I loved it," he growled, kissing her thighs again, watching them quiver at his lips. "You have pretty strong legs..."

"For an old lady?" she giggled, wiggling her thigh meat at him. "Yeah, I guess I do. How's your head?"

"Great!" he laughed. "How's yours?"

She laughed, touching her bump.

"Getting better," she smiled. "Now...c'mere, you..."

He was all smiles as he knelt up on the bed, peeling off his shirt as she reached for his belt, undoing it and peeling down his jeans. He shucked them, and his underwear, his long hard cock bobbing wetly before him. She groaned at the sight of it, and pulled at his hips, kneeling him up by her head, his cock at her puckered mouth.

"My turn," she growled. "And do be a good boy and get one of my toys out of the nightstand!"

Moments later, he was balls deep in her wrinkled mouth, head back and gasping at the velvety feel of her wet tongue lashing over his cock, one hand on the shaft madly jerking him in and out of her lips, groaning as she worked and he pressed the buzzing vibrator into the furry wetness of her cunt.

She slurped around his cock, thighs parted, hips wriggling side to side as the toy buzzed at her clit, her hand flashing up and down his shaft, forearm flesh tight and dancing with tendon and sinew as he watched, enraptured by the sight of her blowing him.

She was good, very good, easily better at sucking dick than any young woman he'd ever had. She smiled up at him as she devoured his meat, that tongue tickling the sensitive underside of its head, her other hand not-so-gently kneading his huge, bloated balls.

"Oh, GOD, Mrs.Tomlin...you're so...the best, the best!" he babbled, working the vibrator deeper into her furry cleft.

Suddenly, she pulled him over atop her in a 69, his cock at her mouth, balls draped over her eyes and forehead, tickling the bump on her head. He dipped his face down between her thighs, plunging the vibrator into her hole and lapping madly at her clit again, feeling it tremble to his touch. She ingested him to the balls, letting her throat muscles work feverishly at the tip, coaxing him toward orgasm. He screamed a long, guttural scream into her furry wet maw as he felt it building. She locked her legs around his head again, curling a muscular calf over the back of his neck, hooking that foot under the opposite knee in a figure-four scissors that completely imprisoned him.