Matt and Lauren Pt. 01

I looked across at Lauren. I could see her face was flushed and her breathing was now very laboured. I slid a hand onto her thigh, running up from her knee towards the hem of her skirt. She spread her legs wide so I carried on up to the honey pot at the top of her legs. I barely touched her but she reacted immediately.

"Do you want to move on from here," I whispered, thinking she was more than ready.

"No ... no ... I want to watch some more," she breathed huskily. She closed her legs and pressing her thighs together trapped my hand against her mound. I swear I heard her moan.

The third clip came on. This one was a lesbian clip. A busty young blonde girl arrived at her friend's apartment. She too was a busty young thing but had black hair. It soon became obvious that blondie wanted to take their friendship to a more personal and sexual level. Blackie clearly wasn't that fussed but still allowed blondie to kiss and caress her for a while. She resisted more when blondie began to fondle her ample charms. But despite this initial resistance, she eventually howled her way through a tumultuous orgasm before being persuaded to reciprocate and go down on the blonde girl. I thought it was hot and it certainly got me turned on. Lauren on the other hand seemed totally unfazed by it all.

At this point I paused the DVD player for a toilet break and with the bottle of wine empty took the opportunity to get us both another drink. A large gin for Lauren and vodka for me. I knew I was onto a winner because gin makes Lauren go completely crazy. As we settled back down onto the sofa I pressed the play button on the remote.

The fourth clip started immediately. This time it was in a bedroom. But it looked more like a Nursing Home type of room rather than a boudoir in someone's home. The door opened and a young blonde girl dressed in a nurse's outfit brought in an old man in a wheelchair.

Now this guy was old! And by old I mean ancient. He looked to be at least in his late seventies although it's hard sometimes to be that accurate. But he did look distinctly unwell. Gaunt with a sallow complexion he appeared to be very frail and remained seated in his wheelchair.

There was no great preamble in setting the scene. This was going to be a straightforward blowjob as the nurse unzipped the old man's trousers and pulled out his cock.

Lauren gasped and I admit, so did I.

Already erect the thing was bloody enormous, even allowing for distortion from the film it had to be nine maybe even ten inches long and fairly thick. Circumcised, it was ramrod straight and was pointed directly up at the ceiling. But what made it stand out was it's appearance. The skin colour of this monstrosity seemed to be a translucent alabaster white except that it was scored with red veins, which pulsated with blood that coursed up to the very end of his shaft. The head was obscenely long but not bulbous. No wonder the nurse looked in awe of it. It genuinely looked to have been forged from steel or in this case carved out of marble.

The nurse took as much of it down her throat as she could, working her hand up and down the rest of his length that she couldn't take in her mouth.

He just sat there, immobile apart from her violent tugging of his huge cock. She closed her mouth around the bell end and sucked hard. He began to moan and then shuddered as if he'd just been given an electric shock. He came and she almost gagged before she pulled off him and projectile vomited his seed out onto the floor. I couldn't believe it. I heard her say how foul it was as she hawked up the last bit. The camera panned to the floor, the shot seemingly seamless. Bloody hell, there was loads of it. His thick, creamy white spunk was splattered everywhere. It was an unbelievable amount. And I was sure there was no way they could have faked it.

That was it for Lauren. She jumped off the sofa dragging me with her. We barely made it into bed before she devoured me, got me hard and then proceeded to fuck me within an inch of my life. I had never seen her as worked up as this before.

Later she woke me up in the middle of the night and proceeded to give me a blowjob. When I was hard enough she mounted me cowgirl and rode me to another tumultuous climax. Now THAT was a first!

In the morning she fucked me again, three times. Now this was simply scary. I had to know why she was so worked up. We were cuddling in our post orgasmic bliss when I broached the subject.

"Obviously I'm not complaining but just what got you so revved up last night and this morning? We've watched porn before but you've never reacted quite like that afterwards."

She turned her head to look at me. "I don't know really. Maybe it was just the mood I was in. It's been a long week and we've been really busy at work and what with the wine and then the gin and everything else ..."

Her voice trailed off and she seemed lost in her thoughts. Her hand slid down my body to reach for my cock. I stopped her.

"You'll have to wait a bit longer sweetheart. You've milked me dry for the time being. Now ... answer my question."

"Okay ... I don't know really. When we've watched porn before it was okay. It turned me on a little bit but it was almost boring, even the lesbian stuff. You know. Seen one, seen them all. But this time it seemed different. I think maybe it was because of the wrongness of it all. You know, seeing really old men fucking very young girls. It doesn't seem right, almost like it should be illegal and that made it highly charged and I guess ... erotic."

"I see," I answered sagely, nodding my head thoughtfully. "So what you're saying is that you get a buzz out of seeing old men performing sexual acts with young women."

She nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, I suppose I do." She sat up, turned to look at me and pulled a face. "My god, you don't think there's something wrong with me, do you?"

"No, of course not. It's natural for people to have fantasies about sex. It's how we act on them that defines if we're perverted or not."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Fantasies are just that if you don't act on them. They remain a fantasy. It's something you think you would like to do but will never, ever go through with. But once you begin to make them real, you know, actually do the things that you've only so far watched on video; if you start living out your fantasy then maybe you have crossed that line and maybe, depending on what it is, you are a pervert."

"Oh, I see," she replied. I wasn't sure she did. "So, do you have a fantasy? What turns you on then?"

I breathed in deeply as I considered the question. "I suppose it's lesbians," I eventually replied. "It's hot seeing two attractive women kissing and playing with each other."

"Typical man," Lauren snorted derisively, "and I suppose they always have to be beautiful."

"Well of course they do. After all - it is just a fantasy!"

Wedding No 2

A mere three weeks later we were at another mass family wedding as yet another cousin was getting hitched. This one was slightly different as firstly it was a lesbian wedding and secondly the wedding ceremony was for immediate close family only, so being a second cousin our invite was just for the night do.

The venue this time was a nightclub, which was open to the general public although there was a private function room for the use of the wedding party guests only.

We'd been told to dress very informally and as it had been a hot day and promised to be a hot and sweaty night we both dressed appropriately.

For Lauren this meant a halter top which left her arms bare and the skimpiest skirt I think I'd ever seen her wear. It barely covered her ass. When I questioned her about it she said she was wearing it as a dare from one of my sisters.

"I think you've been set up," I laughed when she told me that. Whilst I will match her dares, my sisters won't. A fact that became stunningly obvious when they walked into the club in skirts that came down to their knees!

"Told you," I said as I pointed out the arrival of my sisters to Lauren. She just laughed and went over to berate then for their lack of adventure.

It was a good night. The nightclub actually sold decent beer for a change and I certainly sampled more than my fair share. Lauren was in full flirt mode, egged on by my sisters who like Lauren were all pretty much wasted.

As I said earlier this was a lesbian wedding and so there were a number of women there who looked decidedly butch and some who were much more feminine. I think the stereotypical term for the latter is lipstick lesbians.

Now before you start on me for my poor choice of words let me tell you that I have absolutely no issues with homosexuality and have friends and acquaintances of both sexes who are gay. To each their own is my motto.

Anyway Lauren was dancing with a group of young women and judging by the way she was shaking her stuff about all over the place she was really enjoying the music. As I watched her I suddenly became aware that one of my sisters had sidled up to stand next to me.

"Lauren looks hot tonight," she said with a smile.

"Was it you that set her up then sis?" I asked.

"I can neither confirm nor deny," was her answer. "That skirt sure is short though," she added.

I looked across at Lauren. My sister was right. As my girlfriend twirled and shimmied around the dance floor, what little bit of fabric that made up her skirt was barely covering anything. A fact that hadn't gone unnoticed by other people.

As my sister moved away I grabbed my mobile phone out of my pocket and put it onto video mode. The dance floor was fairly crowded so Lauren flitted in and out of view as the crowd ebbed and flowed around her. As I filmed I could see she had bent over slightly and was grinding her hips in time to the music but I was slightly shocked when I saw that a girl alongside Lauren had moved very close and lifted her skirt up thus exposing her pink panties. It also looked like Lauren had her hand on the girls breast. But what intrigued me more was the appearance into the shot of a hand. A man's hand.

I couldn't see who it was attached to but as the crowd around Lauren parted momentarily I had clear view of the hand on her ass. I watched as it closed around one of her delightfully round ass cheeks and gave it a good squeeze. There was no response from Lauren. She seemed totally oblivious to the current proceedings.

The crowd closed around them but a few seconds later cleared again. I was mesmerised as I saw that the hand now seemed to be working it's way down the crack between Lauren's ass cheeks. Again random groper and Lauren flicked in and out of view as the crowd gyrated around them but when they did I could see he was struggling to maintain contact due to the way she was shaking her butt. But he did seem to be most persistent.

My heart was pounding painfully in my chest as the hand slipped ever lower until it seemed to disappear between her legs. Even though she was still dancing I was sure that her stance seemed a little bit wider than before.

And then it was over. A matter of seconds only. The music segued into another track and Lauren stood up straight and continued dancing as if nothing had happened. Had I really just witnessed all of that or was it just my imagination? I glanced up to see who the man was but it was an impossible task.

With trembling fingers I switched off the video feature on my mobile phone and went back into the quiet room to review the evidence.

I replayed the video, pausing it when I reached the part where the man's hand came into shot. I watched as he fondled and groped Lauren's ass and when his hand slid into the gap between her legs my cock became rock hard. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and berated myself for thinking like a pervert. I zoomed in to see if I could see any distinguishing characteristics that would help me identify random man.

And there they were. It was his right hand and he had a signet ring on his third finger and a small ring on his pinky. Surely that would make him unique.

Acting on impulse I brought up the video of the first wedding. Fast forwarding to the spot where the man's hand appeared I paused it. I zoomed in. It was a man's right hand and there they were. A signet ring on the third finger and a smaller ring on his pinky. Gotcha!

Now all I had to do was walk around the function room and nightclub looking at men's right hands.

Stupid? You betcha.

Did I do it? Of course I did. Well, I fully intended to.

I got lucky. I decided that before I set off on my quest to find the mystery random man I should avail myself of another pint of the club's excellent beer. As I approached the bar there was an old man just turning away clutching a glass of beer in his right hand. My eyes were drawn immediately. And there they were. The signet ring on his third finger and the smaller ring on his pinky.

For some reason my legs turned to jelly but I recovered enough to order my pint and then turned to see where he had gone. He was just sitting down on a bench seat near the door into the nightclub so I lolled back against the bar and taking a sip of my beer, began to evaluate the man who had decided to grope my girlfriend.

To start with, he was old. Possibly in his late sixties but more probably early to mid seventies. He was gaunt and most definitely ugly with that pallor that only thin, old men seem to have. But he was dressed reasonably well and although his clothes appeared old and worn they must have been a decent quality when they were new. He was almost bald except for a few strands that had been carefully plastered across his pate to give the appearance that he still had hair. Is that the sign of a vain man?

But who was he? I spotted my mother across the other side of the room and made my way over to her. If anyone would know it would be her. She seemed to have an encyclopedic memory when it came to family matters.

"Who's that?" I asked nodding in the direction of the man, "do you know him?"

"Oh him, that's Uncle Len. He's your father's, uncle's second cousin."

I was amazed. "How do you know that!" I exclaimed.

"Don't know," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders, "but we used to call him Father Goose." She paused seeing that I was confused. "You know, after the Cary Grant and Leslie Caron film; Father Goose."

"So he's a priest?" I said. I had no idea what film my mother was talking about.

"No silly," she laughed, "he's not a priest. Uncle Len got the nickname because he likes to goose women. Someone decided to call him Uncle Goose but somehow it became Father Goose. Do you see now?"

"Yeah," I nodded but I didn't really. "But what's goosing women? I've never heard of that expression before."

"Really, you've never heard of goosing?"

I shook my head.

"I think it's what you call groping. It's when someone, usually a man" ... she rolled her eyes as she said that ... "grabs a woman's backside and squeezes or pinches it. And sometimes it's worse than that. Sometimes they try and stick their hand up your skirt!" She had a strange look on her face when she said that last bit.

"So did Uncle Len try and goose you then mum?" I asked tentatively.

"Oh yes, on more than one occasion." I admit I was surprised at mum's candour. "I just became very adept at avoiding him." She looked at me sideways. "I never turned my back on him!"

We both turned to look at him. "Why the interest?" Mum finally asked.

"No reason. It's just that I've seen him at both weddings now and wondered who he was."

Leaving my mother I went back into the nightclub to find Lauren looking for me.

"Buy a lonely girl a drink," she pouted.

I smiled. "Sure why not, just don't let my girlfriend see you with me, she might get jealous." She laughed and punched me playfully on the arm. We walked back into the private room hand in hand and up to the bar.

As we waited for the drinks to be served I managed to turn around slightly so I could see Uncle Len. He was still there and his eyes were locked firmly onto Lauren's body. Who was I kidding, they were locked firmly onto her butt.

I smiled to myself as another stupid thought came rushing into my head. We got our drinks and turned away from the bar.

"Let's go sit down over there," I said to Lauren. I led her over to sit down near Uncle Len. He looked like his eyes were going to explode out of his head when Lauren sat down. Her already very short skirt barely covered anything when she sat down and crossed her legs. He wiped his hand across his mouth. I figured he must have been drooling at the sight of so much exposed shapely flesh so close to him.

We sipped at our drinks for a while, chatting inanely and looking idly around the bar before I decided to move on to the next part of my stupid idea. I turned to face Uncle Len.

"Excuse me," I said addressing him. He looked up at me hurriedly, licking his lips. I could see he was nervous. He must have thought I was about to berate him from ogling my girlfriend's legs. "Aren't you Uncle Len?"

He looked relieved. "Erm ... yes," he replied hesitantly, "I am ... but who are you?"

"I'm Matt, Matt Stephens. I'm the son of ..."

"... Maggie Stephens," he interrupted. He had a strange look in his eyes when he blurted that out.

"And this is my girlfriend Lauren." I added.

His eyes moved quickly away from me to her and travelled the full length of her body, from her face down to her thighs. It took him so long it was almost uncomfortable. "Very nice, pleased to meet you," he rasped as he reached out a hand to shake Lauren's. "You've got yourself a looker there Matt," he added, his eyes still firmly locked onto her thighs.

"Yes I think so too," I replied gazing into Lauren's eyes. She had a questioning look in them that said; what the fuck are we doing sitting here!

"Can I get you another pint Uncle?" I asked, ignoring Lauren's stare as I stood up.

"I'd prefer a whisky, if that's all right with you?"

Cheeky bugger. "Sure, no problem. Lauren, do you want another?" She declined with the shake of her head. I walked over to the bar and waited to be served. I let a few people get served before me because I didn't want to return too quickly. I wanted to see what Uncle Len might do now that he was sitting next to the beneficiary of his lewd groping plus I was also interested in how Lauren would react.

I didn't have to wait long. I think it took him all of thirty seconds before he scooted the short distance across the bench seat to sit alongside her. He was clearly talking to her whilst looking longingly at her legs and in particular her thighs. And by the way she tried to pull down the hem of her skirt he had probably indicated in a round about way that he could see her pink panties. And then he put his hand on her knee. She removed it but he put it back and gave her leg a squeeze. She was politely telling him no and he was obviously ignoring her.

I turned away although I could still see them out the corner of my eye. I knew he was going to look over to see if I was watching them. I wasn't disappointed. He took a quick look and satisfied that I was completely engrossed in my attempt to get served put his hand back on her knee and moved it up along her thigh.

I admit I was surprised that Lauren didn't seem to be making much of an effort to stop him at first. He copped a good feel of her shapely leg before she put her hand over his to stop him. He grinned into her face as Lauren disengaged herself from his wandering hand and shuffled away from him just as I turned and went back to the table with our drinks. She looked a little flustered, whilst Uncle Len looked pleased.

"Cheers Matt," he said as he raised his glass in a toast. "Here's to you and Lauren." He shot her a look of pure hunger.