I had been thinking about the little Goth chic I had boned a couple of times in what turned out to be nearly a year before. I calculated that I had turned 56 since which made her 24 now. My tool was making plans to poke her and well what could I do but go along with its desires. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I hadn’t had a root for nearly six months and my hand just wasn’t doing it for me. Well it was of course but you know what I mean.

I visited my ancient aunt a few times (which I used to do anyway as I liked my aunt) in the hope I would run into my little goth chic who also visited her. It didn’t happen and I had a nice visit with my aunt, all of the time my tool was hanging on the Goth chic walking through the door but to no avail. My backup plan was that I walked past the Goth chic’s house every time I visited my aunt. One of those times her mother was in the front yard digging the plants or something. I didn’t really like this woman and I think it was mutual, regardless I said hello and she replied briefly. Like daughter like mother I guess. I enquired how she was and how the family was. She replied occasionally, barely looking up from her plants, that her son was doing all right but Julie (my Goth chic) had moved in with a girlfriend, another Goth by her sneering description of “dressed in black all of the time, what a lot of rot!” just down the street in the units. I sort of agreed with her about the Goth thing, I was more trying to get on her good side really but I have never seen the attraction to that lifestyle but to each their own I guess. My Apologies to any Goths reading this. Despite my Goth chic being dressed in black all of the time and always having a frown on her face I still wanted to get my tool into her as deep as I could so her apparel and surly attitude certainly wasn’t affecting my drive to get my tool between her legs. Out of all of this conversation with my Goth chic’s mother she wasn’t forthcoming with her actual address. She did however say it was in the units of which there was only one block in the street in those days and it wasn’t a big block only having as it turned out, six units. I was homing in on my Goth snatch.

The following day I arrived at the front of the unit block. The letter boxes had names on them. People were more trusting in those days. Do people put their names on letter boxes in units today? Anyway, some efficient soul had put names and “Mr.” or “Mr. and Mrs” on five of the six letter boxes. I concluded that the sixth must be her unit and duly found myself standing nervously at the front door of that unit shortly after. After an eternity I gathered up the courage and knocked. A big bloke answered the door and somewhat taken aback I asked if Julie was home. He looked puzzled and was about to say something like “there is no one here by that name” when the penny dropped and he said “oh, the Goth girl?” He asked with and upper inflection, “she’s in number three”. I told him I wasn’t sure as I had only seen her a few times but he had of course given me vital information and my quest to get into the pants of my little Goth chic had taken a giant leap forward for my tool. I thanked him and retreated down the stairs as he went back inside and shut the door. Obviously my sleuthing about the names on the letter boxes had failed miserably.

I stood once again at the door of my little Goth chic. I knocked and knocked again but there was no one at home. I came back during the day a few times but she/they were probably working and so finally I left a note explaining who I was and did she remember me. Did she remember my massive tool that made her eyes water when I penetrated her tiny little twat and did she remember my balls that hung like billiard balls dangling in a large sac between my legs and were responsible for delivering a massive load of semen into her until it ran back out of her and down our legs in warm slow sticky streams? Ok, I didn’t say any of that; I just left a brief explanation and my phone number.

Weeks passed without any call from her. In the mean time my hand had been working overtime and I had blown millions of my little swimmers into the sink or onto the kitchen floor or onto the bed sheets first thing it the morning. One evening the phone rang and I answered it. “hello”, “hello”. They usually get three hellos before I hang up. I delivered number three and was lowering the handset gently to the phone (yeah right) when I heard a “what do you want?” coming from the earpiece of the handset.

This conversation is an approximation as it was some time ago but it went something like this.

I realized who it was and quickly put the phone to my ear and asked her “I just was wonder if you would like to go for a coffee sometime” in my calm, quiet and charming voice. “no” was the curt reply. An “Oh, ok” from me received a long silence from her. It’s amazing how deep and endless those silences are. They seem to go on forever like the endlessness of outer space or the depths of a woman’s twat (speaking for myself of course, you guys with huge dicks wouldn’t know what I am talking about). She erupted back into voice with an “I’m going now”. I replied with a frantic “no, no, wait! What’s your phone number?” These were landlines unfortunately so I couldn’t capture her number. She enquired “why?” “just in case” was my floundering, desperate reply. “in case of what?” she demanded. “Oh, I don’t know” was my even more desperate reply but said in a nice way, sort of relying on her taking mercy on this pathetic little toad (or that is what I felt like) of a dirty old man phoning her up. I wanted to hang up and crawl under my rock but my sex crazed tool wouldn’t let me and I am indebted to it for that at least. If only my tool could talk I could have put it on the phone to argue with her but I was stuck with having to adlib and keep her talking. “No’ was her terse reply to my desperation. I resorted to patheticism with a touch of humour and hit her with “oh, go on, please, please, please?!” It just bounced off her Goth armour as she mercilessly told me “No! I’m hanging up now!”
In an even more pathetic voice (if indeed that was possible) I begged her “no, don’t, just give me your number and I will go”. There was a long empty silence (but she hadn’t hung up so that was a plus) followed by a big exasperated sigh as she blurted out her phone number. I frantically tried to remember it as she hung up. There ensued a frantic fumbling around for a pen and piece of paper before my panicking overworked, blood staved brain I forgot the number.

I phoned the following week and then a few times over the months whenever I got horny. Each time I was rebuffed and doomed to my hand for relief. Mind you the vision and thought of my Goth chic seemed to be enough judging by the hearty spurts of hot jism erupting like a geyser from my tool as I jerked myself to orgasm.

Six months went past and I had managed to find another woman to root and a very pleasant root she was. You wouldn’t believe it but she had….. but that’s a story for another time. The Goth chic had gone out of my mind what with this new woman and my work was getting on top of me, I seem to remember. That was a hectic time in my life from a work point of view. One day the phone rang and when I picked it up there was dead silence followed finally by a quiet “it’s me”. I knew who “me” was immediately. I replied “hello” cautiously. She got straight to the point and calmly said “I want you to come around and fuck me”. Now I had been doing this other woman for some time now and but nevertheless my tool and I shortly found ourselves standing at the Goth chic’s front door. Does that make me a cad? I think it does but what can you do when you tool is running the show? I knocked at the door and she answered it shortly after standing there in her usual garb of black but with an extra piercing I noticed, this one through one nostril of her nose. She gestured to me to come in and we proceeded through the lounge room, (her flat mate was nowhere to be seen) and into her bedroom. Strange but certainly to the point as far as what I was there for. This woman, as I have said before, does not indulge in pleasantries or not with me anyway but I felt it wasn’t my place to start the conversation so I stood there, mouth shut. She shattered the silence with “I have a new piercing.” “Yes, I noticed” gesturing to and looking at her nose. “No, not there” she replied with a slightly annoyed and intolerant tone in her voice “here!” and unceremoniously and without any modesty (I love that, so slutty!) proceeded to pull up her dress and pull down the front of her knickers to exposed her naked bald twat (and magnificent it was) complete with piercing through one of her labia lips as she thrust her hips forward in pretence of displaying her piercing for me. My lust gauge went through the roof and steam would surely have poured out of my ears were it possible. I grabbed her and threw her on the bed. I think I detected a smile but it was difficult with this woman and I was to busy stripping off to take too much notice. She was silent but with a slightly bemused (Yes! She was showing some emotion!) “what is he going to do next” look on her face as she let me use her body for my lustful desires. She had loosened her (what turned out to be a) skirt and I ripped it off and it sailed through the air and across the room as I dragged off her panties to expose her lovely twat once more. She opened her legs for me and I stepped up as she lay there on the end of the bed with her legs sort of half up in the air and dangling. As much as I wanted to plunge my hot meat into her, her lovely twat was lying there plump and bald. Pathetic old git that I am, I dropped to my knees, I just had to lick and suck on her lovely young lips. The bloody piercing clacked against my teeth somewhat annoyingly and I had a good munch but only briefly as I resumed my tool’s triumphant campaign on the prize between her legs.

I took my tool in hand and avoiding her new piercing I pressed my tool between he twat lips, still wet with my saliva and drove it in, very satisfyingly, up to the hilt. Oooh, I had been wanting to do that for some time and it felt good.

You know that feeling when you can feel her vagina’s pressure on your tool, nice and tight and squeezing your knob and shaft like a friendly hand.

Dispelling the myth that guys can’t multitask, I ripped open her blouse to exposed her braless tits, gave them a good feel as I bent over her, my tool well and truly buried inside her snatch and felt her lovely little tits, pinching her nipples much to her delight judging by her gasps as I squeezed and kneaded her tiny mounds. Fwoar, I love tits. I returned to my main task, held her legs and thrust my hips into her, driving her back and forth on the bed, enjoying the view of her uniformly white soft skin all over her body. No sun tanning for this little Goth, her white skin was positively dazzling and her black hair contrasted brilliantly.

We had a lovely root and she was mostly expressionless except for a slight grimace due to the pain I suppose as I rooted like the animal I am. I’m not sure but I think it is her expressionless demeanour that I find so horny and her seemingly contradictory desire for me, a relative ancient guy and dirty old man to boot, to fuck her fanny until it is sore. I held her legs and concentrated on rooting her until, with sweat pouring off my old guy brow, I unloaded into her. I pulled out, trying to squirt cum onto her belly, sadly not very well. She told me “eew! Stop that its erky!” which made me strive even more to squeeze cum out of my spent meat. The viscous white cream formed up in a reasonably large knobbly glob that extended down slowly until the strand of goo holding it up finally broke sending it hurtling down to splat onto her stomach.

I wiped myself with her skirt (it was closest) and told her I would be back in a couple of weeks for more. “You think you will” she shouted as I disappeared. I went back after a couple of weeks and we had another nasty fuck. As I was getting up and wiping myself off she told me to come back on a certain day when her (female) flat mate would be there. I knew her flat mate was also a Goth as the mother had told me when I was trying to find this one. I agreed and left.

Our curiosity of the pending meeting with her flat mate made the time pass slowly for my cock and me until finally on the specified day we found ourselves knocking on their door not really knowing what to expect. Julie opened the door and told me as abruptly as always to come in. I walked into the lounge room and there standing was her room mate, decked out as you might expect, with dark clothing on, typical Goth style. I smiled at her and introduced myself. Without answering she said to Julie “oh, he’s disgustingly old!” with a quietly smiling sneer on her lips. I didn’t think I was that old but what the heck I didn’t care what they thought. Well, I did actually. I could only take so much of this negative sneering talk and it was getting to me. I let out a big sigh and said, “yeah, well nice meeting you” and turned to leave. The new chic quickly told me not to leave and said “no, don’t leave; I like it that you are disgustingly old”. That was encouragement in a negative sort of way and as damaged as my old guy ego was I decide to stay and see what eventuated. Julie’s flat mate (we’ll call her Maggie because of her black and white plumage and I can’t remember her real name for the life of me) said to me “so you’ve been fucking “Jules” have you?”. I replied “yes” with a slightly guilty and yet proud sounding tone. This little bitch was making me feel guilty and I didn’t even know her! “Aren’t you a little bit old for her?” she taunted me mercilessly. “I don’t remember her complaining” I replied defensively as I glanced over towards Julie. Julie almost smiled which made me feel a bit better and then she walked out of the room and into her bedroom. “Do you want to fuck both of us together?” Maggie asked somewhat unnecessarily. “I might, if you asked nicely” was my corny reply. I glimpsed Julie out of the corner of my eye as she reappeared from her bedroom stark naked, walking past me and into the bathroom. I followed her and watched her with her back to me adjusting the shower temperature, gazing at her gorgeous arse and her white skin. Maggie followed me into the bathroom and had already started to strip off as she passed me. Maggie sat down on the loo and peed unashamedly as I looked directly at her with a satisfied look on her face for such a long time. I took the hint and stripped off to stand there naked and stroking my meat in front of the gorgeous white bodies in front of me. Maggie finished her pee and stood up, her tits were larger than Julie’s but Julie’s shape was better. Maggie’s tits were largish and full and she had a tattoo on one breast and several on her arm. Julie had a tattoo that I hadn’t noticed before on her back just above her arse. I wanted to pee but I couldn’t now as my tool was almost fully erect. They both climbed into the shower and proceed to soap each other up. I was getting aroused big time. This was horny to watch. The soapy bubbles running down over their white skin, over their shapely curves and on down their legs as they stood there up against each other, rubbing their tits up against each other and then having the mother of all tonguing's. If I wanted them to invite me in I think I would have waited longer than I cared to so I stepped into the shower recess which was one of these relatively modern showers with just a sheet of toughened glass and no door and plenty of room for three people or more actually. They were still in their clinch and still tonguing each other, completely ignoring me as I rubbed up against the arse of one of them. I was in no mood to differentiate between the two when it came to female bodies. I just wanted to rub up against a female form and either one would do. I loved the way their bodies squished up against each other and the way the soap ran down their bodies when I applied it. I soaped them all over, shoulders, necks, tits arms, arses, between their legs, in their arse cracks. I couldn’t get to their pussies as they were busy rubbing their twats on each others thighs. I just felt them all over. My tool was feeling left out when they suddenly ceased their attention toward each other and turned on me. Their hands went everywhere, I suppose in retaliation. They were fighting over my tool initially but then seemed to come to a silent conclusion to simply share me around. I felt a hand grab hold of my tool and it wasn’t gentle at all. I didn’t really mind it rough but then someone else grabbed hold of my balls and as we guys know, balls and roughness are a whole different ball game (so to speak). The concern for the well being of my balls lessened somewhat as I felt a hand go between my buns and then a finger loitering around my arsehole tantalisingly and then I felt it penetrate me, which nearly made my ears pop. I am not sure how to describe the sensation. Was it pleasure or pain or excitement or fear or ….what? To add to the uncertainty I realised that it must have been Maggie as Julie was standing in front of me and Maggie was an unknown quantity so I was a little concerned. I was playing with Julie’s tits as I felt the finger withdraw from my arse hole with a sense of relief I continued to explore both of their bodies and they switched to and from my bits as I did so.

The games slowed and appeared to be over as we all grabbed towels and dried ourselves and I made sure both of their young bodies were really dried off properly. Maggie commented something like “ooo, he really is a dirty old man isn’t he” as I towelled up between her legs, gently but firmly rubbing up and down between her twat lips. She stood back and inspected me as I dried Julie, “Look at that disgusting gut and sagging skin”. That made me look! I thought to myself, “What sagging skin?!” I’ll admit to the gut, ….a very slight gut! But sagging skin?! “Bring that gut in here old man” Maggie demanded as she took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. My tool certainly didn’t have any wrinkly skin on it. It stood out long and hard, the knob purplish and shiny and the whole menacing lump of meat swinging from side to side as she led me into the bedroom. They gathered around me, looking up into my face as if looking up at their father and waiting for me to take the lead. Julie ran her hand through the hairs on my chest (she had done that on previous occasions) and Maggie fondled my arse yet. As I looked down at them I realised that I probably outweighed both of them combined and they seemed fascinated with my body. I took hold of Julie and laid her on the bed and spread her legs and told Maggie to lick her twat. Maggie didn’t have to be told twice and went to drop to her knees between Julie’s legs. I stopped her, bent her over from the waist and pushed her head down so she could access Julie’s twat and also so that I could now take Maggie from behind. Maggie caught on and grabbed both of Julie’s legs that were bent at the knees, pulled her face down between Julie’s lovely warm thighs (I remember the warmth of Julie’s thighs on the side of my face from our previous meetings) and started to lick and slurp her way around her gapping snatch. It looked awkward but she had the advantage of youth on her side and I needed to use all of the resources at my command to make sure I would last the afternoon out. I pulled Maggie’s waist and arse more upright as I needed to avoid bending my old guy knees as much as possible so that I could keep up my rooting of Maggie’s pussy for as long as possible. I pressed my tool into Maggie’s twat and slowly pushed it home, watching as I slid my shaft inexorably into her, until my groin met her buns and I couldn’t see my tool anymore. I took a good hold of her hips and rubbed my groin into her buns before withdrawing slightly and commencing a good steady rooting of Maggie as she continued to slurp away between her friend’s legs. Despite Maggie’s gruff personality, I quite liked her and her arse was very nice to gaze down at as my tool disappeared and reappeared glistening as I rooted her. I love seeing my tool partially embedded in my woman, the shaft framed by her buns. Sadly I got a little too excited too soon as I couldn’t control my lusting for this cheeky young wench and went into frenzy fucking mode, pounding into her and blowing into her shortly after. I emptied the contents of my tool and balls into her, pulling her into me and lifting her off the ground with my hands firmly locked around her hips ensuring that I was buried deep inside her, driving into her with two or three final muscle clenching desperate thrusts as I strained to give her every last drop. Julie looked disappointed that I hadn’t fucked her as well but I promised that I would make it up to her next time. As usual she didn’t say much and so I dressed and left, leaving them to clean themselves up.