Father Christmas enjoys a loving neighborhood couple.
Based on a post by Drmaxc. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Father Christmas' Great Red Coat: A seasonal fantasy
Malcolm Butteridge stood in the bathroom of his flat, looking at himself in the mirror. His twinkling blue eyes looked back at him beneath shaggy white eyebrows. He broke into a smile and shook his head. His large white beard moved with it and the light caught and flashed off his spectacles. If he was to don a long red coat with hood and a pair of wellies and step out into the night on Christmas Eve, and the snow, then any child still up, perhaps looking out of the window for reindeer and sleigh, would point wide-eyed at him. He really was the perfect image of Father Christmas (or 'Santa' as seemed to have become the popular term, brought over from the States yet, of course, going back to St. Nicholas and so on).
But Malcolm had no long red coat, nor even that modern shorty red and white jacket with trousers - which just did not have the gravitas of the long coat. In fact, he was standing in his bathroom wearing nothing at all. No disguising that white hair was not just to his hair, eyebrows and beard but extended to his chest and, yes, his lamb's wool white pubic curls. Father Christmas with no clothes on and, Malcolm was pleased to see, even feel, a fairly firm erection.
'Sit on my knee little lady. 18 years old, are you? Not so little then! Good grades in college, I hope? Now what would you like Santa to bring you?'
'A nice big cock please, Father Christmas. I want an orgasm and cum as white as your beard.'
'Plenty of cum, little lady?'
'Oh yes, Santa, lots, and lots, please. I like cum!'
Malcom had a big sack, tucked just below his erection, with a couple of large 'presents' in them, but he was not sure that would be enough. It would be a job for the elves as well: all their ball sacks too! Malcolm found the idea pleasing; the young coed and all that elf-cum, white as snow. He reached and stroked his erection. Even at seventy-five Malcolm liked a good wank with his rather large cock. He liked to read a good bed-time story or even look at a picture book. His big fleshy bag of presents swung with the action.
His flat was warm. He had long ago dispensed with pajamas, even bright red ones with white trim, and teeth brushed, and hair and beard combed, he walked from bathroom to bedroom. Hall and bedroom were in darkness. The electric light was not on. There was a reason for that, and it was not simply that once in bed he did not like to get up again to turn the lights off; the reason was rather more interesting. Sometimes, just sometimes, he was able to see into his neighbors’ bedroom and not only did Malcolm enjoy a good story or picture book or two, but he liked a bit of a stage show.
Sylvie and Elvin were a nice couple. Ever so nice. Friendly and obliging. Might they be shocked to know that beyond sometimes getting groceries and doing other little helpful jobs for Malcolm Butteridge they also provided sexual stimulation and the opportunity for a very nice cum?
Perhaps it was because his flat was some way away, perhaps they just did not think Malcolm would use binoculars, but Sylvie and Elvin were not very good at drawing their blinds. Perhaps it was because their bedroom window, or the main one, was in the sloping ceiling of their much-modernized house. It afforded a remarkable view to Malcolm and his strong binoculars. He saw a view of their bed, somewhat from above, and even into the doorway of their bathroom, plus a great deal of the bathroom besides. Some days Sylvie would drift from the bathroom into the bedroom in pajamas or nightie. Other times,
And it was not as if Malcolm became all embarrassed or disappointed when Elvin walked from the bathroom naked. Malcolm could appreciate the male body as well. Especially when, Indeed!
And there Elvin now was, visible to Malcolm's binoculars. Not a stitch upon him, standing in the doorway of the bathroom with his cock hanging and the young man clearly rather damp from his bath. What a lovely little cock the young man had in its bed of curls. Malcolm imagined reaching out and stroking it. In the glass of his binoculars, it all seemed as if in reach. Curling under penis and balls and holding it in his hand before gently stroking it into tumescence; all delightful five inches of it. Malcolm had seen it before, knew how big it grew. It was not that big. His tongue rolled around his lips touching his moustache and beard. He would like to suck that. It was the right size for sucking, unlike his own rather big cock. It would also be rather nice to rub against his own, perhaps hold them both together in his big fist and stroke. One great big one and one not so very big; firm against each other, being moved in unison.
Or, and this was what he really would like to do, ease his big knob into young Sylvie whilst Elvin was already lodged in her ass. Malcolm had never done that; not to Sylvie or, indeed, any other woman. He had always wanted to try double penetration. Not Sylvie's ass for him. Too big for that, he was sure, too big for Elvin's as well! Well, the privilege of age perhaps to take the primary orifice. He would take the front seat and Elvin the back! If only.
Malcolm's very large penis strained, and he felt the glass cold against his knob.
Joy! There was Sylvie's ass in his binoculars, the one which would be far too tight for his knob. Not too tight to stroke his cock up her ass crack, though, and feel her rubbery but too small anus against his knob. She had come into view and was embracing her man. Malcolm lowered his binoculars and admired Sylvie's ass center stage before raising them again for the detail. She had two delightfully plump and curving cheeks, two perfect dimples above her crack and the divide running down to, yes, he could see curls peeking out between her thighs, they were not exactly squeezed together. He could not see her ass hole, hidden between those two squeezed together cheeks. Malcom did not think his penis would fit, was sure it would not - but that did not mean he did not fancy trying, poking his cock between those cheeks at her little brown star. Malcolm stared, imagining, his cock in his hand and his loose skin sliding over his knob and against the cold window glass. He pulled back exposing the whole cock to the night, the flared corona and the dark purple band as his helmet curved down and then out and around under to the shaft. Convex and then concave, an ogee shape. Perhaps he could push into Sylvie just a little way and squirt!
His teeth appeared in a wide smile as he watched Elvin's fingers reach around and clasp Sylvie's twin cheeks. He had before imagined Elvin and Sylvie with headphones and him issuing instructions by radio; him telling them what to do in their bedroom and on their bed. It was a nice idea. Would they, or at least some other couple, like that? Being instructed how to perform sexual acts, placing themselves under another's control. Not even someone in the bedroom, not even being able to see that other person but knowing he could see them as his disembodied voice spoke in their ears. Perhaps a willing cuckold being the observer and controller, actually telling his friend what to do with his wife, telling his wife to suck his friend. Telling his friend when to put it in.
Would Elvin do it? Would Elvin pull Sylvie's cheeks apart and expose her anus? What was this? Yes! Malcolm watched with undisguised pleasure as Elvin's knob appeared between Sylvie's thighs. Elvin had erected up and along Sylvie's sex and if not poking right out from her cheeks, his knob was most definitely there. And then Elvin did just what Malcolm wanted; very much as if Elvin did indeed have an earpiece and an instruction had whispered, perhaps a little hoarsely, in his ear. He did indeed pull Sylvie's cheeks apart and there it was so clearly; Sylvie's brown star and, below it, very close, Elvin's swollen knob. Malcolm's tongue came through his lips imagining licking both together, male knob and female anus both fresh from the bath. Up and down, up and down.
Against the cold glass of Malcolm's window pre-cum was being smeared by his rubbing cock.
Little did Sylvie know just what was revealed to the old man across the lawn and car park. Little did she know he knew by sight every inch of her body; even that particular inch of her body, her ass hole. Nor would she have thought the lovely old man with his ridiculous 'Father Christmas' hair and beard would so love to have entered, perhaps only part penetrated, her ass and released his stuff there. And other places of course. Malcolm would very much have liked to come all over her breasts, filled her mouth with his creamy cum or, of course, managed to get his large cock up into her, probably, rather tight vagina, perhaps after Elvin had helpfully 'eased' it for him.
The knob was withdrawn, and Sylvie eased herself around her man who was rather blocking the doorway to the bathroom. In so doing Malcolm could clearly see the change that had come over Elvin. The soft little cock now stood right up. Five inches of real man. He rather hoped Sylvie would kneel down and suck. He liked to see that, liked to imagine Sylvie sucking his own. He was not sure it would fit in her mouth; she might have to merely lick. Elvin seemed to have a very much larger mouth. Perhaps he might like to suck instead, whilst Malcolm watched Sylvie suck Elvin's dick.
For a few moments Sylvie was out of sight, perhaps having a little wee in the bathroom, perhaps brushing her hair, perhaps brushing her teeth, perhaps fitting on a strap-on's harness ready to take Elvin from behind. What a thought! Even better if he, Malcolm, could come up behind Sylvie and fuck her as she did it. She in Elvin, he in her.
For a few moments it was just Elvin and he standing there. In reality a long way apart and, of course, Elvin had absolutely no idea his exposed erection was being voyeuristically admired; had no idea at all what his neighbor, that so very nice, jolly old boy with the snow-white hair and red cheeks was imagining doing; had no idea what it might feel like to have a very substantial cock pressed hard against his own and for it to rub. Malcolm, though, was imagining just that, and Elvin's penis would be a lot warmer than the, admittedly double glazed, glass he was pressing against; two cocks firm in his fist as he rubbed.
Elvin was a good-looking young man with his fair hair, blue eyes, and white skin. Quite a Nordic looking young man, which contrasted nicely with Sylvie's dark hair and browner skin. He was standing directly facing Malcolm so there was no difficulty on Malcolm's part imagining them together, cock to cock. Firm rubbery cock, to firm rubbery cock.
The moment passed and Sylvie came back, or at least into the doorway. She stood behind Elvin, reaching around and stroking his erection with her hand. Lovely to have a woman's fur pressed against your ass cheeks, hard nipples pushing into your back and your cock being gently pulled by her hand; Malcolm would have liked that too. Or to stand behind Sylvie, his large penis right up her ass crack, his body pressed into hers and his hand reaching around both her and Elvin to stroke Elvin's cock as if it was really Sylvie's!
The amorous couple moved to the bed. Not for a simple cuddle, that was not their style. It was clearly an adventurous marriage. The Karma Sutra and perhaps other instruction and ideas books clearly upon their bookshelf. Elvin lay down and Sylvie got astride him, not on her knees but upon her feet standing on the bed above him. Malcolm was puzzled, but more than a little interested in what would happen. A lovely view of the naked Sylvie from her head to her toes, beneath her Elvin, his feet crossed, and his erection lying up his stomach. Elvin reached up with his left hand to her knee, perhaps to steady Sylvie, and then raised his other hand up between her spread thighs. Malcolm watched with delight as Elvin very clearly began to masturbate his girl, his fingers poking up into her and around her sex. Elvin would have an excellent view of what he was doing, be able to see all of Sylvie's folds and places.
Presumably that was why the light was still on. That was certainly more than a help to Malcom too. He could see much and, without harm to them, enjoy borrowed sex, his hand and their exhibition. He was certainly stroking, covering, and uncovering the swollen helmet of his cock.
Not only was Elvin's fingers up beyond the fine dark triangle at the center of Sylvie's hips but she was moving them from side to side rhythmically, almost belly dancer like,
whilst with both hand she held and played with her two not inconsiderable breasts. There was no weakening of Elvin's erection despite it lying there untouched. Had Malcolm been there in the room it would not have been just lying there. He would have held and stroked, most likely sucked. A nice mouth sized cock, not too large. Malcolm stroked with enthusiasm. He would love to measure his against Elvin's, not that his would not be the winner, by a considerable margin, but so good to feel another's firmness. And then, of course, fuck Sylvie - together.
Simply superb to watch Elvin's hand work. He had pulled thumb and all but his forefinger back and was now raising and lowering his finger up into his girl and then down again. So much the motion of sexual intercourse but done with a comparatively thin digit, not a long, thick, and potent cock. Elvin's cock, to be fair, was considerably bigger than his right forefinger but nothing on Malcolm's. He looked down but could barely make it out in the darkness. What would Sylvie make of that if presented to her! Would she not like to be fucked by that? Fucked by Father Christmas' cock.
What a lovely shape to her body. Malcom so admired the splay of her hips, her firm but not overlarge thighs, the narrowing at her tummy and her delightful little hidden tummy button and then up to her substantial breasts. Very much a woman and just the sort of woman he would like to fill with his sperm and not spatter the cold glass of his window, as seemed more than likely to follow. Suck Elvin to a conclusion and then fuck Sylvie to his own conclusion. Very nice!
Malcolm raised his other hand to steady the binoculars and, also, to prevent him over stroking his cock. Lovely to watch Elvin's hand and fingers moving between the girl's thighs. Up and down. He was not surprised to see the girl move; was not surprised when she settled astride Elvin's face. She would have found that very ticklish had it been Malcolm's face, but Elvin was clean shaven with not so much as a moustache. With Malcolm it would have been a meeting of white hair and black, a mingling of white and black curls as his tongue licked away, penetrating her and no doubt his lips then sucking upon her little button. That, presumably, was just what Elvin was doing.
A lovely thing to do, and how Malcolm would have loved to have been in their bedroom with them, by invitation of course, but with Sylvie's sex engaged upon Elvin's face there was not so much of Sylvie to play with, had he been there. But Elvin's penis was untouched. Hidden now behind Sylvie, Malcolm could not see it from his vantage point-- and nor could Elvin. That pleased Malcolm, it gave him ideas. He had a 'thing' about men's penises and him stroking or sucking them, without their knowledge! Not that a man would not know if his penis was being stroked or sucked but the idea that got Malcolm, and he had had plenty of time to think upon it, was of sucking when the man did not know it was another man but thought it his woman or a woman. Best if the man would be appalled at the idea, yet ideally Malcolm bringing the man off unaware. Elvin might be a little surprised to feel another mouth upon his cock whilst tonguing Sylvie.
Of course, had Sylvie been the other way around then Elvin would still have been unseeing due to her thighs clamped around his face, but she could have sucked on Elvin as Elvin tongued her, moreover she could have handed Elvin's nice little cock over to Malcolm. He imagined himself creeping, Father Christmas like, into the bedroom at Sylvie's beckoning. Elvin being quite unaware it was not Sylvie now stroking his cock, that it was not Sylvie sucking his knob, not Sylvie fondling his balls, even tickling his little ass hole, nor Sylvie swallowing his spurting, hot cum. A little secret between Father Christmas and herself.
The idea was a frequent visitor to Malcolm's head when in bed and when young Elvin and Sylvie did not perform live for his benefit in their bedroom. Malcolm had seen on the 'Net' the idea of the 'milking table,' a massage table with a strategic hole to drop one's penis through, somewhat strangely so the masseuse could suck and make the penis ejaculate whilst the man lay flat upon his stomach. A slightly odd idea because most men would surely be happy enough on their backs or even crouched on hands and knees so able to watch the pretty masseuse working his cock and making it ejaculate. Perhaps there was something more in it for the girl in having a cock disembodied from the man to play with. Nonetheless it seemed a popular idea and it gave the lovely idea, to Malcolm, of the masseuse under the table not alone but with him, and she taking a rest whilst he pretended to be her and played with the man's hanging cock. Even better with two men on side-by-side tables. Perhaps the men nervous of revealing their erections to each other, still less spurting in full view, how embarrassed they would be for the other to see their penis turgid, but happy to lower limp dicks through the holes and chat and joke together perhaps even with a towel nicely hiding each other's buttocks from the other whilst the incredibly beautiful masseuse played with their cocks under the adjoining tables, stroking and sucking them. Content to experience sexual bliss with the other but not having anything seen of their own erect penis, neither rising from the table until safely soft again after the sucking. One man shaking with pleasure whilst his is sucked and telling the other how good it is, little realizing it was Malcolm at work and not the pretty girl. Malcolm with a cock in each hand, big and chunky, his lips around one full knob whilst sliding the foreskin over the other, and why not, the lovely masseuse sucking Malcolm's knob! Of course, the men might feel his beard! 'Just my hair,' she might say, raising her lips from Malcolm's cock. And, after it all, the girl eventually rising with cum upon her lips from under the table, neither man knowing if it was the others, but it being neither, it actually being Malcolm's! All their pent up cum instead in his stomach.
Malcolm licked his lips. How good it would be to suck Sylvie's delightful folds and then Elvin's hard cock. Perhaps lick them both together as they fucked. His lips and face intimate with their genitalia, encouraging both into orgasm. He wanked away at his thoughts and the view over the way and through the couple's bedroom window.
The ejaculation from Malcolm's penis, when it finally came, was incredibly strong and satisfying. Malcolm had been storing it up for days - that seemed to be the right way to go at his age. He still took an interest in sex most days, but without allowing the final physical act. Edging but not cumming. This one was quite a gusher, it was a pity Sylvie was not there to witness it, or indeed Elvin. A comparison of ejaculations. Malcolm was sure his would be the more prolific. Certainly, from what he had seen through his binoculars he came the better. He had watched Sylvie's hand bring Elvin off before, indeed with Sylvie away, Malcolm had watched Elvin bring himself off more than a few times. He had seen Elvin's penis cumming by Elvin's own hand, and very nice it was too. Plentiful, nonetheless, like his own.
Malcolm did not draw the curtains but just climbed into bed, his penis still leaking as it subsided. He would clear up his window glass in the morning. He kept glass cleaner on hand, an unusual thing in a bedroom.
Does a voyeur really wish to participate? Or is the pleasure simply in the watching? The safety of observation from a distance and not having to perform. Faced with the reality, the invitation to join in, would many voyeurs find themselves not up to the challenge, their penises failing to rise, not maintaining 'wood', or simply falling away too soon and unfulfilled. Would the reality of the invitation, please do intrude, be too much of a shock? Fantasy easier to cope with than reality.
Malcom awoke from sweet dreams and drew his curtains, not to open but to close them. A voyeur does not perhaps wish to be seen! And he was naked. Despite retirement he still undertook some work, and this year, as last, he had indeed been employed in a role suitable to his appearance, Father Christmas at the local department store. Very much a seasonal job. And he did not need to wear a false beard!
Let us not imagine Malcom was some creepy old man taking sexual pleasure in having children sit upon his knee. No, absolutely not. Young women maybe, quite a different matter and, almost certainly, he would relish that; but what young mother did that and sit upon his knee? Young men would not go amiss either. Malcolm could certainly imagine fine young men upon his knee - and did.
His twinkling and roving eye certainly took in the young mothers, and he stored the memory for 'bedtime' when he could imagine a scene somewhat different from the 'Santa's Grotto' made of tinsel, crepe paper and papier mache at the local department store. His thoughts took him to a rather more realistic grotto or even a cabin away in the wilds of Lapland or somewhere. A snowy landscape through the window and him sitting on a firm wooden chair with a fire burning merrily in the grate. Upon his knee a pretty young woman, maybe a young mother, maybe a pregnant young mother, Malcom rather liked their rounded tummies and what it implied they had been up to. Perhaps getting each to tell him, uncle like, all about it, the impregnation as, maybe, he stroked their 'bump'.
Naked, well why not, or at least a pretty light dress with little underneath, the young ass warm upon his knee.
"And what would you like as a present for Christmas?"
"A nice dildo please. My boyfriend just doesn't satisfy me."
How good to produce one from his sack, despite the wrapping paper its shape obvious.
"You can unwrap it now."
The girl tearing at the paper, opening the wrapping at the knob end, and then drawing the pretty paper down as if it was a foreskin. Malcolm liked to imagine the dildo as very realistic. Just the sort of cock he would like to hold and play with.
"It looks a bit big, May I try?"
Just the sort of words Malcolm liked to hear, well he had put them in her mouth!
The delightful fantasy would go on.
Malcolm bathed and breakfasted and got ready to head for the store. A nine to five job which he was very pleased with. It was a pleasant way to spend a day, giving joy to all those children and he had a nice and easy patter. He was very happy in his work. The more so when he discovered who his new assistant, his 'elf' was; the previous girl had been OK but had another rather better paid job to go to and he knew the store had found a replacement. What he had not expected was it to be the girl he had been watching through binoculars the night before, a girl he had seen in her entirety many, many times, a girl whose boyfriend's hand he had watched busy in her sex, the girl he had ejaculated to, very considerably ejaculated the night before, it was Sylvie.
Sylvie was less surprised to see him. Malcolm, after all, was perfect for the role, not that Sylvie with her small frame did not fit the popular conception of an elf. Sylvie had rather more on than she had had the night before. She was not just coming out of her bathroom. Already dressed in costume, a nice little green pinafore long dress with a red shirt underneath. Long red socks. She had put her hair into pigtails and a bright red woolly bobble hat surmounted her head. It was all rather pleasing, certainly to a rather randy old gentleman like Malcom.
Dressed in his long red, white faux fur edged coat and black shiny boots Malcolm sat upon his 'throne.' He started the day with the hood up as the 'management' expected but that soon came down. The store was not so much warm as hot, certainly in the 'grotto.' Malcolm had quickly realized that wearing trousers, shirt and even jumper underneath was not a good idea. Not one bit. He had become steadily less dressed beneath the great red coat as the days had progressed. Somewhat unusual perhaps but are not ladies near as naked under a dress, so it was hardly different, really. His coat so long there was not a risk of bare knees showing. It was comfortable.
Sylvie was really good with the mums and dads and children. Perhaps particularly good with the dads. The day went like clockwork, and everyone was happy. Nice too, to eat lunch in the staff canteen with Sylvie. Great amusement always with the shop assistants and office staff having Father Christmas and his elf waiting at the servery with their trays. So enjoyable to talk to Sylvie.
It was a few days later, right at the end of the day when the managing director came into the grotto to talk to Malcolm. His approach very much management by walking around. He was effective. Sylvie edged away leaving the two men talking. The manager was pleased and talked for some time.
It was not quite like a theatre at the store, but Malcolm did have a dressing room. The building old and with rather a lot of spare space behind the retail areas. Father Christmas' dressing room came complete with a shower, which was rather good at the end of a hot day. Malcolm walked back to his room from his talk with the MD. His hand reached and turned the door handle and he saw what, in reality he had seen many times before, though Sylvie was not, most certainly not, to know that. It was a rather lovely, brown skinned elf presented to his eyes. Obviously, an elf because of the long red socks reaching to her knees but absolutely nothing else. Sylvie without clothes, Sylvie turning in shock but not before Malcolm had seen and admired, as he often did, her lovely ass.
She turned hurriedly so her ass was not on view, a hand reached down and covered her fur whilst another came up to cover breasts.
Malcolm was not in the wrong changing room.
"I, I was just going to borrow the shower. I thought you'd be ages yet and I locked the door."
It was not, of course, her changing room. She was not to know the lock did not work. Malcolm stepped through the door and closed it hurriedly so that no one passing could see in. He turned deliberately away from Sylvie towards the door.
"Oh dear, Sylvie, that's a bit of a shock for an old man! Go on, have your shower. I’m so sorry your changing room doesn’t have a shower."
"I'm going out this evening, straight from the shop, I thought."
"Go on, no harm done. Have your shower."
He stood staring at the door and did so until he heard the shower door close, and the water start. Slowly he turned and there through the frosted glass of the shower cubicle was Sylvie, her naked body heavily obscured but clearly naked, she was, after all, in the shower.
Malcolm undid his wide black belt and the buttons of his robe and hung it on a peg. He stood looking at the pleasing sight of Sylvie' something more than outlined body, showering through the obscured glass. Perhaps he might see more of her before bed through his binoculars. In her shower she was not to know that 'Father Christmas' was standing there naked but for almost knee length black boots and with a full erection, a very full erection, even if she might well think he might be staring at the glass. Malcolm stroked for a few moments thinking just how good it would be to get into the hot shower with her. What would it be like to rub his cock against her wet, soapy, and delightful body?
When Sylvie came out Malcolm was just doing up his tie. Trousers on and completely respectable. He turned away so she could unwrap the towel and dress.
"Have a good evening," he said, pulling on jacket and overcoat. He left, opening the door a bare minimum, and not looking back.
"Did you have a good evening?" Malcolm asked the next day.
Sylvie went a delightful shade of red that matched Malcolm's red coat. He was once again fully dressed as Father Christmas and his elf was in her costume. He had not seen more of her that night. He had been asleep by the time she and Elvin had returned home. Malcolm had not had to use the glass cleaner in the morning. His semen remained in his balls, balls that were at that moment dangling freely under his coat, below his thickening cock.
He very much remembered the sight of Sylvie in the flesh and not through binoculars. What a lovely little ass.
Sylvie had had a good evening but was profuse in her apologies. Malcom of course said she was welcome to use his shower any time. It was not a problem.
Would it be a problem if, incredibly, unbelievably something came of all that. If Sylvie perhaps suggested for speed, they showered together. The thought of her perhaps lathering him, paying especial attention to his penis and balls, his large penis and balls. Malcolm knew they were larger than Elvin's. Considerably larger. Would that please Sylvie, please her a lot?
"Do your knees get tired with all those children sitting on them hour after hour?"
It was a quiet moment one morning. No queue of mothers and children. Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "Not really. They are not that heavy and with feet firmly on the ground it doesn't tire. Would do if it were the mums, um, especially, that last one!"
"She was rather large!"
Sylvie in her green pinafore dress, red shirt and green long socks came over and sat on Father Christmas' knee. She was not large. Not large at all. It would have made a good photograph for advertising the store.
"Not a lot of weight to you, Sylvie." Not generally, but her chest was fairly weighty and sitting there with the girl on his knee and his white bearded head rather by her chest, Malcolm could rather see down her cleavage. Malcolm knew both of her boobs by sight, knew them very well through his binoculars. Had admired them wet from the shower or bath or in Elvin's hands, being very considerably manipulated. Even so, with the young woman on his knee he felt a familiar stirring under his robe. He hoped Sylvie would not feel the involuntary action.
"I keep myself in trim,” she said.
Malcolm had seen her go running in her shorts and shirt. Had enjoyed the sight and rather wished he could give her a vigorous rub down after the run. She talked a little about exercise as she sat there and then said something more about the children sitting there on his knee. "I must be getting rather heavy," she said. Malcolm really did not think so.
As the sound of the bell, Sylvie hopped off Malcolm's lap and headed to the grotto's entrance. Malcolm watched her ass beneath her dress. Very nice. He would think more about that later. For now he composed himself, his thoughts returning to his role.
To be continued.
Based on a post by Drmaxc for Literotica.