After dinner I helped Mr. Jenkins settle Mrs. Jenkins in her recliner in the living room.

“Yes, that’s right, my love,” he said as we eased her off her walker, “The old girl likes to watch her Wheel before bedtime. Don’t ya sweets?” It was seriously lovely the way he cared for her.

“You two are the sweetest things. Mr. Jenkins, you sit down and watch with Mrs. Jenkins and I’ll clean up.”

“Hey, well that sounds like a deal, little darlin’! Lemme just slip back in and grab my whiskey.”

“No no. You sit down, I’ll bring it in for you…” but as I spoke he kept walking with me, kind of turning me as we went through the kitchen door. When we got in there he twirled me and pressed me up against the wall.

“I been thinking about those thighs of yours all through dinner.”

He had reached over under the table a few times and squeezed my leg. It was just a little square four person table, and one time he put his hand on my knee and slowly slid it up. He gave little pats to the inside of my thigh, so like I’d spread my legs, I guess, and he did it really quick and kind of hard with his long fingers so it stung a little bit, but then he’d rub the spot softly and make it hot and give it a gentle squeeze as he’d move his hand up further, and SLAP, he’d do it again and rub and then lightly press, until he pretty much got where my thigh stopped and my pussy just sat behind my volleyball shorts. He left his long fingers there.

I keep saying long fingers. They weren’t long, really. They were long for his body, ’cause as I said he was kind of a smaller man, but they were thick, and the joints were all swole and knobby from arthritis, and they were strong from a whole life of farming. But there was a weird thing with his right hand. I guess he got it mangled at some point in some equipment. So his pointer finger was sort of twisted and maybe it had been stretched because it did look weirdly bigger and longer than the rest. Then the top third of his middle finger just above the knuckle had got tore right off. You can’t avoid using your middle finger, so on that one there was about a half inch knob that had developed into kind of a calloused ball. The whole thing looked like a claw a little bit, the joints and fingers had all adapted differently than a normal hand so it was like each finger was a custom made tool. He worked for decades with that deformed hand which made it more deformed by adapting to all the stuff he had to grab and lift and carry and throw. You might notice things like that about old men but you never look closely. Not until you become really familiar with it, like I did.

He was talking to Mrs. Jenkins, telling her a story Floyd Crawley had told him about fishing, and he was leaning way forward over the table like you do if you’re telling a really exciting story, and so he was making it exciting for her, even though it was just a fishing story, and even though he was really leaning way over the table because he had his arm stretched out and his hand between my legs. I could see Mrs. Jenkins was enjoying the story because her half smile was crooked up and her eyes twinkled, and Mr. Jenkins was kinda breathless with his excited telling and a little red faced and his nostrils were flared and I could see all this black hair in his nose and with his head over the table between us and I could see there was a good patch of long black hairs in his ear, too. The thick, crooked veins on his neck and his red sweaty forehead throbbed with the intensity of his storytelling and he laughed in between some of the lines he was telling and all the while he was moving those two weird fingers up and down my pussy outside my shorts.

It was like there were two me’s there–the one who made dinner and enjoyed seeing these dear old neighbors chat and joke, and then there was the me whose pussy was getting hot and wet as two strong and strange fingers rubbed and jabbed in hard patterns over my pussy lips through the fabric of my damp shorts. Honestly, I never had to think or decide which one was me. I was just so relaxed and enjoying both things, I just settled easy with both, and genuinely giggled with Mrs. Jenkins at Mr. Jenkins making faces describing Floyd trying to reel in a fish, and I genuinely moaned underneath and humped back and ground down on his nubby fingers –I even lifted my ass once so he could push his hand under a little bit more and I sat down hard and rocked and rode on those twitching, stubby claws.The lycra of my volleyball shorts between my pussy and his hand was soaking wet.

As he finished the story, he naturally pulled his hand back to stand up and deliver the punchline with a gesture of his hands, and as Mrs. Jenkins bent over kind of silently giggling, he looked over at me and brought his fingers to his nose, that middle knob so wet it looked like he’d dipped it in syrup, smiling and laughing, and he inhaled my odor, and I was laughing too, at the story, but also kind of at how good that felt and how totally Sahabet crazy it was that he did that right there and he sucked the knob clean and was now just staring me down. This old man had game, and I guessed just really big balls to play like that, and it was weirdly hilarious.

But dinner continued at a little more normal after that, and by the time we’d moved Mrs. Jenkins to the living room it was like I’d almost forgot the whole thing, and so I was again surprised when he came on like this in the kitchen.

We’re about the same height, I guess. I’m 5’9″ and maybe he’s a little bit shorter, one of those old farmers who’s tough and wiry and seems bigger, for as little as he actually is, and now he had me pinned to the wall and I was not quite standing straight up as he whirled me so fast and put my back against the wall and I slid down a bit. He was right up against me, one leg between mine, his knee pressed up against my pelvis kind of holding me up, and he was just staring me right in the eyes. I could smell the whiskey on his breath so much, and though he was speaking low he was kind of spitting a little bit, and sweet old Mr. Jenkins had just kind of transformed, even though all his wrinkles and scars and gray beard were the same, he was saying in a really fast and intense way how beautiful I was and how he bet my pussy hair was as blonde as the hair on my head, which he had in his left hand, my pony tail kind of wrapped around it and he pulled, saying how I needed to show him my pussy quick and to do as he said because otherwise he’d have to fuck me right there with his wife in the other room.

I seriously had to try to keep from laughing again–not at him, not because it was ridiculous, which of course it kind of was, but because the situation was just so fucking crazy, I swear to God! If my girlfriends could see this… I thought, when I tell Michelle tomorrow… and for the first time Matthew came into my mind.

Matthew is my boyfriend. We’re kind of the king and queen of our high school. In fact we were Homecoming King and Queen and we’d probably be Prom King and Queen in the spring because we were like the perfect couple together, He made me feel so hot!

I was the homecoming queen the year before, too, with Bucky Hayes, who wasn’t my boyfriend, but we were elected at the dance, and afterwards he said he had to give me a ride home because as a senior he couldn’t let his junior homecoming queen go home without a proper ride. I didn’t want to. I actually already really liked Matthew, but… well I don’t want to talk about that right now. Not all high school memories are good ones.

Anyways, Matthew and I hooked up soon after. And we were the same age, born on the exact same day, so that when we turned 18 at the beginning of senior year, I considered that my gift to us, the giving of my true virginity, my love virginity, fucking my football captain like the adults we were now on the couch in the waiting room of the dentist office which he cleaned at nights and on the weekends.

And now I thought of him there, because he was working, while Mr. Jenkins was pulling my shorts down and I felt suddenly so sad and guilty, but also kind of hot, because I always got hot when I thought of Matthew as he was so big and ripped, but also because it made this thing with Mr. Jenkins kind of sexy, thinking that I, my stud’s beauty queen, was getting ravaged by an old freak while he was absent mindedly vacuuming around dental chairs.

Mr. Jenkins was on his knees now and he had his hand on my belly under my t-shirt pushing me back against the wall, and he had my shorts down and he was face to face with my pussy. My pussy that belonged to my King and Captain, poor Matthew, and the old coots spit and drool was right up on my bare pussy as he marveled, “Goddamn girl, I heard y’all shaved your quim bald but I ain’t never seen it, That’s as smooth as your sweet ass!”

His other hand was behind me caressing my ass and he said, “And my God girl, this ass of yours is so firm and big, baby! How’s that virgin ass taste?” He started laughing with his mouth against my pussy which was open to him, my lips flowered out and wet, just like that with all this crazy fooling around and he licked a little and suddenly I just pushed down on his shoulders, pushing myself up, and slid aside and finally found the sense to tell Mr. Jenkins to cool it.

“Mr. Jenkins, please! Now I understand, I’ve had a wonderful time too tonight. You really turned this poor little country girl on. And I want to help you and Mrs. Jenkins,” he head, which he had in his left hand, my pony tail kind of wrapped around it and he pulled, saying how I needed to show him my pussy quick and to do as he said because otherwise he’d have to fuck me right there with his wife in the other room.

I seriously had to try to keep from laughing again–not at him, not because it was ridiculous, which of course it kind of was, but because the situation was just so fucking Sahabet Giriş crazy, I swear to God! If my girlfriends could see this… I thought, when I tell Michelle tomorrow… and for the first time Matthew came into my mind.

Matthew is my boyfriend. We’re kind of the king and queen of our high school. In fact we were Homecoming King and Queen and we’d probably be Prom King and Queen in the spring because we were like the perfect couple together, He made me feel so hot!

I was the homecoming queen the year before, too, with Bucky Hayes, who wasn’t my boyfriend, but we were elected at the dance, and afterwards he said he had to give me a ride home because as a senior he couldn’t let his junior homecoming queen go home without a proper ride. I didn’t want to. I actually already really liked Matthew, but… well I don’t want to talk about that right now. Not all high school memories are good ones.

Anyways, Matthew and I hooked up soon after. And we were the same age, born on the exact same day, so that when we turned 18 at the beginning of senior year, I considered that my gift to us, the giving of my true virginity, my love virginity, fucking my football captain like the adults we were now on the couch in the waiting room of the dentist office which he cleaned at nights and on the weekends.

And now I thought of him there, because he was working, while Mr. Jenkins was pulling my shorts down and I felt suddenly so sad and guilty, but also kind of hot, because I always got hot when I thought of Matthew as he was so big and ripped, but also because it made this thing with Mr. Jenkins kind of sexy, thinking that I, my stud’s beauty queen, was getting ravaged by an old freak while he was absent mindedly vacuuming around dental chairs.

Mr. Jenkins was on his knees now and he had his hand on my belly under my t-shirt pushing me back against the wall, and he had my shorts down and he was face to face with my pussy. My pussy that belonged to my King and Captain, poor Matthew, and the old coots spit and drool was right up on my bare pussy as he marveled, “Goddamn girl, I heard y’all shaved your quim bald but I ain’t never seen it, That’s as smooth as your sweet ass!”

His other hand was behind me caressing my ass and he said, “And my God girl, this ass of yours is so firm and big, baby! How’s that virgin ass taste?” He started laughing with his mouth against my pussy which was open to him, my lips flowered out and wet, just like that with all this crazy fooling around and he licked a little and suddenly I just pushed down on his shoulders, pushing myself up, and slid aside and finally found the sense to tell Mr. Jenkins to cool it.

“Mr. Jenkins, please! Now I understand, I’ve had a wonderful time too tonight. You really turned this poor little country girl on. And I want to help you and Mrs. Jenkins,” he was sitting back on his heels his hands on his knees like an obedient child, looking up at me all serious and really listening, “but I need you to stop this. There’s a line. You had your fun but we’ve gone too far now. Let me make you some coffee and I’ll clean up in here.”

It was adorable how he took this all in. He didn’t argue at all and he even looked a little sheepish and he stammered a bit, trying to apologize.

“It’s ok Mr. Jenkins, just come on, get up,” I said as I pulled him up by his arm and he got up and sure enough, I was taller, even though I hadn’t realized it, but his head was bent in shame, even his fat bottom lip drooped, “You don’t need to apologize. We’re human beings. We got carried away. You get some tea for Mrs. Jenkins and I’ll put on the coffee.”

He babbled about evil and sin and weakness, but I reassured him as we got some cups together and carried them out and he set down on the couch side next to Mrs. Jenkins chair and put his hand on hers and gave her a loving look. I put their cups down and left them with their Wheel of Fortune and returned to the dishes. Wouldn’t you know it, there was a text from Matthew from just ten minute before, probably when Mr. Jenkins had his tongue in my pussy and it said, “Thinking of you sexy bored out of my mind.”

Like I did with everything, I just put my head to the task at hand and whipped that kitchen back to pretty and didn’t think of my boyfriend, though I never stopped feeling the little buzz in my pussy and I went back out as their show was finishing.

“I was just telling the Mrs… you see Vanna there? Well she’s a beautiful lady, but this show started 40 years ago and she was just a young girl like you, and Jessica, if you ain’t the spittin image of that young Vanna then I don’t know what!”

Mrs. Jenkins was smiling her crooked smile and nodding her head and they both looked very happy with their discovery.

“Well that’s so sweet. I’m sure she was a beautiful young woman because she’s a beautiful older woman now. Just like you Mrs. Jenkins.”

She blushed and smiled more. Mr. Jenkins patted the cushion on the Sahabet Güncel Giriş couch and said I should sit down down for Family Feud.

“I’m sorry guys. I really have to go. I have so much homework, y’know…”

Mr. Jenkins stood up and stepped a little closer and said in a low voice, “Uh Jessica, I don’t want to make the Mrs. feel worried and say nothin’ in front of her, but it can sometimes be a little hard helping her up on to the bed. I worry she’ll fall when I’m sitting her up there and getting her in her nightie. Could you just help with that before you go?”

That sweet old man didn’t want his wife to know how hard it could be on him to take care of her. I spoke up loud and moved over towards Mrs. Jenkins, “Why don’t I help you get Mrs. Jenkins in bed before I go,” and I looked into her sweet eyes, “Would you like that Mrs. Jenkins, a little extra care tonight?” She smiled and nodded. I helped her up to her walker and Mr. Jenkins went in the room and pulled the sheets back and we both helped Mrs. Jenkins set on the bed. He grabbed a nightie from the dresser and pulled off her house dress. Mrs. Jenkins had a black lacy bra on, which I though was pretty cute, whether she chose it or he did, they had sexy minds still! And it was a push up bra and her huge old lady boobies were pressed up and looked pretty, all nice and creamy pale and soft. These two were just too cute.

“Ok Jessica, I’ll hold mother up here and you swing her little legs up on the bed.” I kneeled down and slipped off her slippers and saw she had a beautiful pedicure, her nails nice and trim and crimson red.

As I lifted her legs gently up I said, “I can’t believe your beautiful toes Mrs. Jenkins! Do you go into the nail shop?”

“I do mother’s nails,” Mr. Jenkins said. He was blushing a little and looking down. “I guess that’s kind of funny huh? An old farmer like me doing her nails? But to tell the truth, I done ’em since before we was married.” Mrs. Jenkins looked very proud and pleased. Then Mr. Jenkins looked up at me and said, “I’d love to do your little toes. You can see I’m good at it.”

I caught the look on Mrs. Jenkins face and I swear she had a a kind of sexy grin, if it was even possible she could make one, or if she even caught all he was suggesting. I didn’t respond but I patted Mrs. Jenkins legs and said good night and Mr. Jenkins darted past me and turned the light off. I followed him out of the room and he went right to the couch and sat down and patted the cushion next to him. I put my hands on the back of my hips and turned left and right and kind of wondered what to do. I mean I was sure I should go and do some homework, but Mr. Jenkins was such a cute flirt. Like a teenage boy he sat there and made goony eyes, and I was still tingling with how naughty we’d been.

I went over and sat by him and I said gently but sternly, “I’ll sit with you a while Mr. Jenkins but you’ve got to keep your hands to yourself, and no more kissing, ten minutes.”

I turned to the TV and I knew he was still staring at me and I felt like he was moving closer and I weirdly kind of hoped he was.

He said, “Little girl, I don’t want you to call me Mr. Jenkins no more. You call me Daddy.” I felt like I had to pee, but I knew what that feeling really was. I felt his beard suddenly on my neck and he kind of brushed my skin with it and smelled up under my jaw, running his nose to behind my ear and he rubbed his face there and nibbled and he pulled my hair a little and then pulled it good to turn my mouth to his and we started kissing and we made out on the couch for a while. We just made out, but he did kind of move up over me and humped me while we kissed. After a while he got up and just pulled my hand and I got up with him and he was pulling me toward the other bedroom.

“Ok now, no Mr. Jenkins, I do have to…” He stopped and put his finger to my lips to stop my mouth. “I said you’re to call me Daddy now,” and he pulled me into the room and I just went. We layed down on the bed and started making out again. He was trying to pull off his jeans while we were laying there and I stood up and took off my jersey and shorts and panties. He said, “Good girl,” and he reclined back and kind of lifted a leg and said, “Now pull these off your Daddy.” I pulled the pant legs and they came off and he quickly pushed his underwear down and put that gnarled hand out to my bare hip and I got up on the bed and he pulled me over him and held his cock while I sat down on it. He was as hard as Matthew, this old coot. I rode him and I felt so fucking sexy “cause i knew how appreciative he was to have a hard body 18 year old fucking him at his command. It wasn’t so weird and funny now as I just rode his stiff cock and came so hard a few times and even squirted like crazy when he put that big twisted finger in my butthole and pushed against the pelvic wall where his cock was plunging hard on the other side.

“Uh, oh Daddy. I want you to cum in me old man. Can you still shoot your old man cum?”

“Daddy will come in you little girl and he’s gonna fill you with his seed and make you a teenage mama for him you little slut.”

“Oh god yes Mr. Jenkins. Cum in your little girl’s pussy and give me your babies!”