*Please note that this story is only a work of fiction. It contains themes of reluctance/coercion and predatory behavior. If this causes you distress, I urge you to reach out to someone about it. All main characters involved are over the age of 18.
The clink of a coin hitting stainless steel causes me to raise my head from where I’ve been sitting, hunched up against the subway station wall. A sympathetic woman, cradling a purse in one hand and the fist of a child in the other looks back at me as she walks away. “Thank you” I say. My voice comes out cracked and rusty. I don’t have much cause to speak these days. I look into my tray to find a fresh two dollar coin winking under the putrid yellow light. It sits beside a 20 dollar bill and a handful of spare change. A pretty good haul by my standards. I should be able to buy a decent meal tonight. I draw my knees in further to my chest and survey my surroundings. This is a very busy place on a Monday evening. Tired workers enter and exit subway cars, minds set on getting home as soon as possible. This time of day is when I get my best money. People are worn out, more emotional. More likely to cut some slack for a homeless 20 year old girl.
It also helps that I’m not a drug addict. My skin isn’t sunken, sallow. My body isn’t hollow and used up. People see me and they can guess I’m not just going to spend their money on a packet of cigarettes and a bottle of vodka. Can’t say I blame the people that chose that path honestly, living like this is its own kind of hell. I, of course, wasn’t always homeless. I had a home, albeit, not a very good one. My mother was never there. A money and status chaser through and through. She never even noticed that I was neglected, she was that caught up in her job title as CEO of a peanut butter manufacturer. Fucking peanut butter. I don’t even like the stuff all that much. It’s sticky, icky, and gets caught on the roof of my mouth when I try to swallow it. My father eventually threw me out of the house claiming I was the reason why she was never home, which I like to hope was a lie. It doesn’t matter though, she hasnt sent for me. My father also seems to have moved on and I get to enjoy the long, cold nights of Sydney underground.
I’m contemplating the situation when I realize that someone is trying to engage me in conversation. I look up to see a man in his 60’s looking down at me with a kind smile. He has a rather fat tummy and his hair has receded right back to past his ears. He wears the typical gear of an older man. Comfortable shoes, khaki trouser shorts and a sweaty polo shirt. He speaks to me again.
“I said, do you have a place to stay tonight young missy?” I pause then shake my head, eyes wide. His smile grows wider before he asks, “would you like to come stay with me? It’s going to be an awfully cold night and I have a fireplace in my living room. You look like you could do with a bit more food too” he adds, licking his lips and looking at me absentmindedly, “starvation is not good for cute little dears like you. It’s such a waste.” Those words give me pause. What an odd thing to say to someone. I immediately feel a bit uncomfortable but then his easy smile calms me down.
“Yes please” I say. How could I refuse an offer so generous. His smile grows its widest at this and he extends his hand to me.
“Call me Mr Marten dear” He smiles. I take it and before I know it, I am standing in a little kitchen being made a sandwich by this man. He layers it in roast beef and cheese, giving me a generous dollop of mayonnaise to ‘fatten me up a bit.’ I eat it hungrily and when my eyes dart to his little fridge, he smiles and pulls out a tub of ice cream from the freezer compartment.
“Now, you can have some of this if you’ll let me feed you, little pet” He proposes. This takes me aback again and I frown. Something is definitely off about this kindly looking older man. Then I look at what flavor it is. Birthday cake. I love birthday cake.
“O-okay” I stammer. He reaches out his hand and rubs my shoulder.
“That’s a good girl. You are a very good girl” I smiled weakly at his compliment. He gets a little spoon, opens the container, takes a small scoop and brings it over to my face. “Open wide, pet” he rasps gently. I blush and open my mouth. He brings the spoon in and i suck the ice cream off the metal, licking the underside to get what I missed. This seems to set him off though I meant nothing by my actions.
“Ughhh” he groans softly, watching me intently. “You are very good at this, aren’t you?” I nod my head slowly, being drawn in by his words, his subtle charisma. He proceeds to feed me spoon after spoon of the ice cream, watching closely as I suck it up and swallow the sweet, creamy goodness. His breathing has grown heavy to the point that he’s practically panting.
Eventually I sigh and say, “I’m full Mr Marten.” He caresses my cheek and his hand lingers by my mouth where he wipes away a bit of ice cream and sucks it between his fat, pursed lips.
“Good girl” he pants. Then bonus veren siteler he hastily looks at his watch. “Oh my” He grunts in a fluster. “Won’t you look at the hour. I think it’s time we went to bed, little pet.” I frown again. His watch reads 7 pm. My heart begins to race nervously.
“Wha.. What do you mean, sir? It’s still so early and I’m not tired yet”
He looks at me warmly and says. “Mr Marten has been such a kind and generous old man to let little homeless girls into his house don’t you think? I think he deserves a little something back. Besides, it’s a good thing it’s early. Means we have so much time” I gulp at the implication of his words.
As my mind grasps the situation before me, I think about my options. I will not, under any circumstances, return to the street. I can’t bear that anymore. This old man is creeping me out a bit but he’s given me so much. A place to stay, food in my belly, kind words. I guess he really does deserve something in return. So when he closes all his blinds and leads me over to his reclining chair in the living room, I don’t resist. I stand there, stunned as he sits back in his old leather chair and pulls his pants down past his crotch. I’m startled when an aged and wrinkly but very lively, erect penis juts out of his underwear. I look up at his face to see him watching me through glazed eyes with that same gentle, reassuring smile on his face.
“I don’t have a lot of energy today, little pet, so I’m afraid you are going to have to do most of the work. Are you ok with that?” he pants. I feel like I’ve stepped outside of myself and am hovering somewhere up in the air between the ugly mustard curtains. I feel my head nod. “Now take off those silly clothes of yours” He says with a slightly irritated edge to his voice. He quickly catches himself and adds with a sweet tone, “please.” I obey and once I’m standing naked before him, his disgusting cock seems to have grown another inch. “So young..” he pants, “so firm, So fresh…come here now my sweet and climb onto daddy’s lap”
I walk over and clamber onto him, Straddling him per his instruction so that my legs are on either side of his hips and my knees dig into the soft leather. I feel vulnerable, uncomfortable. He rasps out breaths as he runs his wrinkly, calloused hands over my body, taking extra time for my breasts. I blush again. I was always so jealous of the other women my age for having cup sizes that ranged all the way up to D whereas my boobs can barely fill an A cup. He doesn’t seem to mind at all however because he then puts the head of his cock at my opening and without warning, pushes me down to sit on his lap, fully impaling me on his hard rod. I gasp out in fright and surprise as he fills me. “Aurrghhhh!” he moans and throws his head back. He takes me in his arms and pulls me close where I can feel the rapid beating of his heart against my naked chest.
He shudders and his hands shake against my skin as he tries to steady his breathing. “You are such a tight fit, little pet” he groans, “daddy is so pleased!” I mistakenly think he’s come already based on the way he jerks, groans, caresses and squeezes me but i must be wrong because he soon breathes, “now little pet, I need you to start bouncing gently up and down on daddys cock ok?” I nod and am about to start when he grasps me and adds, “but please, be gentle and don’t let my poor withered cock slide from you. Your body is so alive! So invigorating. It makes me feel young again”
So with that I start gently bouncing on his cock. We are both panting furiously and the old springs of the chair are squeaking in protest under the weight of two people. With every bounce, his cock goes all the way up inside me and my mouth forms a silent O as I’m penetrated again and again. He squeezes my breasts or clutches the chair for dear life and I ride him until he stiffens and I sense his end. My instincts cause me to push down deep into his lap, drawing his cock right up into me and holding it there as he shudders and moans and cums deep inside me, holding my hips against him in his shaking hands. It is at that moment that I realize that he didn’t wear a condom and I can feel his thick cum beginning to leak down my leg. “Ohh you are an angel from heaven” he groans, still holding me firmly against his twitching body. My clit is mashed into his hairy groin and the stimulation is causing me to tingle a little against my will.
As if sensing his opportunity to entrap me further, he pulls my body to him and begins to massage my clit with his thick, quivering finger. I gasp and flop against him like a boned fish. He uses his free hand to wrap around my body and stroke my hair, whispering wetly in my ear, “that’s right, little pet. You did so well for daddy, now daddy is going to give you a reward.” His finger grows slick as my body begins to heat up and I feel my own reluctant wetness. His cock is still buried deep inside me and the contractions from my unwilling arousal cause it to twitch and grow bit by bit. “That feels bedava bahis good doesn’t it dear?” He grunts.
I can’t help it but whisper “yes.” The heat caused by his relentless finger mashing my clit and the ever present stiffness of his cock within my walls is drawing me to the edge. I lift my head and take in the face of this creepy old man who I met only today. The smirk of a predator who has caught and claimed his prey. The lustful twinkle in his eyes. My eyes go to his smiling mouth of yellow teeth and watch as they utter the words.
“Now cum for me” He snarls. It’s as if a switch goes off in my body and my wrongful pleasure reaches its peak, spills over the edge in a rush. I tense up and explode, shuddering and spasming.
Mr marten caresses my back and watches me carefully as I climax messily on top of him. “You did well” he assures me softly as I flop against him again to catch my breath. “You did so well.” After a minute, I’m about to climb off his lap when he pushes me back down onto his cock. “Rule one. Never climb off daddy’s baby maker until daddy says so. Got it, pet?” he says firmly. I’m taken aback by his tone of voice but then I nod. “Good girl” he smiles and kisses me on the cheek. “Now, go get my medication dear, that was quite a work out for me”.
”where is it?” I ask and my voice comes out as little more than a squeak.
“In the top drawer of the orange cabinet in the kitchen. Fetch it quick, there’s a dear” I slowly rise up onto my knees feeling his cock slide wetly from my canal before flopping onto his stomach with a moist slap. I take a moment to survey it again. It’s slick with his cum and my wetness and is slowly softening in the cool evening air. I crawl backwards off him and turn to go, feeling his lecherous eyes on my body as I make my way to the kitchen in a daze.
Later that night, I help him into his bed per his request. He says his knees are tired and he gets me to massage his muscles gently. After watching me bend over to arrange his shoes neatly by the bed, he gets excited again and requests that I ride him slowly as he lays on his back admiring my youthful figure. He complains about how upset he is that he doesnt have the energy today to bend me over the sink and fuck me like a real gentleman should. I know that I owe this man a debt I might never be able to repay so I must do whatever is within my power to let him know how grateful I am to be able to have a place off the street. Despite my hesitation and general disgust for this man’s behavior, I find myself walking over to the bed to where he lays on his back, blanket tucked up to his neck, looking at me intently. I can’t fail to notice the way his erection tents the bedsheets. I found out later that one of the medications I fed him earlier was viagra.
Several times he ends up waking me up through the night, shining his bedside lamp on an angry red cock weeping precum. I satisfy him once with my mouth, trying not to gag as I swallow his foul, salty, sweaty cum and twice later in my now tender pussy when sucking doesnt work. By the morning, I’m deep in an exhausted, unhappy sleep, cum covering my crotch and smeared across my lips and breasts. Red marks on my soft flesh from where he got too excited and grabbed my body too hard. He sleeps the contented sleep of the dead next to me, relishing in his new girl. That day, when I woke up in the early afternoon, I got up to make some food, realizing how hungry I was. I forget where I am, thinking in my daze that I’m back home at my mothers house. I make myself another roast beef sandwich and sit on the counter to eat it.
Half way through I hear a soft tut tutting coming from the dark corridor. He emerges and the memories come flooding back. “It seems my little pet has decided to fix herself a meal” he tilts his head and smirks at me. “Silly thing. Don’t you know that daddy needs feeding too?” I begin to panic. What’s he going to do to me? I bring my hand up to my tender nipple where he bit it too hard while suckling on it at 1am.
“Uh.. um..would you like a sandwich too?” I stammer. He considers my reaction for a moment before smiling again, the skin around his face bunching up like rolls in a carpet. A greasy carpet.
“Oh no thank you sweetness” he assures, “but i would like to try some of this.” He comes over to where I’m sitting on the counter and with a sudden and almost violent movement, pulls my panties right down my legs. I try to close my thighs but he stops me with his hands. “Uh uh uh! Open wide little one. Don’t you want to know how good it feels?” My hesitation is enough of an answer for him and he gently pulls my legs apart, savoring the time it takes to slide my pants down my legs and off my feet. He crushes them to his nose for a moment, breathing in the lingering warmth and scent of my body. I notice with slight satisfaction the immediate reaction it gives him as his pajama pants begin to strain against his throbbing erection.
He somehow ignores it and brings his face to my pussy, a look of a lion deneme bonus cornering a deer edging his face.
I have a sudden rush of clarity in my sleep deprived state. “N-no” I stutter. He looks up at me from where he’s on his knees on the ground and the expression on his face is one of hurt and betrayal. He starts to gently caress my inner thigh and I tense up. He realizes I’m serious so he finally gets up and steps away.
“I was afraid this might happen…” he says quietly to himself. Then he looks up at me and he has a strange glint in his eye. “Well ok then,” he smiles at me, “how about smoothies?” It is then that I make a fatal mistake. A mistake that ultimately seals my fate.
“Ok” I say, glad that he has given up so easily and moved on. He turns away and I miss the triumphant look on his face. The face of one who has won the battle. I’m too busy eating my sandwich and watching cartoons in the lounge to see him crush up the various pills and put them in my drink.
Once the glass has been drained, he sits beside me on the couch and watches looney tunes with me, putting his hand down on the couch beside me, no longer grasping for me. I relax a little, laughing as Roadrunner outwits Coyote once again. I think that I have won, fended off the predator, finally gained a bit of control in the situation. It’s about 20 minutes later where my mind begins to swim. I’m having trouble focusing on the television and Mr marten’s hand that is now stroking up and down my leg is beginning to send electricity through my body to my core. It feels like a battery is getting powered up with every stroke. I feel strange. Is it because I didn’t get much sleep last night?
My heart rate is increasing and I feel my face flush. When I give a soft groan, Mr Marten turns to look at me. When he sees my glazed over face and flushed body, he chuckles. He brings his hand a little further up my leg, moving it slowly towards the place he most wants to be. “I want you so badly,” he says to me and there’s a definite edge of need in his voice but It feels like he’s speaking to me from the other end of a long tunnel. When I give no immediate response of horror or denial, he continues, bringing his hand up further still. “You are special my dear, that’s why I chose you. Women my age are filthy, sad, decrypt old bags, washed up and barren, worn down by life’s relentless torment. But you my dear, you are young. Fresh. Untainted.” He brings his face into my neck and breathes in my scent deeply. “Oh god” he moans. “Please!” He implores, “please, I must have you!” He begins planting kisses up and down my neck wetly.
I begin to pant and moan as the fire inside me begins to rage, his exploring fingers and mouth only adding fuel to the blaze. The truth of the matter is that I have never felt needed before. Not by my parents, not by anyone. Despite my disgust for this man, my animal instincts are beginning to take over. I’m young, fertile, my body is at the stage where it is craving a mate and it’ll take whatever it can get. “Uh! Yes!” I groan. The deal has been sealed. The next few days go by in a drugged stupor. His hands are always all over me. He takes as much viagra as his doctor will allow, remaining hard for hours at a time. He bends me over, fucking me from behind, grasping my breasts for support. He’ll be on the toilet waiting for his shriveled bowls to release and get a hard on instead, pulling me roughly onto his lap. He even pounds me in missionary sometimes and I lay back, legs spread wide, taking in the wheezing, panting, sweaty old bugger rocking into me. Tilting my perspective, I can sometimes imagine him as a young, attractive man with rippling biceps and a chiseled jawline. I close my eyes and can almost see it. It is, however, that moment that I open my eyes to see the aging body that I feel myself tensing up and cumming violently at the sheer humiliation of it all. The mate I have chosen for myself is old enough to be my grandfather.
There’s no way I will get pregnant, I think. This guy can barely even muster up enough stamina to last 5 minutes. Sure enough, he stops and says, panting furiously, “I need you to get on top now, little pet. Daddy’s knees are tired again.” It’s always his knees I huff to myself, frustrated. We go over to the recliner like we often end up doing, he sits back heavily and I climb onto his cock like a good girl. He is feeling particularly affectionate today and brings my head down to take part in a deep, sloppy kiss. When he first started doing this, I would close my mouth firmly but he wouldn’t stand for it. Now it’s tongue kissing or no dinner. My body is feeling hot today and compulsion drives me to wrap my limbs around his body, feeling the hot slick flesh of my pussy grasp his cock like a milking glove.
That’s why he calls my pussy ‘daddy’s little cum milker.’ Sometimes I’ll just be sitting back reclining on the couch reading a magazine and he’ll come crawling over to stick his face into my crotch. I will pretend he isn’t there and continue reading. He loves that. It is, however, when he pulls my panties down and starts to dine on my pussy that I find it hard to act indifferent. I often end up on my back on the cushions, being treated to an eager creampie from the humping, thrusting bag of wrinkly flesh on top of me.