Right away, I cared what I looked like – whether I was at least presentable. The sunny morning started off cool but the temperature climbed rapidly so I grabbed the most convenient tank top from my dresser drawer. I hadn’t lost any winter weight, not that I really ever do, and it was tight. I wasn’t wearing any makeup and I was sweating a little.
He stood straight and very tall on the other side of the door. “Ms. Howe? I’m Bowie.” His shirt was tight too, a crisp polo, but “tight” looked good on him. Anything would look good on him. He lifted his sunglasses away from his sky-blue eyes and nestled them into his shaggy blond hair.
I took the hand he offered and placed my other one over that, lest he gets away. “Pauline. Polly – call me Polly. You’re the young man who’s staying with us this summer.”
Our little house is very near the ocean and we take people in during the summer. A friend of a friend sent him our way which was a windfall. Normally our lodgers came for a weekend or perhaps a day or two more but Bowie was going to be with us every day from now through August. We gave him a generous discount but we were still able to set the extra money aside toward our retirement, God willing, in fewer than ten years.
My husband, Jerry, handles the finances which is a good thing because I would have let this young hunk stay for free.
“You’re a bit early. I’m not dressed for company,” I explained.
He was very polite and even said that I looked lovely. He was lying, of course. Nineteen-year-old Vikings don’t call very round old women “lovely.” Still, it was a nice thing to say. Jerry hadn’t said that I looked good in ages, not that he looked at me much at all.
I showed him his room, pointed out the little refrigerator and the other things, and gave him a slip of paper with the Wi-Fi password. He had his own half a bathroom but there was only one shower in the house.
“Meals don’t come with the room but I like to cook, as you can tell, so I’ll let you know if I’ve made extra. The TV doesn’t have cable but we have an antenna. We have Netflix. Jerry says to charge extra but it’s already logged in so don’t tell him.”
“Our first secret from your husband – I promise not to tattle,” he said with a fleeting wink and a touch on my back.
The flirt! I almost flirted back.
~~~
Summer was the season for us and for the town. I often picked up some hours at one of the better restaurants in town, tending bar on the weekends or at special events. Their full-time barmaid was twenty-two and skinny, and I’m not. She was slow, and I’m not. She was a good kid, we made a good team, and we split the tips.
My job in the grocery store bakery was almost full-time and the hours were unpredictable. Most of the time I did the cake decorating so I worked during the daytime but sometimes I had to go in very early to start the donuts and other baked goods. The first time that I saw Bowie naked was when I came home from one of those early shifts.
I quietly let myself in at a little after seven, not knowing if the men in the house were awake yet. The bathroom door was open when I tiptoed past, and Bowie was bent at the waist, toweling off. His dimpled derriere and his thighs flexed as he wiped down his calves and feet.
I froze, transfixed, unable to decide where I wanted to look next but I did not want to look away. Men are handsome or good-looking but Bowie was lovely, his muscles rippling just under his smooth skin dotted with goosebumps and dew.
He stood facing the door and I was sure that I was caught but I wasn’t. He had lifted the towel to his face and hair and presented me with a figure that belonged among appreciative art students. His bold manhood swung – swung – playfully as he shook the towel through his hair.
I ran away before he saw me, at least I thought I had, and if he had seen me he couldn’t have known that I was staring. He hadn’t come out into the hall by the time I ducked into my bedroom.
“What are you rushing around for?” My poor heart was already thumping in my chest and Jerry’s question startled me. “You look flushed.”
“I got a little scared, is all.” I told him that I had just seen a big snake.
“That explains it. It must have been a really big one. Out front? I’ll go take a look.” He pulled his jeans over his pajama bottoms and hiked down the hall. I wondered when the last time was that I had seen his penis. There was once a time when he wouldn’t keep it in his pants, and I liked him better that way.
Wrapping my robe around myself after undressing away from the mirror, I went for my turn in the shower. Bowie’s scent lingered as I stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain. I left the door open to allow the steam to escape, I told myself.
I washed the bakery out of my hair first and then borrowed Bowie’s body wash. Letting the water sting my uplifted face, I mulled whether he would have liked me when I was his age, almost forty years ago, the way Jerry liked me.
Nobody had ever called me “fat.” I am, but nobody had said it to my face, not even the bullies back in school. My mother and her friends referred to me as “top-heavy” when I was sixteen or seventeen and I loved the attention that I got from the boys. Jerry liked to play with my tits a lot and I was more than happy to encourage him. My wedding dress was only one deep breath away from oversharing.
Bowie was behind me, I imagined, our soapy bodies sliding against one another. I played with myself because I knew he would want me to and I dropped the luffa at my feet. The shower head in one hand was aimed just so, raining on my knuckles and below and between my fingers. Before long, I was doubled over by a lightning strike, my cunt wetter than water and more slippery than soap.
It had been a while, and that was a really good one.
I covered up and paused by the mirror. I was still pretty, I thought, for my age. Not that pretty, of course – not pretty enough to coax a young man into my shower but maybe enough to be his friend.
~~~
Our lovely lodger quickly became a fixture in my home, although he was rarely there. During the day, he was engaged with our town’s biggest employer’s work-study program. After hours, he made friends with the locals. In the mornings, we laughed about how I kept bumping into him after his shower. He dined with us now and then and some evenings he stayed at home and we visited.
The local girls practically threw themselves at him and he dated some but none of them were very serious or spent the night. He didn’t come across as overly religious or gay, so I let my fantasies continue to play out as they had.
On Bowie’s second weekend with us, my daughter and her daughter with her little girls came for a visit. Jerry and I were blessed with Penny soon (but not too soon) after we were married. She had divorced her rat bastard husband after their daughter Katie graduated from high school, and Katie had her girls, one right after the other, soon after that. I didn’t care for either of my great-grandchildren's fathers and so didn’t mind that they were mostly absent.
One would never have accused my daughter or granddaughter of being heavy – tops or bottoms. Cheek to cheek to cheek, they were obviously mine but I could see people’s doubts when they were introduced in person. Bowie wasn’t like that, though. Right away he told them how lucky they were to have gotten my good looks.
“That’s your summer boarder?” Penny asked later. “You’re sleeping with him, right? Does Dad know?”
I told them to behave themselves and did my best not to talk about him at all. That didn’t stop Katie, who asked him out that night. I swallowed my jealousy and spent a lovely evening alone with my daughter and her grandchildren while Jerry was out with his friends.
“I swear, if Katie hadn’t taken him out, I would have,” Penny said.
We’re such a typical family – mother, daughter, and granddaughter all swooning over the same man. “You’re twice his age,” I said simply.
“I’m not serious, Mother. Besides, I’m a thirty-eight-year-old grandmother, so age is just a number anyway.”
“And your number is two times his,” I pointed out again even though mine was over three times.
Bowie and Katie returned just before midnight, a little tipsy from their good time. Katie gave him a small good-night kiss and Penny took her three girls home.
“I see you and Katie hit it off.”
He shrugged. “Katie’s okay, no offense, but I like women that are more mature, you know, and not so skinny.”
“Really?” I said flatly, with disbelief. I started to straighten things in the room that didn’t need straightening.
“Honestly, yes. Like I said, Katie’s okay but I would prefer to be with someone more like you.”
I scoffed at that. “You’d rather be with a fat old lady than a pretty girl like Katie? How much have you had to drink? You must have fallen and bonked your head.”
He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand and I froze there looking into his eyes. “That’s not what I said at all. I prefer a woman who looks like a woman and acts like a woman and not like a teenager.”
He leaned in and I bolted out of reach. “Now I know you’ve had too much.” I couldn’t believe that I was about to be kissed by a drunk man who was too young to drink.
“I'm not drunk. Why would I have to be drunk to not want some plastic Hollywood type?”
He grabbed ahold of my wrist and dragged me to the mirror in my bedroom that I always took great pains to avoid.
“There!” he said, standing behind me. “Don’t you see her?”
I tensed when he placed his hands on my waist. A woman’s breasts can be squishy, her rear can be too but her waist… The woman who was once the apple of her husband’s eye was now shaped like an apple.
“She’s beautiful,” he whispered. He wrapped his arms tight around my waist, kissed my neck, and drew me against him – against him – against it. “You’re beautiful. Don’t look away.” The entire side of my body went numb under his kiss. I couldn’t look away.
Bowie’s hand found its way under my blouse and grasped me skin-on-skin. He kissed my neck and shoulder and shifted closer, pressing his hardness forward, and back, and forward again.
I didn’t think. I tipped my head up, heaved my chest, and lifted and dropped my considerable rear end to massage his manhood. He moaned. God, I love the sound of a man when he moans.
His hand moved up, cupped a breast, and squeezed. “Take it,” I huffed and he dislodged my tits from their trap. His fingers sank as he lifted and crushed my yielding, heavy flesh. It was my turn to moan, long and high, as he pinched a nipple and pulled me even closer to him.
I took his hand from my waist and placed it between my legs and we rocked, his hand, my cunt, my ass, his cock, rocking faster and stronger until suddenly, he stopped. We remained still. I felt him then, his swollen cock, pulsing and throbbing in his pants and I pictured his seed pooling in there.
I did that. I did that for him. He said that I was beautiful and I got him off.
“Oh, my God, Polly,” Bowie said, taking a step away. “Polly, I’m sorry.”
He wouldn’t look at me in the mirror so I turned and forced him to look with his face in my hands. “Sorry for what?” I wanted to kiss him. He resisted but I insisted and I thanked him with my mouth and tongue for desiring me.
“You’re married,” he said between kisses. “I shouldn’t…I took advantage…Forgive me.” He controlled the kissing after that until we heard the door to the house open.
“I want,” I said as I quickly replaced my bra and straightened myself. “I want you. I want you to, to fuck me.” I wiped him from my lips and scurried to meet my husband.
~~~
At first, Bowie avoided me and I was afraid that he was ashamed of coveting an old, fat woman. Then I felt that I deluded myself into thinking that he really wanted me. I couldn’t get him to talk about it and was happy enough when we returned to how we used to be.
Jerry was an independent, sought-after craftsman. His steadier jobs were the easier ones, installing appliances for the big box stores, but if anything tricky or important popped up in town, they called my Jerry. A big electrical contract came his way and the pay was too good to pass up even though it was for some overnight work.
The devil on my shoulder couldn’t be silenced after Jerry told me and I mentioned it to Bowie the first chance I got. He struggled to be indifferent, I could tell, but then the devil on his shoulder whispered to him.
“When?”
“In two days. He’ll start at seven and I can be in your bed before then if you’ll have me.” I brushed against his pants just enough that he knew it was intentional. He made sure that we were alone, kissed me, and then went about his business.
The next morning, we passed each other (as usual) when he came out of the shower. This time, I was wearing only a bath towel which was barely long enough to wrap around me, and I blocked his path. I took a deep breath, afraid that I’d scare him away, and flashed him.
Bowie cooly opened his own towel and we embraced in a long kiss.
~~~
It took a hundred years for the next day and a half to pass. While Jerry napped and Bowie was away, I found something sexy to wear and I put fresh sheets on Bowie’s bed. Just to be sure he wouldn’t want the lights on, I readied two small candles.
Jerry left for work before Bowie came home. When my young, soon-to-be lover found me I was perched at the edge of his bed.
“Wow,” he said. He did. He said, “Wow” about me and I almost came then and there into my black silk panties.
My more-than-ample tits were lifted almost to my chin by an old corset that was too small when I first bought it. It wasn’t a proper one with laces but it excruciatingly suited its purpose. A black garter belt held up my black lace stockings. I was upset at first that my only pair had a hole and a small run in them but I distressed them with more holes and runs and they looked, and I felt, trashy.
I waved him toward me with my finger and took his pants down while he removed his shirt. I ran my hand down his taut tummy and played with his thickening cock and twitching balls. “Wow,” I parroted and took his cock into my mouth.
My scheme was not complicated. I would suck on him until he ejaculated down my throat or until he stopped my blow job only so that he could fuck me. Then, I’d get him hard and make him fuck me again. He was nineteen. I remember what men were like when I was that young. I had enough adrenaline and he had enough testosterone to fuck all night.
“God, Polly! Your tits. Show me your tits.” I was more than happy to comply and sprung my body free from its cage.
Like bringing a sword to a knife fight, Bowie flicked my stiff nipple with his steely cock, jabbing my tit before plunging it deep to its hilt into my flesh. He took my breast-cum-cunt into both hands and fucked me. The sensation was incredible and new as his hips madly thrust himself into my doughy bust, slick with his precum. I tugged my other tit by her nipple and rubbed myself over my silky panties.
Then we heard a car door slam. I saw Jerry after a covert peek out the window.
“Quick!” Bowie shouted.
“Yes, quick!” I replied and returned to my perch where I engulfed his cock between my tits and rubbed. “Cum for me, quickly!” He weakly protested before humping my chest. “That’s it, Baby, cum on my tits!”
The front door opened. “Polly?”
“Faster, Baby, don’t hold back!” He groaned as his first spurt hit me on the neck. The next ones landed on my chest and I wiped his empty cock clean with my tits before running off to the bathroom, grabbing some discarded clothing on the way.
“Polly?”
“I’m in the bathroom!” I shouted through the door. “Can’t a girl pee in peace? Why are you home? Is everything alright?” I flushed and came out.
“Yeah, something came up. They moved it to tomorrow night. We got paid a couple of hours for the trouble so I guess that’s okay. You got something on you right here,” he said, pointing to his own chest.
I swiped what I had missed when I cleaned up and popped it into my mouth.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Cream donut?”
I nodded. “More like an éclair.”
“I’m not surprised. If it has cream in it, it has to go into your mouth. Is Bowie around?”
Why would he ask that? I wondered. “Yes. Why?”
“You oughtn’t to go around without a bra when the boy is here.”
~~~
To put it mildly, I was moody the next day. I was frustrated. I was depressed, sure that Bowie would change his mind, and I resented my husband for no sound reason at all. Both men in the house stayed clear of me.
Bowie sat next to me in front of the TV after Jerry left for the night. “Jerry’s gone,” he said.
“I know that. What makes you think that I didn’t know that?”
He sat quietly and I ignored the hand he placed on my thigh. After a moment, he cried out, “Oh, for fuck’s sake” and got on his knees in front of me. He pulled my stretch pants and underwear down in one swift motion and buried his face in my bush. I exclaimed something unintelligible when he pressed his hands onto my thighs, spread my legs apart, and tongue-fucked me.
I squirmed under him, too sensitive to not squirm. He reached under and seized handfuls of ass in a vain attempt to control my writhing. I quivered through the effort to sit motionless while he bathed my pussy and I humped his face in time with his tongue. I hung onto his shaggy hair and arched my back when he made me cum, and he didn’t stop until long after I begged him.
Breathlessly slumped on the couch, I watched as Bowie slowly, deliberately disrobed. He casually strode off and I scampered after him like a dog who had been called for her supper. I embraced and kissed him at the foot of his bed and he swung me like a rag doll onto my back. My poor old hips hurt from spreading my legs apart so wide, and I used my fingers to pry my cunt open.
Fuckmefuckmefuckme…
He smiled and placed a knee on the mattress.
Fuckmefuckmefuckme…
His other knee joined the first. His divine rod waggled, oozing precum, as he waddled toward me.
Fuckmefuckmefuckme…
He stopped short and stroked himself.
“For God’s sake!” I shouted just before he fell on top and impaled me. “God, Yes!”
I felt every pound, pound, pound of his hips against mine and yet every penetration was in slow-motion and he stayed there, one cock overlaying the other, filling and overfilling my cunt. I held onto my tits to keep their flopping to a minimum and Bowie cried, “Oh, yeah, play with ‘em, Polly, play with your fuckin’ huge tits!”
I squished them and mashed them together. I pulled on my nipples and moaned loudly when I did. Then I lifted one to my mouth and sucked on it while playing with the other.
“Yeah, like that. Just like that!” he cried and rewarded me by thrusting even harder and faster.
He cried out that he was going to cum and I said that I was going to cum and I did, first. I had never heard the sound that came from my throat before – a soft, rumbling growl, a purr gone fierce. My cunt was convulsing into my belly when Bowie stopped his savage thrusts and, just like when he had humped my fat ass, I felt his swollen dick throb, better this time inside me, as he pumped out his hot cum, slamming it against my walls.
I cradled his head in the crook of my neck and kissed him over and over.
We fucked two more times that night. With his softer cock still inside me, we kissed and kissed and he sucked on my tits. I felt his cock growing and I told him when I did. I told him about every twitch, every shift, every surge until he drew back and shoved it forward again.
I fell asleep after that; my poor heart couldn’t take it. He woke me when it was still dark with fingers in my twat and on my clit and his mouth on a tit. His hard cock was bobbing and drooling against my leg.
“I want you on top of me,” he said as he pulled at the crook of my knee.
“I’d kill you.”
He was a strong boy. He pulled my leg over and forced himself under. He tugged me by the ass and I was on top and he was in me in one fluid motion. He thrust into my cunt and entertained himself with my dangling boobs. “Fuck me,” he said, “unless you’re too old.”
I wasn’t.
~~~
For the rest of the summer, we stole away whenever we had the chance. He fucked my cunt, my throat, my ass, my fists – he left enough sperm on my tits to paint my house inside and out.
I refused to be sad when Bowie left to go back home and back to school. I was given a joyous gift that was, old as I was, life-changing. He lied to my husband about when his flight was and I lied about where I was going to be that day and night so that Bowie and I could have one last day together.
I have a second bartending job now, at a pub across town, and almost shamelessly flirt for tips. My wardrobe has gotten sexier – not trashy (well, some) but there’s no reason a big beautiful woman can’t flaunt what she has.
Summer is the season for me. I would never cheat on Jerry with the locals.
