The Widows of Willoughby Close Ch. 03

The Widows of Willoughby Close Chapter 3 - Phoebe

This story picks up where Chapter 2 finished and concerns James's first sexual encounter with Phoebe, and what came afterwards. It is the last of the 'Widows of Willoughby Close' series.

As with Chapter 2, it contains graphic descriptions of anal sex, so if this offends you, or it isn't your cup of tea, you might want to pass.

I hope you enjoy reading it and look forward to comments.

Sylviafan

The following Saturday I went round to Julia's house about one o'clock in the afternoon to have some lunch. She'd thrown me out after breakfast that morning claiming that she had housework to do. I certainly had plenty to keep me busy in my house; the essentials like the central heating, the kitchen and the new windows were done, but the whole place still needed redecorating.

I'd slept with Julia every night since last Saturday, when I'd spent the night with Jasminder. Tonight Phoebe and I would sleep together. At least that was the plan. After a sandwich, I tried to persuade Julia to spend the afternoon in bed with me but she refused, gently but firmly.

'It wouldn't be fair on Phoebe,' she said.

'So Phoebe and I are definitely on for this evening then?' I asked.

'That's the assumption that I'm working on. Are you ok with that, James?'

'Well I suppose so,' I said. 'I did want to talk it through with you though. I... I wanted a bit of advice, about Phoebe. About what to do.'

'I don't think you need any advice from me on what to do,' she smiled. 'You seem pretty capable.'

'You know what I mean. Phoebe's different to you and Jas.'

We were sitting at the kitchen table. Now Julia held her hand out to me and I took it and she squeezed my fingers.

'Phoebe is very kind and affectionate, James. She's also insecure and unsure of herself. But believe it or not, once you get her really aroused, she's... Well, I hope you'll find out for yourself tonight, but I don't think you'll be disappointed.' Julia paused, as if she couldn't make up her mind. 'All I will say,' she said, finally, 'is that Phoebe likes a little bit of domination, nothing too extreme, mind. She's very submissive, which I believe turns some men on.'

I pressed Julia for further details but she wouldn't be drawn and I went back to my house soon afterwards to finish stripping wallpaper in the spare bedroom.

At seven o'clock sharp I presented myself at Julia's door. As I waited to be let in, Jasminder and Phoebe came up the road and I greeted them with hugs and kisses. Jasminder was carrying an overnight bag, implying that she would be staying with Julia at the end of the evening. Then Julia was opening her door and we all crowded into her hallway and Julia shut the door and we trooped into the kitchen where the cards and snacks and wine were laid out on the table. I sat down and Phoebe took the chair opposite me, confirming that she would partner me that evening at Bridge, and afterwards in her bed.

Julia and Jasminder took their places at the table and Julia opened the first bottle of wine. She was wearing a black woollen cocktail dress that hugged her figure deliciously. Below that she wore sheer black stockings, which accentuated the shape of her superb legs, and black, patent high-heeled shoes.

Opposite her across the table Jasminder was also in a cocktail dress, and although she couldn't compete with our hostess's gorgeous figure, she looked pretty good. The dress was cleverly made to highlight her cleavage and disguise, or draw attention from, her rather heavy hips and thighs and her slightly bulging tummy. As always, Jas was heavily made-up, giving her a wanton look that sent shivers down my back as I recalled the events of last Saturday night. I had a fleeting image of Julia kneeling between Jasminder's legs and feasting on her hairy bush and dark chocolate labia and I shivered again and looked at Phoebe, who was looking at me.

Outwardly, Phoebe was the least attractive and the least feminine of the three "Widows of Willoughby Close". She was below middle height and thin and wiry, with grey, collar-length hair. Facially, she was unremarkable, although I think you would say she was on the prettier side of plain, with clear blue eyes and neat features. There were one or two lines on her face and some loose skin at her throat but otherwise she barely looked her age, which I had been told was sixty-three. She looked as if she'd made more effort with her appearance tonight; she was wearing a dark-brown trouser suit with a cream blouse and she had put more make-up on than usual.

The overall effect was of a pleasant-looking lady in late middle age. But was that the person I wanted to sleep with tonight? I didn't feel any of the sexual excitement and arousal that I'd felt with Julia and Jasminder. How would I feel when we were alone in her house? Would my doubts be visible to her? Would I be able to perform and, if not, how hurtful would that be? It had to be alright tonight. I owed it to Julia. And to Phoebe.

So it's fair to say that I didn't particularly enjoy that evening's game of Bridge. To make matters worse, I kept surreptitiously looking across the table at her and she kept catching me. With all this going on in my head I didn't play well and Phoebe and I were soundly beaten by the other pair.

All too soon, it seemed to me, it was ten o'clock and Julia was tidying things away and then we were saying our goodbyes and Phoebe and I were through the front door and walking together down the road towards Number One, Willoughby Close, Phoebe's house.

We didn't say anything until we were in her hallway when she asked me if I'd like a glass of wine. I said I would and I went into her lounge and switched some lights on and sat down on her settee and looked around.

The contrast between Julia's elegant furnishings and Jasminder's extravagant clutter couldn't have been stronger. Phoebe's house was spartan. Minimally furnished and with few decorative touches. As I looked around she came in with the drinks and sat next to me on the nondescript settee.

I thanked her for the drink and we clinked glasses and a silence fell between us and I felt supremely awkward and I looked at her and she looked back at me before breaking the silence.

'I'm afraid it's not like Julia's house. Or Jas's,' she said, apparently reading my thoughts. 'I'm not really into that sort of thing. I haven't got very much money, for one thing,' she said ruefully.

'It's fine,' I offered. Although what that meant I couldn't have said.

'I've been really nervous about tonight,' she said suddenly. 'I'm not gorgeous like Julia, or sexy like Jasminder. Well, I'm not, am I?'

I said nothing. Inside I was feeling very uncomfortable.

'I'm a bit scrawny and plain and I haven't got as much to say as my neighbours but I wanted tonight to happen, James. I want you to know that.'

She was sitting with her hands in her lap, the very picture of an embarrassed and flustered middle-aged lady and I felt a sudden surge of affection for her. I held out my arm in mute invitation and she shuffled across the settee and I put my arm around her and pulled her gently into me.

It felt a bit weird, holding Phoebe like that. Her body felt firm, and taut. She wasn't exactly skinny, but there wasn't much spare flesh on her. I kissed the top of her iron-grey head and she tilted her face to mine so I leaned down and kissed her on the lips, very slowly and softly.

And it felt nice. It felt lovely. Her lips weren't full and ripe like Julia's or Jasminder's, but they were soft and they opened slightly against mine in invitation and I slid the tip of my tongue into Phoebe's mouth and I felt her lips work against mine and her mouth opened wider and her tongue met mine and then both our mouths were wide open and our lips were mashed together and our arms were around each other, pressing us together in a passionate, sexual embrace.

I pressed her thin body to me and, remembering what Julia had said, I took hold of a hank of her grey hair and pulled her head gently backwards, breaking the kiss. She closed her eyes and shuddered and I kissed her neck and cheeks and her chin and she gave a little moan which I muffled by pressing her face back against mine.

We kissed like this for long minutes, my hand clenched in her hair, her arms around me, her thin fingers digging into the flesh of my shoulders. And, as we kissed, I became very aroused and very hard. This wasn't how I had imagined the evening progressing. Phoebe's behaviour hinted at exciting possibilities. It was time to move to the next stage.

Pushing her down so she lay on the settee, I pulled her jacket open and, as she watched me with wide eyes, I undid the buttons on her cream blouse, exposing her flimsy white brassiere beneath. I pulled her bra up, exposing her breasts. They were small and pale and tipped with little rosy nipples. I slid into a kneeling position on the floor and held her shoulders down while I lowered my mouth to her breasts.

The flesh was firm, the nipples hard and I took one into my mouth and sucked and bit gently and Phoebe gasped and writhed as I held her down and transferred my mouth to her other nipple and suckled that and bit down a bit harder and she squealed and I felt the rush of sexual energy and it seemed to crackle between us, goading me to experiment further.

Releasing her shoulders, I fumbled at the buttons of Phoebe's trousers, resisting the urge to just tear them down. I got the waistband undone and the zipper down and then I pulled her trousers down to her ankles and her little lacy panties with them.

I glanced up at Phoebe's face to see if she was ok with me stripping her like this, but her eyes were closed, her mouth open, her arms akimbo in supplication, so I lowered my head to her crotch.

Phoebe's pussy was framed by untidy, wispy brown hair, the lips neat, parted slightly with desire, and I guessed she was very aroused. Without preamble, I buried my face in her cunt and licked and sucked at her. She tasted salty and sweet and very delicious and I mashed my face into her labia, getting my tongue into her vagina, slurping up her juices, swallowing her secretions.

Above me, Phoebe groaned and shuddered and gripped the fabric of the settee.

Stopping briefly, I pulled her trousers, panties and shoes off completely and, taking her ankles in my hands, I opened her thin legs wide and bent them over her chest to give me better access to her. Then I buried my face in her pussy again and lost myself in a welter of licking and sucking and tasting and smelling.

I licked her labia and sucked them into my mouth, feeling the loose flesh between my lips. I ran my tongue down her perineum and over her tight, pink, pucker. I licked her clitoris and sucked on it and she went into grunting spasms as an orgasm rocked her thin frame.

Freeing my rigid cock from my trousers with one hand, I held her legs bent over onto her chest with the other arm while I guided myself to her slit. She was sopping wet, with her juices and my saliva and I pushed deeply and easily into her, where a very pleasant surprise awaited me:

Sixty-three-year-old Phoebe was as tight as an eighteen-year-old virgin. Her cunt felt amazing! Hot and slick and wrapping my shaft with its bulbous head in a deliciously firm grip. I was delirious with arousal and pleasure and I fucked my meat in and out of Phoebe's cunt with long, hard strokes, making a sucking, squelching noise as I went. Leaning over, I took her nipples between fingers and thumbs and squeezed them and Phoebe gave a strangled gasp and wrapped her legs around my buttocks, urging me in deeper, and in that moment I came, with a deep groan and a rush of intense feelings, my cock pumping creamy hot spunk into my elderly lover as she writhed beneath me on the settee.

As the storm in my brain subsided and the waves of pleasure abated, I felt a flush of guilt and shame at my handling of Phoebe. Still kneeling between her legs, still inside her, I leaned over and kissed her gently on her lips. She responded by hugging me tightly to her and kissing me back with fervour, her lips working against mine, her tongue in my mouth. That wasn't what I had expected.

I broke the kiss and looked at her, my face inches from hers.

'Was that alright?' I asked, hoarsely. 'I wasn't too rough with you was I?'

It wasn't all that light in the room, Phoebe's lamps all seemed to have low-wattage bulbs in them, but I could see her flushing pink with embarrassment.

'It was lovely, James,' she said softly. 'Was it nice for you?'

Suddenly I felt embarrassed, so I slid my prick out of Phoebe's tight pussy, the dim light glistening on my slimy shaft, and pulled my trousers up. Then I helped Phoebe restore her clothing and sit up and I sat down next to her and put my arm around her and hugged her against my chest.

'It was...' I paused, trying to find the right words. 'It was wonderful,' I said at last.

Phoebe smiled. 'Are you surprised,' she whispered.

'Yes,' I admitted. 'I suppose I am, a bit. I hope that doesn't sound too awful.'

'No, of course not. Would you like some more wine?'

I hesitated, not sure what the plan was for the rest of the evening. 'Did you want me to stay the night?' I asked,' instantly regretting my bluntness. 'Sorry, Phoebe, that came out all wrong.' I thought about the tightness of her cunt and her submissive behaviour and I felt the sap of my desire rise in me again. 'What I should have said is "I'd very much like to stay the night if that's alright with you".'

'I want you to,' she replied, quietly. 'There are some things I want to say and... well, in the dark would be easier for me.'

So we had another glass of wine and then we went to bed and it was all a bit awkward as we got in each other's way in the bathroom and I had to ask to borrow her toothbrush because I'd forgotten mine and then it was a bit awkward in the bedroom as I tried not to look at Phoebe as she undressed. Then she slipped under the duvet of her double bed and I joined her and she switched out her bedside lamp, plunging the bedroom into near-total darkness.

In the dark womb of the bed I felt for my elderly lover and she came into my arms and I held her tightly, her hair tickling my neck and shoulder, her thin arm across my chest. I stroked her back and slid my hand down to run over her small, taut buttocks and she sighed gently and I waited for her to talk.

I waited a long time and I was beginning to think she'd fallen asleep when she suddenly said:

'Believe it or not, James, you're only the third man I've ever slept with.'

I was surprised at this admission, but I held my tongue.

'I had a boyfriend, when I went to college, but his parents didn't think I was good enough for him and they turned him against me.' She paused for a few moments. 'I sometimes wonder how different my life might have been if I had married him. I wanted to,' she said, wistfully.

'Then I did get married and it was ok at first, but then it wasn't and he was horrible to me and he didn't touch me and I had no physical relationship for years. Eventually I plucked up the courage to divorce him, and I would have done if he hadn't had a stroke and died. That probably makes me sound horrible and unfeeling, but he was a nasty man and I wasn't sorry. Then I moved here and met your grandmother and Julia and Jasminder and, well you know what happened. And it was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I'm not gay or anything but I just loved the intimacy with the other ladies. The first time in years that anyone had touched me. And they made me feel so special, so welcome.

'And then Eileen died and you came along and Julia asked me if I would like to sleep with you and I got all excited and I sort of melted inside with nervousness because it had been so long since I'd slept with a man and I didn't know if it would be alright.'

'It was more than alright,' I interjected.

'Oh, it was James. It was. You made me feel so good and so warm and for the first time in years I felt sexy and I had the most terrific orgasm...' she paused again. 'I'm sure you don't want to hear all this.'

I said nothing and after a while she continued.

'Tonight you made me so aroused. I can't remember ever being so excited. It all felt so good. And then you were a little bit rough with me and I thought I was going to faint. Oh James, I loved it when you pulled my hair and pushed me down on the sofa and pulled my clothes off and I'm sure that probably sounds really odd to you. I'm sorry.'

'You have nothing to apologise about,' I told her.

'It's a fantasy I've always had,' she said, so softly that I had to strain to hear. 'All my life I've wanted to be dominated by a man. To be taken against my will, although it wouldn't have been against my will at all. To be held down, like you held me down tonight. To be taken, without permission... Oh, God, James, I can't believe I'm telling you all this. Do you think I'm weird and horrible?'

'No,' I said, quietly but firmly. 'You're a lovely, gentle, kind and sexy lady and I adored making love with you earlier. And I want to make love to you again before we go to sleep.'

Phoebe shivered in my arms.

'I've never been rough with a lady before this evening,' I said. 'I don't know what came over me.' The second bit wasn't exactly true but I didn't want to tell her that Julia had been indiscreet. 'But I have to say it excited me too, Phoebe, and if you would like to explore that side of your sexuality, I'd love to go on that journey with you.'

As I said this, my hand reached for her breast and cupped the little bud, squeezing and massaging, stroking the nipple. Down below, my cock was filling with blood, expanding, getting rigid.

'I'll never do anything you're not happy with, but if you'd like to explore bondage...' I whispered in her ear and my hand left her breast and slid over her flat stomach, feeling the bones of her pelvis. 'I'd be very happy to tie you down and explore your body and kiss and lick you...' My hand cupped her vulva and squeezed gently and Phoebe shivered again and stroked my chest and a wave of pure desire welled up in me, prompting some darker thoughts to flash through my mind.

'And maybe, before I put my big penis inside you, I might decide that you've been a naughty girl and I might need to spank you. And after I've spanked you I might have to make you suck my big cock.'

God knows what prompted me to say those things. It was all a bit out of character for me but I was caught up in the moment. As I said them I slipped my two longest fingers into her sopping pussy, as far as they would go, feeling her cunt muscles grip me and Phoebe groaned and rolled on top of me and kissed me with a fiery passion, her mouth pressed to mine, her tongue deep in my mouth, her hands either side of my face. She writhed and rubbed herself against me and I cupped her little tight buttocks and pressed her loins into my erection and the devil on my shoulder whispered in my ear and I parted her cheeks and sought her anus with a fingertip and as I pressed my finger against her pucker she screamed silently into my mouth and bit my lower lip and pressed her fingernails into my cheeks.

Was this really the same rather small, grey and dowdy Phoebe that I'd come to know over the last few weeks? I was taken by surprise by her reactions, thrilled by her disclosures and excited about the future. Pushing her roughly off me, I rolled her onto her back, forced open her legs and entered her in one long, satisfying thrust, into that tight, velvet-lined cunt, wet with her juices and my come. Somehow, it was even better than the first time; for one thing I wasn't kneeling on a threadbare carpet! But the darkness brought an anonymity and an intimacy that had been lacking in the spartan lounge. I found her arms in the dark and held them down on the bed, pinioning her, rendering her helpless to my thrusting invasion of her cunt. I fucked her with long, slow strokes, putting off my climax as long as possible, revelling in the grip of her vaginal muscles. Underneath me, she bucked her narrow hips to meet my thrusts and strained against my hands, locked around her thin wrists. I found her little breasts with my mouth and bit her nipples hard and she cried out and writhed and struggled and I continued fucking her and taking almost all of one breast into my mouth and sucking her little bud.