The Ballad of John and Al Ch. 03 - Sex Stories

The Ballad of John and Al Ch. 03

... Al's pleasures. The notion that she was seeing some cad who might just ravage her and move on to the next conquest ... well, it didn't fit with his fantasy, but it was sure making him hard.

"So ... you haven't..." he realized he was asking without having planned to.

"Oh, no," she reassured him. Then she added, "I'm not sure I've earned it yet."

Good thing he hadn't just taken another swig of beer. He choked anyway.

She glanced at him, and then moved into another position. Still utterly nonchalant.

"So, yeah. He's a regular. He's been coming there for years. His granddaughter used to work there. Everyone knows him, and, well, word gets around."

John coughed again. "Hisgranddaughter? How oldis this guy?"

Al stood up, still utterly casual, and then bent over to put her hands of the floor. She stepped backwards, into the downward dog position. "Seventy-five," she replied, not looking at him, not seeing his jaw drop open. "Seventy-six on his next birthday, in November."

John swallowed hard. She knew his birthday? Oh, God. She had always teased him about how her older customers were cute and generous, but ... Jesus, he had always pictured men like, maybe, sixty ... graying and thicker, but still robust, like his own dad. Not someone decrepit and sagging like his grandfather.

He watched her move from downward dog to upward dog, lowering her pelvis, arching her back, craning her neck toward the ceiling. He couldn't help but picture her moving that way ...

... because some ancient but obscenely well-hung old man was crouching behind her. Bald, but coated with white hair from his flabby pecs to his bearded genitals, grasping her waist, forcing her ass down and her back to arch as he slid himself into her like he was sheathing a saber.

She had opened her eyes and was looking at him with amusement. "Is that what you want, baby?

"You want me to cuckold you with ol' FC?"

No, he didn't. That didn't fit his personal fantasy. But his response kind of died in his throat.

"Because, you know, I think he wants me."

Ya think??? John thought, but he was too tongue-tied to say it.Of course the old guywanted her. Who wouldn't? But he was struggling to get his head around the idea of a 75-year-old man bagging Hooters girls left and right, on the strength of his saccharine charm and his reputation for having an enormous schlong. He could maybe picture some of Al's colleagues from her previous restaurant -- young women with voluptuous bodies, for the time being, but perhaps on the plain side above their tight t-shirts and shiny orange shorts. But Al was a goddess! Al was his princess. She just didn't let him call her that. Because that was her daddy's nickname for her.

Fuck. How dare a faded, broken-down old geezer even dream of touching his Al? Although Jesus ... he knew she was reading his turmoil and relishing it. Christ, would she fuck a guy like that to torment him, to give him his twisted fantasy?

Would she let the old bastard ...