Sandi's Erotic Adventures Ch. 11

A semi-autobiographical account of my sexual encounters over many years.

Chapter Eleven. 1995.

(April.) Mick, around sixty.

What began as an unfortunate accident resulted in a very pleasant experience. It happened in early April, not long after my thirty-first birthday.

Driving along a quiet country road I pulled out to overtake a cyclist when a rabbit suddenly scooted across the road in front of me. Instinctively braking and swerving to avoid the rabbit the rear of my car inadvertently clipped the cyclists front wheel, sending him sprawling onto the grass verge.

Stopping the car I ran back to see if he was all right; apologising profusely.

The guy, though wearing a safety helmet, wasn't dressed the way an aficionado of the sport of cycling would be in as much as he wore normal shorts and a t-shirt. He lay on the grass verge untangling his legs from the bike and started shouting, "You stupid cun..," his voice breaking off as I drew near.

I repeated my apologies and asked if he was all right.

"My leg's a bit sore," he told me, rubbing his right calf. "But at least the bike seems OK."

Probably in his late-fifties or early-sixties the guy removed his helmet to release a shock of very curly hair, which would once have been black but was now predominately grey. The slim, good looking guy, introduced himself as Mick.

"I'm Sandi," I told him. "Let me give your leg a massage as I'm the cause of your pain."

Squatting, I ran my hands over Mick's calf while he lay back on the grass, soon holding himself up on his elbows from where I surmised he had a good view up my skirt!

After massaging Mick's right calf I transferred my hands to his left, soon moving upwards to his thigh.

"It's good to meet a girl who still wears stockings in these days of tights."

He lay with a grin on his face, Mick's words confirming my earlier thought about him looking up my skirt.

I didn't answer but transferring my hands to his right thigh I contrived the manoeuvre in such a way that my skirt rode even higher, enabling Mick to compliment me on my choice of panties.

"Although it's what's inside them that's important," he added with something of a leer.

Allowing my hands to brush across the front of Mick's shorts while transferring them back to the other leg I felt a hardening bulge. He sat upright then, a more serious expression on his face. Pushing his hand between my thighs, Mick said, "Perhaps I should take you behind the hedge."

"Perhaps you should," I agreed.

"And then get those sexy knickers off and give you a bloody good shafting. Spreading your legs for me is the least you can do for knocking me off my bike."

His fingers were rubbing the strip of material between my thighs by now and I quickly agreed for a second time.

Although there wasn't much traffic using the road Mick hid his bike from view before walking me briskly towards a gate in the hedge, not far away as luck would have it. The gate was secured by a chain and padlock so we had to climb over which in my case meant hiking my skirt really high, much to Mick's enjoyment.

"Phew, I'm going to enjoy getting between your lovely thighs," he muttered as I jumped down from the gate.

Fortunately it was a pasture field, recently housing sheep according to Mick though currently empty. Guiding me along to the left we disturbed a couple of birds which scuttled away, red-legged

Partridges he told me; my ornithological knowledge being minimal I took it for granted he was correct.

Mick took me in his arms and we kissed lustily, tongues entwined.

"You ARE up for it!" Mick exclaimed when parting from the kiss I immediately began undoing his shorts.

Though still early April the weather was warm for the time of year and the grass dry. While Mick yanked his t-shirt off I pushed his shorts and underpants down, then knelt. I studied Mick's penis, interested to find it circumcised as the majority I'd had so far hadn't been. Anyway, I started off by licking his balls well aware by this time just how much guys like it. Mick was no exception! Eventually though I turned my attention back to his lovely long penis, taking it in my hand and kissing the end. I ran the tip of my tongue round the sensitive rim and even probed the small opening at its tip. Only after quite a while did I take Mick's penis into my mouth.

"Hells teeth girl, you know how to pleasure a man," he gasped as I sucked on his penis, stroking his balls with one hand while stimulating his anus with the other.

I was thoroughly enjoying myself and had practically reduced the guy to a gibbering wreck by the time I rocked back on my heels and smiled up at him.

"Get your kit off girl, I'll ladder your stockings if I do it. Take every last stitch off mind, I want to see you stark bollock naked."

Happy to oblige I undressed under Mick's watchful eye. I studied his own naked body more fully then while he studied mine, finding my supposition about his hair colour to have been correct. Mick's genitals were surrounded by jet black pubic hair though the tightly packed curls on his chest were greying, same as his head.

As I removed the final item, my suspender belt, Mick grabbed me. His fingers dug into my bottom as he pulled me to himself for a repeat of our earlier kiss, this time though it was our naked bodies pressing together. I ran my hands down his back as the kiss went on and when Mick's fingers slid down the crevice between my buttocks I did likewise to him. There we stood, stimulating each others anal openings and when Mick pushed one, then two fingers, deep inside my anus I did exactly the same to him.

We stood there fingering one another for a while until a really fired up Mick suddenly tumbled me down onto the grass and buried his face between my thighs. It wasn't long before the peace and quiet of the field was broken by my ecstatic cries as Mick's tongue worked on my cunt and he again fingered my anus.

Having brought me to a particularly noisy orgasm Mick flipped me over onto my tummy. I promptly moved up onto all fours in readiness to receive his penis but Mick had other ideas. Pulling my buttocks wide he began licking my anus, prompting squeals of delight to break from my lips. When his fingers went to work on my cunt as well, stimulating my clitoris while he tongued my anus, I was practically delirious, (it was even better than my experience of similar with Norman). Another noisy orgasm hit me and as I came back down to earth I heard an over excited Mick shouting that I ought to be punished for knocking him off his bike.

So saying he began spanking me. Though offering up a token protest I did nothing to avoid the blows from his hand, remaining on hands and knees, squealing and wriggling my bottom as he spanked me.

With my buttocks stinging Mick drove his penis deep inside my cunt and I yelled, "Yes! This is what I need," surprising myself as much as Mick.

He was fucking me wildly, almost frantically or so it seemed, fired up by the situation. Lunging over to grab my swaying breasts Mick drove his penis in and out of me, grunting in my ear that I was one randy female.

He was gripping my hips when he came, penis jerking spasmodically deep inside me.

Once it was over I don't know if Mick felt embarrassed or what but he quickly departed the scene, leaving me still laying on the grass. Mulling over the experience I found myself imagining other cyclists appearing, having been alerted to my presence behind the hedge by Mick. The cyclists, perhaps six our seven of them, excited to find me still laying naked in the grass would take me one after the other. I found myself masturbating then, imagining my legs being held wide apart while penis after penis drove into me. No longer shocked by the recurring fantasy I continued masturbating as I imagined more and more guys arriving, all intent on doing it to me.

Dressing to continue my journey, I mulled over both the unusual and interesting encounter and also the resulting fantasy.

Though I made a point of driving the same road whenever I was in the vicinity I never saw the cyclist again.

* * *

(June onwards.) Charlie, seventies.

It was hubby who spotted the advert in a local paper. It read: 'Life Model urgently required for class of amateur artists. No experience necessary for this temporary role'.

"You've an exhibitionist streak so why not apply. It might give you a buzz to pose naked for a group of strangers," he suggested. "The class meets on a Friday evening so you're unlikely to be away overnight with work."

Thinking that maybe hubby was right and it might be an interesting experience I rang the phone number on the advert to find out the details.

It transpired that a local artist ran a course for budding amateur artists one evening a week at a community centre in the nearby town. The person who usually did the live modelling for the class had been taken ill and a replacement was urgently required for the remaining two to three months of the current course. Numbers for the course fluctuated between about ten or twelve each week.

After a lengthy discussion with first the artist, and then John, I agreed to take on the role.

I arrived early for my first session so that the artist could instruct me in the finer points of life modelling. The class was of two hours duration but there were a couple of breaks during which I would be able to relieve any aches and pains which might occur due to holding the unaccustomed pose.

"The most difficult part is recalling the exact position of the pose and to assist your memory I usually take a couple of photos of the model, photos which I destroy unless you'd like to keep them after the course," the artist said.

"Yes I would like the pictures; they'll probably turn my husband on," I smiled at the artist, whose name was Rupert.

There was a screen in one corner of the room behind which I could undress and initially don the robe I'd been advised to bring with me. I sat on a stool in the centre of the classroom while Rupert instructed me on exactly how he wanted the pose, adjusting my limbs to the correct posture himself.

I was introduced to the budding artists as they arrived and when the assembly was complete slipped my robe off to adopt the required pose. I surveyed the group while the artist took the polaroids as arranged.

There were twelve budding artists present that first evening of varying ages, the youngest being a twenty-something and the eldest a guy in his seventies. The sexes were evenly balanced at six of each. Rupert, the artist/tutor, was in his early-forties, long haired and somewhat bohemian in appearance.

Holding the pose for a prolonged period was harder than I'd expected and during the first break I slipped the robe on to stretch my limbs with a walk. I examined the early stages of the pictures and chatted to some of the artists before resuming my pose, the polaroids proving invaluable.

At the end of the session Rupert expressed himself well pleased with my work, telling me I had a natural flair for life modelling.

I hadn't found it a particularly sexual experience although some guys in the group had spent prolonged periods studying my body; perhaps that was just natural of artists though. Anyway, I'd enjoyed the experience and was happy to continue.

By the third session of modelling I was beginning to get to know some of the artists and the old guy, Charlie, commented that he usually went for a drink in the nearby pub afterwards but hadn't managed to persuade any of his fellow painters to join him.

"Bit of a stuffy lot socially," he went on. "What about you, care to join me for a quick one before heading home?"

Why not I thought and when the class broke up accompanied Charlie to the pub. Seated in an alcove with our drinks Charlie told me he was a widower and had been for some years. He'd taken up painting upwards of a year ago hoping to meet knew people as well as learn a new skill. He actually lived in the neighbouring village to our own although I didn't tell him so.

It was during our third evening in the pub that Charlie asked if I did any private modelling. I told him no, this was a first for me and had only taken it on because of an exhibitionist streak.

"I could do with some additional practise," Charlie said, after a look of surprise at my reason for doing the modelling. "It's difficult learning knew things when you're getting on a bit. I'd appreciate it if you could do a spot of private modelling for me, at the same remuneration as you get for the course."

I told Charlie I'd think about it, see what my husband said and let him know. Charlie gave me his phone number and we went our separate ways.

John proved amenable to the idea of a private session, saying perhaps Charlie would try to get me into bed.

"I doubt it," I replied sceptically. "The guy's in his seventies although I must admit he has a bit of a twinkle in his eye and likes talking about the female form, my own body in particular, though strictly from an artist's perspective."

Anyway my evening at Charlie's passed uneventfully although I saw him watching intently while I undressed ready to pose. Charlie had suggested I could undress in his kitchen and come through to take up the pose when ready but I told him it wasn't necessary.

"You've seen me naked enough times by now, anyway."

I hadn't bothered to bring a robe either so remained naked throughout the two hour session, even when exercising my limbs during breaks.

The first pose he wanted me to adopt was one where I lay along his settee, with one foot on the carpet and the other on the settee itself, with knee raised. Charlie, who seemed nervous as he fussed over the pose, handled my limbs very tentatively though I quickly realised he was trying to get a look between my thighs!

"Handle me as much as you like, I wont break," I chided him.

Anyway the evening passed without incident and we arranged for a second session the following week.

In the meantime there was the usual group session following which I joined Charlie in the pub as had become the norm. Whether it was due to Charlie growing in confidence as a result of the private session I don't know but over the course of our conversation he patted my knee a couple of times.

The second private posing session was altogether different and on returning home afterwards I was able to give hubby the news he'd been hoping for. Charlie had fucked me!

This is how it happened.

Following hubby's suggestion I wore stockings this time hoping they would turn the old guy on when I undressed. For the artist's group and first private session with Charlie I had gone bare-legged for speedy undressing.

The stockings had the desired effect, Charlie exclaiming, "Wow!" when I took my dress off.

There was no pretence of preparing his easel and brushes this time; he simply stood watching as I undid each suspender and slowly peeled the stockings down and off. By now I think he was just treating the whole thing as a striptease because he sat down to watch intently as I removed my bra followed very slowly by my panties.

Ignoring the settee and posing, I perched on the end of his bureau and leaned back spreading my legs.

"This is what you were trying to see last time, so have a good look".

Red in the face Charlie knelt on the carpet to stare between my thighs, his breathing quickening.

"Haven't seen one of these for over a decade," he grunted, his face between my knees.

"Then take your time and enjoy looking at it while you can."

Charlie made a very minute inspection of my cunt, stroking and opening the lips, fingers toying with my clitoris and all the time saying how wonderful it looked. Next he began licking me there, as carefully and fully as his finger exploration that preceded it.

Charlie brought me to orgasm and raised a smiling face to say, "I haven't lost the old magic touch."

Standing up he kissed me, his hands on my breasts.

"Taste your own cunt on my tongue, did you?" he asked on breaking from the kiss.

"Yes and I want to taste your cock now," I murmured, excited to realize there was a substantial bulge in Charlie's trousers.

I'd had my doubts that Charlie would manage it at his age so was pleasantly surprised when he removed his trousers and underpants to find myself confronted by a particularly large erection!

After removing his shirt and vest Charlie stood before me in just his socks; why do so many men keep them on? I saw a pasty white, thin and scrawny looking body with a sparse covering of grey hair. His pubic hair was also grey and sparse. Charlie's thin white legs made his erect penis seem enormous, perhaps bigger than the reality I thought taking it my hand.

"You've a good touch Sandi," Charlie murmured while I played with his penis and balls. "Is your mouth as good as your touch?"

"One way to find out," I replied and knelt at his feet.

The sparse covering of pubic hair was a decided advantage I found when sucking Charlie's balls. Soon, he pushed me backwards onto the carpet and knelt over my face to direct his penis at my lips. While I sucked on it Charlie reached back to slip a hand between my thighs.

"I'm really looking forward to sticking my old cock inside your juicy young cunt," he told me as he fingered it expertly.

Next, despite his advanced years, Charlie picked me up and carried me to his bedroom. Stretching me out on his bed Charlie quickly mounted me and I eagerly spread my legs to receive him. His penis slid inside and my cry of "Oh yes, it feels wonderful," brought a smile to Charlie's face gazing down at me.

I clung to the guy as he fucked me, my hands gripping his scrawny buttocks as they rose and fell. I was being fucked by a guy over forty years my senior and knew hubby would be as excited as I when he heard the news later.

Indeed he was! John urged me to undress and lay on the bed with legs spread before telling him all about it. No longer surprised by my husbands response to my adventures I lay there recounting all the intimate details of my experience with Charlie, John staring at my cunt and masturbating while he listened.

From then on Charlie's painting was forgotten and my weekly visits to his house became one of pure sex. Hubby was delighted by the way things had turned out; the fact that I had a lover just twelve miles away, although Charlie himself was kept in the dark about our close proximity for discretionary reasons.

At the beginning of August the art class finished and with my services as life model no longer required Charlie suggested increasing my visits to twice a week.

"The randy old sod!" John exclaimed before urging me to do so.

So by mid-August I was having sex with Charlie twice a week, usually Mondays and Fridays, but in mid-September a change to the situation occurred.

It came about because I had to take my car for a service, leaving it late afternoon so the mechanic could start first thing in the morning as I needed the car for travelling to an assignment that afternoon. Being a Monday I had taken it for granted that I would be able to borrow J's car for my visit to Charlie. Hubby had other ideas though and insisted on driving me there himself, proposing to wait outside in the car while I had sex with Charlie! It was a scenario which plainly excited hubby but I didn't know what Charlie would make of it.

The guy had been amazed when I told him my husband knew all about my affair with him and actively encouraged it, saying, he'd 'heard everything now!'

Anyway hubby duly drove me to Charlie's, without needing directions as apparently he'd already reconnoitred Charlie's house hoping to catch a glimpse of my aged lover. He parked beside Charlie's car while I went into the house. Having kissed Charlie I told him about J waiting outside in the car.

"What! You mean your old man's going to stay there all the time you're in here having sex with me?" he asked incredulously.