Grandma and Jack: The Whole Story

"Maybe I'll call you," Bernie was saying to her as the two of them pulled up their pants, and then he turned to his friend.

"You know who would get a kick out of Joan? Reggie," Bernie decided. "We could chip in for a motel room and the three of us could do her - man we could DP her. Maybe all three of us at once."

"How could we do that?" Zeke asked.

"Use your head dumb-ass. She's got three holes."

"Oh."

"You wouldn't have to pay," Bernie told Joan. "That sound like fun?"

"I couldn't," Joan said, and then the two of them were gone and Joan was alone on the bench.

Joan got up with difficulty, and after getting her bra back down to cup her breasts, waddled over behind a tree and squatted down.

"Joan Arnold, what's become of you?" she said aloud as she let loose a torrent of Jack and semen onto the grass below her. "Peeing outside and letting two men sex you?"

After she was done she reached down and felt inside of her, cringing from the soreness of being taken like she was, but then her finger slid upwards and massaged her clit.

It was wicked, and she was wicked, Joan knew. A trip to see Father Logan was in order, since he had been her guiding light when things got tough. She wouldn't tell him about what she did, of course, but she needed to get her head on straight again, and the first step would be to stop drinking.

Maybe not completely stop, Joan reasoned as her fingers circled her little bud, and as she squatted there she thought back to what had just happened. Not so much Bernie, since she had already had him the time before, but that Zeke. He was like an animal in both word and deed.

That penis of his, Joan recalled. She had never conceived that a man could be that large. then again, maybe he wasn't a man. He was crude and rude.

But that penis, and whatever Bernie had done to fit his whole hand inside of her, making her orgasm over and over again, was still nothing like the way that huge organ of Zeke's had felt.

A minute later Joan had gone down to her knees, sent down there by the force of her self-induced orgasm, and she stayed there for a while, not really sure if she could get up.

She did eventually, brushing the dirt off her knees before grabbing her purse and hobbling out of the park to catch a cab. This time, unlike last week, she made sure that she had enough money for the cab fare.

That should have given me a clue what Bernie was like, Joan recalled after he had left her at the entrance of the park after their "date".

Never again, she vowed to herself, and as she waited for a cab to go by the thought back to that first date with Bernie.

***

Meeting Bernie...

Joan smiled at the gentleman who was waiting for her at the bar they had arranged to meet at, and although he seemed shorter and huskier than his description he gave in the ad on the Christian Seniors Dating Site, he seemed pleasant enough. His age though, now that was a lie because Bernie said he was 55, while the man facing her looked much younger.

"I put down 55 because that's the minimum age there on that site," Bernie explained after they sat at the end of the bar, "Besides, a lot of women would freak out about meeting somebody 35. I just dig older women. I don't want their pensions or their alimony. I just want them. Do you know what I mean?"

Joan jumped at that last line, because it was accompanied by a hand on her thigh, and even though it was a gentle touch and she was wearing slacks it still startled her. Still, the touch of a man after how many years, was refreshing in a way so she didn't object.

"You look like a movie star," Bernie said as the bartender came over. "Can't think of her?"

"Mary Pickford?" Joan asked giddily.

"Don't know her? Was she in Porky's?"

"I don't think so," Joan replied, and after Bernie asked her what she wanted to drink, she added, "I don't really drink much. Jack Daniels and Coke?"

"Make it two - make them doubles," Bernie said, shooing the barkeep away which one hand while lightly massaging her thigh under the bar. "You don't look 62, that's for sure. You could pass for ten years younger."

"Really, well I don't know about that, but thank you," Joan said as she blushed. "Do you date older women all the time?"

"Haven't dated a woman my age since I was 18," Bernie said, downing half of his drink and encouraging Joan to drink up. "I think it all started when my grandfather died."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Joan said, wincing when she sipped her drink and found it strong.

"No, it was good for a couple of reasons," Bernie said. "First of all nobody could stand him, especially my grandmother. Second, the night of the funeral my folks had me stay over at Grandma's house so she wouldn't have to be alone."

"That was sweet of you," Joan sighed, and the second sip of the drink didn't taste as strong.

"Grandma comes into the guest room of her house where I was sleeping, yanks down my pajamas and starts sucking my dick," Bernie explained.

"What?" Joan said.

"You heard me. Just goes down on me and sucks my cock until she got me hard and then climbed on top of me and rode me like I was a rodeo bull."

"I can't believe that! That has to be against the law!"

"No, I was old enough. I couldn't believe it either, but hey, I was 18 and young, dumb and full of cum," Bernie chuckled. "Still am, the last part I mean. She was a hell of a lay. That when I figured out that older women were the way to go, especially if they haven't had it in a while."

"I don't know what to say," Joan whispered.

"Say I'll have another," Bernie said, motioning to the bartender for refills. "And how about you Joan? How long have you been widowed?"

"Three - over three years," Joan managed to say.

"Been with a man since then?" Bernie asked, and when Joan shook her head he added, "A woman then?"

"What makes you say that?" Joan asked, flustered.

"Hey, no offense," Bernie replied. "Hey, if I was a dame I'd be the biggest lesbian in town. So were you with a woman? I'll be you were."

"Can we change the subject?" Joan asked, and as the second drink came she felt Bernie's hand slide up her thigh a bit higher.

"Sure. You've got a nice body on you," Bernie said. "Some women let themselves go but you look pretty tight."

"I do go to the gym three days a week," Joan said proudly. "I ride the bike 6 miles every time."

"I'd love to watch you sweat," Bernie said.

"Oh, I really do!"

"Love to watch you sweat all over me," Bernie said, and he smiled when Joan took a deep gulp. "And you can really knock them down too. I love a woman who can drink. Let's see, you sweat and drink. What else do you do?"

"I do a lot of knitting," Joan said, and jumped when Bernie's hand got to the top of her thigh. "And I watch TV too. Do you ever see Seinfeld? You look a lot like George on that show."

"Do you like George?"

"Oh yes."

"Then that's okay," Bernie said, and then leaned over and whispered in Joan's ear, "Do you like to suck cock?"

"What?"

"You know, sucking cock? Like this?" Bernie said, pretending to suck on his thumb, and When Joan looked at him with bulging and disbelieving eyes, he continued. "This is 2012, not 1912."

"I haven't dated in a while," Joan said as she reached for her drink.

"You'll get used to it," Bernie said. "Wish my Grandma was still around because she would have loved the way it is these days. You know what she told me?"

"Uh - no."

"She told me that night we got it on that while my dick wasn't as big as Grandpa's, I knew how to use it," Bernie said as he took Joan's non-drinking hand and brought it under the bar. "Hope you aren't one of those size queens. Here, is this big enough for you?"

"What are you doing?" Joan asked as he put her hand on the bulge in his pants and squeezed it.

"Letting you check out my stuff," Bernie said. "Not quite 6" but I get hard fast and often. You like it? You must because you're squeezing it."

Joan realized that he was right, because his hand was no longer forcing hers onto him and she was squeezing the hard tube on her own.

"That's it Joan," Bernie said. "Why don't we have one for the road and get out of here?"

"A movie?" Joan asked. "You mentioned something about a movie when we chatted on-line."

"I have a better idea," Bernie said as his hand went back onto Joan's thigh. "How about a nice walk in the park?"

***

"Let's go over here," Bernie said as he led her over to a secluded area.

"The sign said the park was closed at dark," Joan remarked.

"That means we'll have our privacy so we can get better acquainted," he said as he brought Joan over to a bench and sat her down before moving to her left and sitting down. "I'm better from this side, you know?"

"No, I don't..."

"I want you so bad," Bernie said as he leaned over and kissed Joan, and while Joan was shocked she didn't resist, even when he forced his tongue into her mouth. This was like back when she was in school, necking in the park, only this was a first kiss and her blouse was being unbuttoned.

"Bernie," Joan gasped when their first kiss ended with his hand inside her blouse. "This is our first date."

"It's called speed dating," Bernie said. "Ever hear of it? Well, this is Bernie's method. Bernie's a mover and a shaker, know what I'm saying?"

Joan squirmed as Bernie's hand squeezed her bra cup, which wasn't nearly as full as when the bra was new, but despite his crudeness she was getting aroused as his hand seemed to be everywhere at once.

"What's this?" Bernie said as his hand slid from her bra cup and under Joan's arm.

"I'm sorry," Joan said as she tried to lower her arm from around Bernie's neck. "Wasn't expecting anything like this."

"That's okay," Bernie said as his resisted Joan's effort to block him and kept toying with the hair under her arm. "It's cool. Bernie don't mind pit hair. That's who you look like. Julia Roberts. Ever see that picture in People magazine with her waving? She doesn't shave either."

"I do usually but - and I don't look anything like Julia - omigod," Joan gasped as Bernie's hand left her armpit and managed to slid his hand under her bra and lift it up so that her breasts slid out.

"Bet you've got a hairy pussy too," Bernie grunted.

"Oh my," Joan cried out as her sagging breast was seized.

"Nice and soft," Bernie growled as his hand roughly kneaded Joan's pliant breast, and Joan felt her nipples stiffen under the crude mauling. "Bernie loves hangers."

"Your tits aren't big but you've got big nipples," Bernie said at the twisted the fat peg. "Oh yeah. You like these babies handled rough, don't you. You're getting Bernie so hot, Joan. Want to see how horny you make Bernie?"

Joan sat on the edge of the bench, looking around and grateful that the area was dark and deserted, because Bernie was standing up and moving in front of her while reaching into his fly.

"Here you go," Bernie said as he waved his erect penis at Joan. "Told you it wasn't big but I don't get any complaints. Open up for Bernie."

Joan felt Bernie's hand on the back of her head, pulling her forward as he leaned forward. She told herself to get up and run, but when the head of his penis rubbed against her lips she felt her mouth open.

"That's it," Bernie sighed at he started to guide Joan's head with his hands, and then ran his hands though her hair when she moved it by herself. "Just like riding a bike. You never forget."

Joan's lips slid nearly all the way down to the base, and when Bernie dropped his pants he took it all in and her eyes were buried in his pubic hair. Up and down Joan's mouth went on the musky stub until Bernie pulled back.

"Too fucking good," Bernie said as he helped Joan up and over to an adjacent picnic table. "Turn around."

"What - we can't..."

"We can and we will," Bernie informed Joan as he tugged Joan's slacks down to her knees and then grabbed her panties. "Wish you didn't wear these. Slows stuff up."

With that Bernie yanked down Joan's panties and pushed them down to her ankles. Joan lost her balance for a second and reached out and grabbed the end of the picnic table.

"Good idea, Bernie said as he hugged her from behind. "Bernie likes to do it doggy too."

"What if somebody comes?" Joan asked as Bernie's hands slid lower.

"Somebody is coming - both of us," Bernie said, and as his hand went down Joan's stomach and between her legs he exclaimed, "Damn, I knew you'd have a hairy pussy. Bernie loves a hairy snatch. And you're wet too! Bend over"

"Omigod!" Joan cried out as she felt Bernie's penis poking around before finding the opening, and he groaned as he pushed himself into Joan's tight wet opening.

"Yeah!" Bernie groaned as he began thrusting himself in and out of Joan, leaning over and around Joan to knead her dangling breasts.

As Joan leaned over the table, she felt like crying. A 62 year old woman, in a park with a man little more than half her age, and the man was treating her like an animal.

The thought of someone - a police officer coming up upon them like this - made Joan shudder. There she was, her blouse wide open, her brassiere up around her collarbone and her panties down to her ankles, letting this virtual stranger have his was with her.

"OMIGOD!" Joan heard herself crying out as her orgasm roared through her body, and above her Bernie was cackling like a hyena while thrusting harder and faster, and even her collapsing onto the table didn't stop him.

A half hour later Joan was still leaning over the table. Bernie was pulling up his pants while telling her what a great fuck she was, and while she wanted to ask him not to use that language she was too worn out to argue or even pull up her panties and slacks.

Joan grimaced when she felt the sticky fluid running down the insides of her thighs, probably the result of the second time he had mounted her. He said it was a combination of her being even hotter than Julia Roberts and his incredible virility.

"It was good for you, wasn't it?" Bernie was asking Joan and she reached over for her purse in search of a tissue. "How many times you cum that last time?"

"I don't know," Joan said as she wiped their fluids from her legs.

"Well, if it's a boy don't name it after me," Bernie cracked. "Get you drawers up so we can get out of here. This place gives Bernie the creeps. It ain't safe for you to be alone at night."

Joan and Bernie walked out of the park, and when Bernie tried to direct her back toward the bar at the end of the street she resisted.

"You bought the last round," Bernie said. "MY turn. A nightcap on Bernie."

"Really have to get home," Joan said, so Bernie reached over and gave her a hug and a kiss, and told her he'd give her a ring sometime.

"Don't bother," Joan said, but she didn't say it until he was gone.

It took Joan 15 minutes to catch a cab, and as she rode home she vowed that she not only was done with drinking but was never going to date again. So much for dating 2012 style, she thought with a degree of disgust for the world at herself.

***

The cab ride and the mistake...

Still, she thought as the cab neared her home, there was no denying that despite how vulgar Bernie was and how crude he acted, it did feel good. Not having sex with a man in that long a time had made her forget just how good it felt to be wanted.

"12.50," the cab driver said as he pulled up in front of her house.

"Oh. Thank you," Joan said, fumbling into her purse and pulling out a ten and a five. "Keep the change."

"What change?" the man growled as he looked at the five and the one she had given him. "$12.50. $13.25 now."

"Oh dear," Joan said as she scrambled through her purse. "I thought that was a ten. I know I had more money than that."

The cab to the bar, and then the drinks she bought, Joan thought as she did a little mental math. It was the end of the month, and money usually got tight around that time. Eighty cents in change, a loose dollar, and the meter kept ticking.

"Sir, I'm sorry," Joan said. "I thought I had money."

"One of your johns rip you off?"

"What?"

"You were working the park, weren't you?" the cabbie sneered. "Business bad?

"What do you think I am?" Joan said indignantly.

"I can smell the cum from here lady," the cabbie said. "As for what you are, you're about to go to jail for theft of services unless you come up with another - let's see - now you still owe $11 more than this, and counting."

"I'll mail it to you, with a nice big tip," Joan said. "I swear."

"I got a nice big tip for you too," the cabbie said. "Tell you what. I'll take it out in trade."

"I don't understand," Joan said, but a few minutes later she did.

***

Joan reflects on the last half hour...

Joan stepped under the warm spray of the shower and stood there motionless, too tired and sore and ashamed to do much more than that. If Herb was up there watching, what would he think of her now?

Seeking out a man on a website was bad enough, and then to go and meet him at a bar? Then, when you think you can't get any lower, you're sitting out in public giving fellatio to a stranger, and when he tells you to bend over a bench like a dog so he can have sex with you, you do it like a common tramp.

It all paled in comparison to what had just taken place outside. The cab driver, a mean looking black man, not only pretty much called her a prostitute but a thief as well. It had been an honest mistake, but he said he'd been driving cabs too long to fall for that stuff.

"You see any ATMs around here?" he had sneered as he looked around the quiet rural setting. "I ain't gonna drive all around the town burning gas while you play games. Time and gas is money, momma!"

"I'll give you a break," he said, and Joan recalled how profusely she had thanked the man until she learned what she was expected to do.

"Suck it or fuck it," the man said after he brought her behind a bush in front of her very own house. "Or do I call the cops? You owe me lady."

That feeling of degradation, Joan said as she lathered herself between her legs, trying to eliminate the traces of Bernie. How could she feel so aroused and revolted at the same time? Kneeling in the dark in front of this cabbie and taking his cock first in her hand and then in her mouth.

It smelled musky and tasted worse, but the odor and taste went away the more she sucked, Joan recalled. Her cheeks were a little raw from her face hitting the zipper each time her lips went down the shaft of the cock, which was both longer and thicker than Bernie's.

It could have been a double for her late husband's penis, except for the color and the coarse pubic hair that grew down near the stump, and Joan's knees were aching after a few minutes in the dirt.

Then the cabbie started grunting as he moved her head for her, and just before his last grunt she felt the surge go through his manhood. He was ejaculating into her mouth, without even warning her, but she managed to swallow most of it without choking, and then it was over.

The cabbie was nice enough to help her up off of the ground and then he was gone.

"I didn't even know his name," Joan mumbled to herself as she continued to scrub her sex, and as she did she wondered whether she should have done what he had suggested - let him have sex with her. Let him come in and do it in her bed.

No, Joan decided as that familiar tingling began to spread inside her. She was too sore inside from all of Bernie's sexing her, and the cabbie's penis was much bigger. That would have hurt, but then again, maybe once she got started the pain would have given in to the pleasure.

A couple of minutes later, Joan was leaning against the shower wall, holding onto the bar as her legs continued to quiver from the force of her orgasm.

How many orgasms was that, she wondered as she stepped out of the shower and dried off. She had lost count, but it was worth it. She regretted the ways she had done it - in a park and in her front yard for goodness sakes - but she felt like a woman again.