I sat down on the park bench, the sun beat down, it was too hot. England August 2022. Far Far Far too hot.
“It’s hot,” an older woman said as I sat on the opposite end of the bench to her.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Too hot, I don’t like it so hot, Eric my late husband wanted to live in Spain but I said it was too hot,” she informed me.
“Yes, hot,” I agreed.
“We used to live in Blackpool but it was too hot,” she said, “I don’t like it too hot.”
“Yes its hot,” I agreed, “With a cool sea breeze.”
“Not like here where its just hot,” she said.
“No breeze,” I agreed.
“It needs a breeze, its too hot,” she said.
“Well take your knickers off and let the air circulate around your cunt,” I suggested.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“I said turn your hearing aid on,” I replied.
“You said take your knickers off and let the air circulate around your cunt,” she replied.
“So why ask if you heard me?” I demanded.
“I couldn’t believe what I heard,” she replied.
“Tell you what why don’t I chuck you in the fountain and cool you down.” I suggested.
“My late husband tried to throw me in the Trevvy Fountain in Italy,” she said.
“Really?” I said disinterestedly.
“He hurt his back.” she said.
“Really?” I sighed
“Yes,” she replied, “Pulled a muscle, he was a lovely man, lovely muscles when we were married, he liked my cooking, that’s why he married me, I made sure he had a good tea every day so he didn’t go chasing other women.and he grew a great big pot belly by the time he had his heart attack.”
“Really?” I sighed, “I’ll make sure I don’t have tea round your house.”
“Clogged arteries, too much fatty food,” she said, “He loved fatty food.”
“I’m sorry, do I need to know this?” I asked.
“Big fat pot belly, he was so fat that on Saturday nights after Match of the Day I had to kneel down so he could get it in me from behind, “ she said, “When he could get it up at all, which wasn’t often, he used to like that Helga on ‘Allo ‘Allo, when she wore a corset and suspenders, or was it Herr Flick, I never knew.”
“Do I really need to know this?” I asked.
“He used to look out of the window when we were doing it,” she continued “Oh look there’s the number 87 bus, ‘he would say, It was his idea of a joke, but I closed my eyes and imagined it was Tommy Granby, Mrs Arkwrights gardener that was fucking me.”
“Too much information,” I explained.
“Well you told me to drop my knickers and I didn’t ask you to ask me did I?” she replied.
“No, I suppose not,” I sighed.
“I don’t think it would help much anyway,” she said, “Even if I did I’d still be too hot.”
“Yes, but if you put your knickers on your head it would keep the sun off,” I suggested.
“Why this fascination with my knickers?” she asked.
“I’m not,” I explained. “Just a helpful suggestion on how you can stay cool.”.
“Do you want to fuck me?"she asked.
“Er, no.” I replied.
“Oh, there’s no need to be rude,” she replied, “I may be getting on a bit but I still know how to give a man a good time.”
“Shutting up for five minutes would be a good start,” I suggested.
“Eric my husband used to say that,” she said, “Mildred, that’s me Mildred, he said, ‘for heavens sake shut up and suck my willy.’ he always called his cock his willy, like a child, never his cock or penis or anything manly, always his willy.”
“That is truly fascinating,” I said.
“Horrible man,” she said, “He had high cholesterol so I always made sure he had a fried breakfast,”
“So why did you marry him?” I asked.
“Cause I was pregnant of course, and he had a job in Swallow bank,” she sighed, “Of course it wasn’t his, well probably not, I was seeing Tom Bradby and Mike Grimshaw, and Mike’s Dad, Alan from the corner shop, he slipped me twenty quid when I let him do me, that was a lot of money at the time, anyway me husband did me once when I got very drunk, and I mean I must have been very drunk to let him do me, and we did it in the back of his dad’s Hillman Minx and I left me knickers in the glove box and his mum found them.”
“You could write a book about it,” I sighed sarcastically.
“All the boys wanted to kiss me then, I was quite a catch,” she said, “Not like now, back then they fought over me, bare knuckles in the Red Lion car park, Tom Bradbury and Phil Thompson, Phil knocked Tom’s tooth out and got himself arrested and Tom went home and Mike Grimshaw took me home in his Mini Van and we stopped in Handley woods.”
“Really?” In sighed.
“There’s no room in a Mini van, he had his builders tools in the back,” she explained.
“No I suppose not,” I agreed.
“And it was raining,” she said, “So we ended up fucking in the church porch, that was before they put the security light in, you couldn’t do it now anyway they lock the outside door at six in summer and when it gets dark in winter.
“Fascinating,” I agreed.
“It all changed when our Elsie was born, she sucked me tits out of shape and me husband saw me as Elsie’s mum and stopped bothering me and started screwing that Gladys from the post office.” she continued, “I bloody hated her, Gladys not our Elsie, though I didn’t envy her having my Eric pawing her, but she was all dolled up when I was all mumsy.”
“Yes must have been hard.” I agreed.
“Only if I sucked it first, he was a right bugger to get going, not like Phil, tickle his balls and it shot up like a bike pump when there’s already air in the tyre.” she reminisced.
“Whoosh, great,” I agreed.
“He was too eager, he used to shoot his stuff up my belly half the time because we couldn’t get it in me quick enough.” she sighed., “Do you have that problem.”
“Er no,” I replied.
“That’s good, nothing worse than getting all hot and its all over like a flash.” she said.
“I thought you didn’t like being hot,” I pointed out.
“Not hot hot, no not hot hot when its hot but hot when its hot and steamy and,” she thought a moment, “You know. hot and sweaty.”
“Really?” I agreed, “Like your cunt now you have turned yourself on?”
“Yes, I think I have,” she said, “Is anyone coming?” she looked round and raised herself up and pulled her pantyhose and knickers down but only as far as her skirt so no one could see, and then she kicked her shoes off and pulled them right down and put her shoes back on.
She stuffed the knickers and hose in her shopping bag, “That’s better,” she said, “I only live round the corner, do you want to come back to my place?”
“I’ll miss my bus,” I replied.
“They run on the hour, how’s about it?” she said.
“Ok, might as well,” I replied.
“Its sixty pounds for a half hour or a hundred for the hour, all night is two fifty and I throw in a fried breakfast.” she said, “No photographs or bondage.”
“Er, maybe next week,” I suggested.
“How about a discount? Twenty five? or a freebie?” she called as I stood to leave.
“Sorry,” I said, “Nice to meet you.”
“Twenty five pounds and I’ll cook you tea,” she offered.
“I don’t have a spare twenty five pounds and even if I did,” I explained.
“No, I’ll pay you.” she said, “I only have thirty pounds till next Pension day.”
“Sure, tea would be lovely,” I agreed.
It was good , better than good, as you can see on PornoTube because the bitch had hidden cameras everywhere in her damn flat and the whole thing was filmed and edited and sold as pay porn on the gold section, “Sixty year old hot slut with young guy.”
Hot Slut. Very funny.,
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