”Lars Floats Mette’s Boat”
When Mette’s environmental action group was looking for a boat to use a prop in an upcoming climate demonstration, she asked around if anyone knew somebody who might have one. After only a couple of phone calls she found just the thing – a dilapidated row boat that had been collecting weeds for years in the back garden of one of her brother Ib’s friends.
Knocking on the front door of Lars’ cottage she felt a little apprehensive. It was not the kind of thing that she usually did and she had no idea what Lars was like apart from the fact that her brother had said he was “and old hippy” and that he was happy to help her. When Lars opened the door, he fitted the bill entirely. He had long greying hair and a braided beard and although his face was weathered from, what she presumed was, a life-time spent outdoors, he still had good body – strong arms and an almost flat stomach. She noticed too Lars’ ice-blue eyes and how they twinkled mischievously in the sunlight.
He ushered her inside and made coffee and explained that his wife Bente would not be joining them. She had been ill for sometime and had to go to a doctor’s appointment in Næstved and would not be back until the evening. Mette showed appropriate concern and said that she was sorry, although she was not aware that Lars was even married and somewhere felt that his marital status made the situation less interesting – the same way she had felt as a teenager when her friends announced that their parents would be present at their birthday party.
Moving from the kitchen to the garden, Lars went about assembling pots of paint that he stacked by the door of an old shed, but as Mette bent down to examine the labels she felt sure that he was eyeing her up. Not that she minded too much, it had been some time since she had been admired by a man and because of this she may have bent more fully over than was actually required – offering up her pert bottom and the crease in her shorts that ran between her thighs.
After working for a couple of hours on the side of the boat Lars proposed that they take a break and have some lunch. Pulling out a sun-lounger he said “you lie their, while I’ll make the food.” Mette accepted the offer gratefully and feeling suddenly y closed her eyes, lulled by the sound of the fridge and the opening and closing of kitchen cupboard doors. She awoke with start as Lars held an ice-cold beer against her check. Laughing as she jolted awake Lars said:
“I couldn’t help thinking how lovely you looked lying there. Ib, never told me that had such a beautiful sister.”
Although never prudish, Mette had not been forward with men, preferring to let them do the chasing, but she felt comfortable with Lars, and suddenly found herself saying teasingly: “And Bo never told me that he had such a handsome friend.”
“Old friend,” Lars added with a laugh. “You know I am almost 70.”
“Don’t they say age is just a number,” Mette replied and as she reaching over to him to click beer bottles she let their fingers touch. Although the contact was tiny and fleeting, Mette had to admit that she had felt the tingle of small frissons of electricity. From first setting eyes on Lars she had known that he fancied her and she couldn’t help but offer him a little bit of encouragement by laughing girlishly at his jokes and holding eye contact with him just a little too long.
There conversation moved to the 1970s. Lars had been loosely associated with a number of Danish rock bands and had been in on the ground floor of the Roskilde Festival.
“Things were so different back then,” he said. “People weren’t so buttoned up and there wasn’t so much difference between men and women and me and my friends often were naked together,” he said with clear fondness for days gone-by.
Lars didn’t know it, but Mette had often wished that she had lived in the hippy era as she considered it a time when people were much more free and not bound by the strict conventions of the modern era. She had read about bollerrum in hippy communes and had often fantasized about having group sex.
Snapping away from these thoughts, Mette reached over the side of the boat to start painting its inside. Again, she felt Lars’ eyes on her and when she turned to look at him, she could clearly see the outline of an erection straining against his demin shorts.
Mette stopped for a moment, she was experienced in turning points and she knew this was one. She could pull away now, turn the conversation back to helligdage and global warming or she could go on.
Feeling her nipples grow hard, Mette couldn’t help but help but enjoy the effect she was having on him. Lars may have been old, but he still clearly had the lifeforce and somewhere she couldn’t help wanting to give him some late pleasure. What if she let him kiss her or touch her breasts? She wondered how surprised and grateful he would be if she let him have her – let him lick between her thighs, get inside her.
“Come over here she” she beckoned as though she wanted Lars to see something interesting. He put down his paint brush and came alongside her purposefully letting his arm brush against her left breast. Then she turned her head and planted an almost imperceptibly gentle kiss on her lips. He kissed her back, letting the tip of his tongue enter her mouth – the smallest of penetrations. Then he lifted his hands up to her breasts and pinching her nipples between his fingers said: “You are making my old cock very, very hard.”
Expertly unzipping his fly, Mette prized his penis from his pants. It was already almost fully erect and it pulsed strongly in her hand as she pulled back his foreskin to reveal his dark red glans. She lowered her mouth on to the tip of his penis and started to work up and down its length.
Lars let out a deep moan that seemed to come from deep within the pit of his stomach.
It had not occurred to Mette that there would be no perceptible difference between Lars’ cock and that of much younger men. She pulled head away and admired the dark purple veins running its length – reminding her somehow of the trunk of tree. She weighed heavy balls and then moving down onto the grass beside the sun-lounger kissed the length of his cock and then took it deep into her mouth.
Mette could feel the blood flooding into clit and here pussy juices were starting to drip into her panties. It was very arousing to be wanted and Lars was breathless with yearning.
Looking up at him, she suddenly wondered if she could fuck an old man, but at the same time she was high on her power that she wielded over him.
“How long has it been since you fucked a woman?,” she asked.
Lars blushed: “Well, as Bente has been ill for years, I guess it is longer than I care to remember.”
“Do you think I am going to let you fuck me?” she asked.
“I hope so,” he whispered as he gently pulled her towards him. His cock that had grown to its full length and was straining upwards like a victim of a shipwreck waving at air-sea rescue. She removed her shorts and her panties then, spreading her pussy lips with one hand, eased herself onto him. His cock felt bigger than she had expected and he pushed deep inside her, filling her and spreading waves of electricity into her thighs and stomach.
“Do you like my cock?” he whispered.
He throat was too choked to speak but she nodded, luxuriating in the feeling of his cock fucking her wet pussy.
For a while she simply sat on him feeling it inside her, but then building momentum, she began to ride him more rythmically letting his cock slide easily between her lips and occasionally lifting herself up on her haunches so that only the top of his glans touched her pink hole.
“Bet you didn’t think this was going to happen when you woke up this morning,” she whispered.
Lars smiled up at her. “No,” he said. “But I lied. I’ve seen pictures you and always knew that Ib had a hot little sister.
She could feel his balls tightening between her legs and sensed by his shallow breathing that he was close to cumming.
“I want you to fill my cunt with your cum, can you do that?”
Lars nodded.
Thrusting down hard on his cock she felt his hot cum spurting long and hard into her hot pussy, and then came her own organism, radiating deep within her as she melted onto his prick her stiff swollen clitoris pulsing on top of his erection.
Feeling his cock stiffen slightly Mette shivered and then she felt his cum starting to weep from her tight pussy. She raised up her body so he could see his cum on her lips and watch it fall in thick white globules onto his stomach.
Exhausted, Mette lay down on Lars’ chest her nipples hard against his, their hearts pounding.
Erotiske noveller skrevet af Skyfall