Rain and Old Hands

The rain hammered the windows of the tiny roadside diner like it was trying to wash away all pretense. I sat at the corner table, soaked from where the taxi had dumped me off, and I couldn't take my eyes off the driver who'd decided to wait out the storm right along with me. He was pushing seventy, gray-haired, with deep lines carved around his eyes, but those eyes held such hungry attention that I was already wet between my legs.

"Not cold, pretty thing?" he asked in a low, gravelly voice, setting down two coffees and sliding into the seat across from me. His name was Victor.

"Not anymore," I said, licking my lips. "Your look alone's got me burning up, Victor."

He smirked, reaching out like he was fixing a strand of hair stuck to my cheek. His fingers grazed my skin—dry, warm, with rough calloused pads. I shivered. The want hit me so hard I squeezed my thighs together under the table.

"You always look at your passengers like that?" I whispered, not breaking eye contact.

"Only the ones who make my cock hard the second I see 'em," he said flat out, no smile. His voice dropped lower. "And you, Lena, look at me like you want an old man's dick buried in you right here."

The words scorched me. I felt my nipples straining against my wet blouse. Under the table, his knee pressed into mine. I didn't pull away. Instead, I spread my legs a little wider.

"Maybe I do," I breathed. "Rain's coming down hard. Nobody's walking in."

Victor didn't wait. His hand slid under the table, landed on my knee, then crept slowly up my soaked skirt. His fingers found the edge of my panties, pushed them aside, and plunged straight into my hot, already dripping cunt. I let out a soft gasp, gripping the edge of the table.

"Fuck, you're so wet..." he muttered, working two thick fingers inside me. "Dripping like a whore for an old man already, huh?"

"Yeah..." I moaned, spreading my legs wider. "Deeper, Victor... please."

He finger-fucked me right there at the table, slow, with wet squelching sounds. The coffee went cold. The rain drummed on the roof. I bit my lip to keep from crying out while his thumb circled my swollen clit in slow, deliberate strokes. The orgasm hit me out of nowhere—my legs trembled, my cunt clenched around his fingers, and I came with a quiet whimper, staring straight into his eyes.

"Good girl," he whispered, pulling his hand out and licking his fingers right in front of me. "Now follow me."

We got up. He led me down a narrow hallway behind the counter, to a tiny storage room stacked with boxes and an old couch. The door clicked shut. Victor pressed me against the wall immediately, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my panties down in one rough pull. I heard his belt unbuckle. His heavy, hot cock slapped against my wet pussy.

"You want to feel an old man pound you?" he asked, dragging the head through my slick folds.

"Yes... fuck me, Victor. Hard."

He drove in with one powerful thrust. I cried out—his cock was thick, veined, filling me to the absolute hilt. Victor started moving slow and deep, each stroke grinding me into the wall. His big hands kneaded my tits through my blouse, fingers pinching my nipples. I moaned, not holding back.

"God, this young pussy's so tight... hot and wet..." he growled in my ear. "Take this old cock, Lena... come on, squeeze me."

I squeezed. Every time he bottomed out against my cervix, his gray pubic hair ground against my clit. He sped up, hammering me with short, sharp strokes. The sound of wet flesh filled the cramped space. I was already close to my second orgasm when he suddenly pulled out.

"On your knees," he rasped.

I dropped obediently. His thick, slick cock was right in front of my face. I took him in my mouth immediately, swallowing as deep as I could. Victor grabbed a fistful of my hair and fucked my throat—not rough, but deep. Saliva ran down my chin, dripped onto my blouse.

"That's it... suck grandpa's cock... such a good little slut," he groaned, watching my lips stretch around his shaft.

I licked his balls, then took him back in my mouth, working my tongue along the head. He was trembling. I felt his thighs tense up.

Victor hauled me up, spun me to face the wall, bent me over, and slammed back into my pussy from behind. Now he fucked me properly hard, his hips slapping against my wet ass. One hand found my clit, the other squeezed my breast.

"Come on my old cock, Lena... let me hear you scream..."

I screamed. The orgasm was so intense my knees buckled. My cunt pulsed, flooding his cock with my juice. Victor roared, drove into me a few more brutal times, then yanked out. Hot, thick cum splashed across my back, over my ass, dripping down between my cheeks. He came for a long time, growling and gripping my hip.

We stood there, breathing hard. The rain was still pouring outside. Victor ran his palm gently over my sweat-and-cum-slicked back.

"Stick around for another coffee?" he asked with a hoarse grin.

"Only if you fuck me again just like that," I said, turning around and kissing his gray lips.