All You Have to Do is Ask

Well, I'm less busy now, so I thought I'd take time out to answer a question.

"What is the oldest man you've ever fucked?" -Sammy

I could say that this was a lot like the "longest cock" question, since I'm not in the habit of taking surveys beforehand, but I'm pretty sure I know this one. And there's a story attached, so I'll tell it.

Until my dad went into business for himself a few years ago (come to think of it, more than a few, but a few is close enough) he was a businessman, suit, tie, the whole nine yards. And he would occasionally have to ask business associates to dinner or over for a meeting or what have you. Most of the time the kids would put in an appearance, nicely clothed and clean, say, "Hello Mr. So-in-so," and then be hurried upstairs and told to stay there. Usually that was no big problem, because we could amuse ourselves, we'd get to order a pizza and eat it upstairs, and business meetings and dinners were boring anyway. Once Mari got old enough to be considered a young adult, she sometimes had to join my parents at the table, and she always told us it was really boring.

But my dad's boss was sort of a family friend more than a boss, and he would come over for dinner more often, and he knew all of us by name and we called him Uncle Harv even though we all knew he wasn't our uncle. He liked being called Uncle Harv, and he liked spending time with our family. He had no kids and his wife had died some years ago, so he was pretty much alone in the world, and my dad was his favorite worker, so he just gravitated toward us.

He always brought the girls candy and my brother some small toy or game or something like that. When I got old enough to notice, I realized that he wasn't just enjoying spending time with the family, he liked spending time with the girls in particular. I remember the first time I sat on his lap and realized he had a little wood in his trousers, and when I bumped my butt against it, he grinned and it stiffened. He liked to see outfits I'd gotten, and I'd give him fashion shows. I mean, it must have been obvious to my parents too, but it never was creepy, just a little naughty. I have to confess that I enjoyed teasing Harv a little too, making him uncomfortable without really letting on that I knew I was making him uncomfortable.

Around the time Sheri was "popped" by Dad, I noticed that Uncle Harv was spending all of his time paying attention to her. Whenever he'd come over, usually about once or twice a month (to get a home-cooked meal, my mom always told him) he spent all of his time paying attention to her, looking at her clothes, talking with her (well, not all of his time, but all the time he spent with the girls). I admit, I was jealous, and for a while I blamed my sister, but finally when we had a fight and the whole thing came out, I found out why. He and Sheri had started fucking.

My mom and dad knew, of course; he even asked their permission after the first time. Sheri had noticed that Harv seemed interested in her, just like I had, but unlike me, she didn't just want to tease. She took him into the bathroom the first time she realized she was making him uncomfortable and blew him. This had been several years before at least, after she'd had her first time with the babysitter boy. Harv made her promise not to tell anyone, and for a while he resisted the temptation to let her do anything with him again, which was probably why he spent more time with me, because he figured I was safer. Being the youngest girl, I just figured it was my due.

Eventually though, he let her talk him into going to the bathroom and getting off again, and so it became a semi-regular thing; Uncle Harv would come over, see Sheri, get tremendously worked up, and have to excuse himself to the bathroom for a few minutes. He always felt pretty guilty about it, so he kept spending time with me, but it got to the point where even with me, he was having to get up and go to the bathroom again.

And then Sheri got properly done, and she was ready to go. He went to the bathroom, expecting the usual (after all, he didn't know that she'd been with Dad) and instead she was naked and dripping and begging him to satisfy her. Well, being a pedo, and never having had a little girl before, he couldn't resist, but when it took him a fairly long time to emerge from the bathroom and he came out with a naked Sheri right into my father's face, he confessed the whole thing, expecting that my father would kick him out or worse.

My dad wasn't pleased, but once the surprise wore off and he got Harv to shut up for a moment, he told Harv that he trusted that Harv would be a gentleman with his daughter, and that she had to get it somewhere. Harv must have thought he'd died and gone to heaven. So after that, they didn't need to sneak to the bathroom any more, they could go to the rumpus room whenever they wanted. Mari knew, of course, but Mom and Dad felt it would be best if me and Mike didn't get nosy, because we probably would have wanted to watch and I don't think they were ready to explain that to Harv. So Uncle Harv and my sister were fucking regularly. She told me later that he wasn't much in the sack but he was all she had so she took it.

Well after I found out I still was jealous, but differently. So any time Harv was around, I would flaunt myself. I wore ridiculous clothes, rubbed against him, tried to drive him crazy. I knew I couldn't have him yet, but I wanted him to be sorry he'd picked Sheri. What can I say, I was young and stupid.

Fast forward a few years. I was 13 or so, after my first time with a guy outside the family. Sheri had moved on to other things, and Harv was less interested in her now anyway, because she had grown too old and now looked like a young woman. He paid a lot more attention to me, but I had gotten over my jealousy, so I wasn't really trying to make Harv happy.

And then the part that all this is leading up to (I really am going to answer the question, I promise). One night, Uncle Harv brought over a client. The rest of the kids were out somewhere, my Mom had made dinner, and I figured that I would get to say hello to whomever it was and then go upstairs and be bored alone. The client was an old guy, probably close to 70. He wasn't in bad shape, but he was gray and balding and just looked older. His name wasn't Leonard, but it had that feel to it, so Leonard Post he will be. "Hello Mr. Post, welcome to our home," I said. He nodded his head at me, then looked harder at me. I do tend to have that effect on people. He smiled a little too wide, and then my mother ushered me upstairs.

I was reading in my bed with only my underwear on when my dad came in. "Honey, Mr. Post wants you to come down," he said. I wondered why, but guessed that Mr. Post was creepy. I didn't like him much. But I also figured that, boredom or not, this was my chance to be a young adult, and maybe I'd get something special. I was always ready to try to prove how mature I was. So I slipped my dress back on and went downstairs.

Mr. Post was creepy. He just kept staring at me all through desert, while we were all sitting in the living room. When I crossed my legs he smiled a little, but he just looked at me. I felt a little weird.

Everyone else noticed that Mr. Post was staring at me. My mom frowned. My Dad looked at Uncle Harv, who looked at Mr. Post. Then Harv began talking about what a great client Mr. Post was, and how he'd known him for years, and all that. Dad agreed, I think more to make conversation.

But Harv finally worked his way around to the thing he really didn't want to talk about. Mr. Post, he said, was interested in the same things Harv was, and since Dad had been so understanding about one of his daughters... He trailed off. I knew what was going on now. I mean, I had guessed what was on Mr. Post's mind from the start, but now it seemed obvious.

Dad looked pissed, and he took Harv and they went outside. I could hear mumbling through the door. My mom moved a little closer to me, but Mr. Post didn't seem to care. He just kept looking me over. And at a certain point, it started to feel less weird. I started to feel very adult, because I was turning this guy on and everyone was talking about me. So I started talking to Mr. Post. He told me to call him Leonard. The conversation wasn't about anything much, just general topics. I asked him if he had any kids. He said he had two grown daughters, but neither of them were a pretty as me. I blushed at that.

My mother eventually got up and went outside too, I guess because she felt awkward. It wasn't like her sitting there was stopping Leonard from talking to me. And as we talked, he told me about when his daughters had been young, as young as me, and how he had loved them very much. I guess either he had wanted to fuck them or he had fucked them, but now they were too old for him.

I know this sounds like kiddy prostitution or abuse, but my parents never wanted it to happen. They were out there arguing with Harv about this, and eventually I just got up and went and sat on Leonard's lap. He had a stiff cock in his pants, larger than I expected. When I came into contact with it, it jumped and he smiled wide again. And then the natural thing seemed to be to take his hand and put in in my lap.

Harv and my parents came back in to find me and Leonard kissing. We stopped briefly to look at them. I just smiled. Harv looked very pleased. My father looked about ready to kill someone. My mom didn't look surprised, but she didn't look happy either. "If you don't mind, the child and I would like a little privacy," said Leonard with a smile. I can remember exactly how he said it. It was polite but firm, like he had expected nothing else. I don't know why, but it was incredibly arousing too. I nodded, then turned back and began kissing Leonard again.

Later I found out that it was my mother who convinced my father to let it alone. I think she knew what I was feeling, and she didn't want to cause a fuss. I know, it sounds odd saying that she didn't want to cause a fuss when a 70 year old man was about to fuck her 13 year old daughter in her living room, but with my mother, it's just like that. Harv was pleased as punch, although I think he would have liked to stay and watch. My dad was jealous and angry. He didn't think it was a good idea. He never really forgave Uncle Harv for bringing this guy over, even though he knew it would make a client happy and probably make him a lot of money. Again, it sounds like prostitution, but really I just wanted to fuck him. He seduced me, in a strange way, and the circumstances seduced me a little too. I felt like I was helping my father and his boss and being adult. Looking back, it seems a little silly, but that's how I felt.

We were alone in the living room, just slowly kissing. He tasted like chocolate from desert. I don't think he had any idea that I was as experienced as I was, because he was moving so slowly, just kissing and occasionally stroking his hand up my thigh. After a while, he picked me up (I wasn't small, but not as large as I am now) and laid me back on the couch and just stood and looked at me. Come to think of it, it was probably the look that got me. He seemed like he only had eyes for me, and when I was younger I was a sucker for that kind of thing. Now I understand that it was just lust, but lust is still sexy.

I just lay there and let him look, and then let him slowly unbutton my dress and spread it wide. It was a frock with buttons all the way down, so you could just spread it open like a coat. Usually I didn't unbutton it all the way, but I let him do it. I think he was a little surprised that I wasn't shy about being naked, even slipping my arms out of the sleeves to be more naked for him. I could see his cock rock hard jutting out of his pants, and I confess that I wanted him to hurry up. I was young and impatient and horny. But I knew he was in control, and I got off on being submissive.

He sat me up and took off my bra, then kissed and suckled at my tiny tits, stroking his hands up and down my back, playing with my hair. When he slipped his fingers into the back of my panties and cupped my buttocks, I felt a tiny shiver of excitement. And then he asked me if he could lick my no-no. He really said that, used no-no instead of pussy or cunt, words I'd been using along with vagina for years. It made me giggle, it was just so silly and stupid. But he took that for a yes and slipped my panties off and smelled them (really) and then gently spread my legs and gazed at my almost-hairless snatch. I hadn't started shaving yet, because I wanted pubes to prove I was getting older (and to trick older guys into thinking I was older too) but I barely had peach fuzz, and he dove right it and started gently licking.

I felt almost religious, like I was some altar at which he was worshipping. Men who like little girls are like that. They want to worship. His tongue wasn't as gentle as his hands, but I didn't care, and I had a nice slow and passionate O, which he lapped up like warm milk and couldn't get enough. But finally I think his lower brain must have been taking over, because he was getting more urgent, and he eventually stood and looked down at me again. "You remind me of my daughters, but you're so much more beautiful," he said, almost to himself. Well that melted me. I would have let him spank me at that point, or tie me up. I was putty. Fortunately he didn't want to do that, or if he did he didn't do it.

He asked me if I wanted to touch his pee-pee, and that made me giggle again because he was just being ridiculous. "I'm not a baby," I said with as much adult-ness as I could muster. "It's called a penis, but I like to call it a cock." He smiled. "And I want to suck it, not just touch it," I said. Sheri's influence coming through, there.

Well his cock was definitely not in need of Viagra, or he'd taken some before. It was large, much larger than my brother or the other boys I'd been with. Not as big as my dad's, but possibly thicker. He just dropped his pants and let it out. It was leaking precum. I sat on the couch and licked and sucked until he was crying out. But he didn't cum. His balls seemed to swell up in my hands, and the head of his circumcised prick got almost purple. Finally he gently shooed me away.

"You're not a virgin?"

"I'm not a baby."

"Then you know what I'm about to do."

I remember that exchange too, because I did. He said it almost like it was just business, and in a weird way the impersonal tone was more arousing than if he'd claimed to love me. I just nodded. "What's your favorite position?" he wanted to know. I haven't had too many guys ask me that, actually. It was sort of like that Tenacious D song. I told him I wanted him on top of me, and he smiled again. Then he got on his knees in front of me, sitting on the couch, and leaned me back and took my legs and spread them.

When he entered me the first time I came. I won't lie, it wasn't the best orgasm I've ever had. But he stretched me wide, and he seemed to know that I didn't need any gentle strokes. He plunged into me, bottomed out on the first stroke. The electricity was incredible. I cried out and wrapped my legs around his waist. He just ground into me, without thrusting. I think I would have cum harder if he had thrust, but the grinding stimulated me nicely. "My cock likes it inside you, can you tell?" he said to me. "He's getting bigger." I don't think it was really true; I was probably tightening down on him. But whatever.

When I looked past his shoulder I saw my parents and Uncle Harv standing in the door to the dining room. My father looked mad but didn't look homicidal. Harv looked positively beet-red. My mother had a small smile on her face. It wasn't a happy smile, just a smile.

Leonard began thrusting finally and I lost control and came again. It was softer and longer, and he probably didn't notice. I asked him to kiss me and he did, and we kissed and fucked for a minute. Then he broke away and told me he knew I wanted his seed in my belly. I don't think he actually knew that, but he wanted to cum inside me and he wanted me to want it. I did want it, so it was fortunate that there was no reason not to.

And then he came, finally, and I'm glad I let him cum inside me because it was like a firehose. He must have been blueballing bad. He just pumped and pumped and pumped. I came again when the splashes on my womb got to be too much. And he never stopped thrusting. By the time he finally spent all he had, my inner thighs and pussy and belly were coated in jizm.

He seemed like he just wanted to lie there, still inside me, and he lay there for a moment or two, then gave me a big kiss and slipped out of me. I looked down and there was a puddle on the floor and spunk just draining out of my wide-open cunt. I just wanted to lie there too, so I didn't do anything until finally my Daddy picked me up in his arms and took me up to bed.

So that was the oldest guy I've ever fucked. The aftermath was unpleasant; Dad was pissed at Uncle Harv, and a little at Mom, and he didn't want to be with me for a few days, like he was afraid I was going to dirty him somehow. Mom told him he was being childish, that he'd never reacted like this before, and eventually he got over most of it. The first time he made love to me after that was epic. It was like he wanted to prove that he was the better man, mark his territory, that kind of thing. He actually kept me home from school. I had woken up in the morning to find Dad sitting on my bed watching me sleep, stroking his cock idly. Once I was awake he told me that he was sorry he'd been a jerk, and would I forgive him. Of course I forgave him, and he climbed under the covers with me and got between my legs and slipped into me without saying a word. When Mom came to tell me that I was going to be late, Dad just looked at her, and she said she'd call school and let them know.

And then Daddy and I stayed in bed most of the day. After he came inside me the first time, we cuddled, and he told me that he would never let anything like that happen again. I told him I didn't mind, that he hadn't let it happen, that I had wanted to. I even told him that I had wanted to fuck Uncle Harv when I was younger too. He kissed me, and we kissed, and then it was like a miracle because he was up again, pulled me on top of him, and we made love that way, with me riding. I came three times before he painted my foyer again, and then I stayed lying on his chest, and we sort of dozed for a while. Mom brought up lunch and woke us up, and we ate in bed, naked. Then I wanted desert, and Dad seemed bound and determined, so after some oral action from his daughter he was ready to go again. I was expecting this time to be taken from behind, but he laid me down on the bed and just kissed and stroked me for a long time, until I was writhing, then he got between my legs and took me a third time missionary. And I just came over and over, lost track of time, and Dad eventually seemed like he was wearing out and was just trying to cum once more for his daughter. Finally I told him to take me from behind, because he gets more pleasure that way, and he kissed me and said what a terrific girl I was, and then helped me to my hands and knees and rutted me from behind until finally he gasped and yelled that he was cumming. After that ordeal I knew he wasn't going anywhere, so we lazed out the afternoon in bed, dozing and cuddling.

After that, things were back to normal. And then Mr. Post died, and Harv confessed that he suspected that Mr. Post had only come looking for me because he knew he was dying. So Dad sort of moved on from that. We didn't go to the funeral, but I did feel a little weird because I imagined that I was the last person to have sex with him before he died, and I'd never fucked anyone who was now dead. The next time Harv came over I told Dad that I was going to the basement with Uncle Harv, and I finally got over my jealousy by letting Dad's boss feel me up hurriedly and then fuck me up against a wall. Sheri was right, he wasn't much. I only came once, and he only lasted a few minutes.

About a year after that, Uncle Harv died too, in a car accident. We went to that funeral. And Dad left business shortly thereafter. So that was a very long answer to a very short question, but hopefully you enjoyed it. Keep them coming at lexinaughtygirly(AT)gmail.com so I can keep telling long-winded stories.