Old Mrs. Weber Seduces Young Pico

Pico's mother, who despite everything still saw in him the innocent child sent him unsuspectingly into the next adventure. She had become quite weary because the Ambuschs had been living with them for weeks and the end of this siege was not in sight. She prayed repentantly, shaken and ashamed, because her house had been degenerated into a veritable sink of sinning. The Ambuschs, that were her friend Sara and her husband, fucked night after night so devotedly and loudly that she almost couldn't go back to sleep. She almost couldn't fall asleep again because of her palpitating heart. Monika had nothing but nonsense in her mind and also worried her ever since Anna Maria knew that she was playing more than just childish games with the two girls, more than just childish games. She had noticed with rising displeasure how Monika had seduced the two girls, aged 11 and 8. She listened at the door to the girls' room in the evenings and heard the giggles when Monika lay with the girls and they all sinned lustfully. Pico, too, had to to get his mind off things, had to work hard during the day, so that he would not suffer so much at night from his excess erections at night. Make yourself useful, she used to say to him, don't just stand there! She thought he could, for example, help out the old Mrs. Weber next door a little bit with the shopping, for example. When he heard that! Shopping, for the 13‐year‐old a degrading duty.

In fact, in the next few days, the widow Rizzi said to the old woman shuffling by, "My son will be happy to help you gladly to carry your purchase bags, Mrs. Weber!", and already he was paired up. Mrs. Weber was a very old woman, surely already about a hundred years old, Pico was sure of that. She seemed to be very frail and usually walked leaning on her cane, and when she had a lot to carry, she was really poor. At the same time she was a little strange in the mind and giggled with every sentence. Reluctantly, Pico went along and took the parcels from her. Her breath smelled sternly of alcohol as she nodded delightedly and said she would give him something for it, hihihi; he was happy about the prospect of earning some coins.

So Pico went shopping with the old woman several times a week. She came shuffling down the stairs and through the long hallway to the Rizzi's apartment and knocked on the window with her cane; then Pico went out and accompanied her. It was really not a great accomplishment, but he was glad of the money. When they arrived back at her apartment, he usually stopped in the doorway and handed her the things inside, because her dark apartment was horribly dirty, smelly and frightened him.

Later she offered him cold water, he drank and only saw afterwards how dirty the glass was and felt terribly disgusted. He had to but sit down, the old Weber moved the the porcelain bowl with the 6‐month‐old Christmas cookies closer and told him this and that, poking and prodding him with her crooked fingers and giggling all the time. Pico contorted his face into a forced smile and took another cookie; the giggling went on endlessly until Pico became restless and she finally gave him the coins.

The next few times it was even worse, the giggling and poking went on again, Mrs. Weber puffing and fetching a bottle of eggnog from the cupboard beside the door and poured two small glasses in. Pico shook his head, so she drank them both, and then later he got his carrying wages.

Each time this procedure repeated itself, and Pico slowly got used to its peculiarities, meanwhile remained almost casually sit. He endured the giggling and being poked with the thought of the pocket money and suppressed his tendencies to flee. Mrs. Weber was a funny old woman, rather twisted and tactless. His panic disappeared with time when she patted him on his thigh or accidentally tapped his fly with her finger. She was just not right in the mind, but harmless and if she had to grab him, then she should just; the main thing was that the cash register was right. Sometimes Pico would get cocky and carefully sip the eggnog. Mrs. Weber also got cocky sometimes and tapped more and more often as if by chance against his fly.

Every day the same, again an eggnog, the giggling and puffing did not stop today at all! It was a hot summer day and Mrs. Weber was sweating terribly under her worn summer dress, which was quite dirty and threadbare and gave an unintentionally generous view of her emaciated breasts, or rather the wrinkled remnants that had once were breasts, offered. While Pico dutifully drank his eggnog, she shuffled into the next room to change her clothes. After a short while, she came back, wearing a similarly scuffed house dress. The two or three buttons that were supposed to hold it together in front were very unreliable and gave the view of her naked, withered body. Now she was not so hot, the old Weber lied, and shuffled back to the table again. Pico sent up a cleansing prayer to St. Theresaand resolved to stop staring under Mrs. Weber's dress.

She sat down opposite him, but not chastely and demurely like most of the women he knew, but grinning and wide‐legged, like the market women in old paintings, and left deliberately the dress open a little, enjoying his dismayed and bewildered glances at her wrinkled breasts and at the gray ripples between her emaciated, wrinkled thighs. She giggled confusedly again about the girls and the boys, tapped her cleft with an index finger and then again on his pants, which bulged out unseemly. Pico remained sitting as if nailed and could not take his eyes off her body; he quickly quickly got up and left, ran the last few steps up to the apartment and hid himself in his bed. Prayed sobbing after masturbating, begging God and St. Theresa and all the saints for forgiveness because he was such a weak and sinful man, because he had become so aroused at Mrs. Weber's, because he was constantly looking at her gray dimpled cleft, Amen!

After the next purchase, Mrs. Weber sat down after the third glass of eggnog, moved closer to him on the bench closer, puffing Pico continuously in the thigh and laughed giggling, such a crunchy boy like him would have certainly many girlfriends, giggle giggle giggle! Her ragged dress was front again completely open and attracted his eyes magically. That made him very embarrassed, cookies were also no longer there, only the glass eggnog before his nose. Pico did not know how to hide his stiff little one, where to put his all‐too‐big hands and played for distraction with the shot glass.

Mrs. Weber giggled and told Pico to drink, he felt incredibly embarrassed because she kept pinching and groping his thighs, pinched and groped, her finger sometimes exactly on his little one and he didn't know if she was provoking his hard‐on and his horniness or if it happened purely by chance. Her favorite topic was him and the girls from his street, well, with them you've probably already done I don't know what, giggle, giggle, giggle! Pico could do absolutely nothing against the fact that his cock became even stiffer and his ears burned hot. Maybe drink the eggnog.

It immediately poked him in the brain, at the second sip he had to cough spasmodically and Mrs. Weber patted Pico on the back, giggled endlessly and again felt his thighs, while he desperately tried to hide his hard‐on. Mrs. Weber tapped again with a finger on his shorts, giggled and tapped again teasingly against his bulge. Yes, yes, the girls actually only want that, hihihi! Thereby she stroked her emaciated thighs and pointed grinning at her gray‐hairy cunt.

Pico remained sitting as if paralyzed, blinking at her nakedness. When she again tapped his hard‐on directly, he felt hot Horniness rising in his abdomen. In a reflex of embarrassment he downed the booze, immediately feeling the liberating Dizziness rise. Yes‐yes, and the girls want actually that, too, hihihi! she giggled and grinned, running her fingertip across the cleft, and Pico stared at this finger and almost burst with horniness. Mrs. Weber poured again, drank another glass of eggnog and then said, giggling, that boys like him surely had a lot in his pants, hihihi, and again her hand her hand nudged his thigh, his crotch, his hard‐on. He drank his eggnog much too quickly and noticed how he was now neatly dizzy from the alcohol.

Even later, Pico would not have been able to say why he had remained stiff as a board at that time and not run away, away from this old hag, who was now pouring him the next glass of eggnog and kept chattering that the boys liked it as well as the girls too, hihihi! Pico was paralyzed; although he wanted to run away, he remained motionless while she continued to giggle her insinuations. All boys have a a stiff dick, hihihi, her hand suddenly slid along his thigh, from down along his thigh, from below into his pants, and with the dickie they all like to play, hihihi! Panic seized him, when she now completely unexpectedly touched his cock! He wanted to jump up and still remained sitting as if paralyzed. Mrs. Weber pushed up the gym shorts a little, clutched firmly Pico's cock and triumphantly pulled it out of his pants.

Oh God, Holy Theresa, what was he going to do now!?

Pico watched her grin, for an endless thousandth of a second, then she licked her lips and jerked her wrist a few times briefly and deftly from her wrist; almost immediately a hot jet shot up and she quickly withdrew her hand. She laughed, pushed the edge of her pants all the way up and watched unabashedly while Pico spurted his semen into the air and onto his thighs with a racing heartbeat. Mrs. Weber watched his throbbing spasm with a gloating throbbing cramp. Pico would have jumped up, run away, would have preferred to be dead; but it squirted, the semen dripped onto Mrs. Weber's hand, which had seized his cockshaft again. She bent forward greedily and short‐sightedly, rubbing it now and then with a firm jerk that it once again squirted horny and giggled, giggled time and time again: "That's fine, hihihi! So is it really fine!".

Pico was still sitting there as if paralyzed, lying half sunk back on the worn out sofa and felt that his cock, which Mrs. Weber was clutching, was still hard and stiff, that he was still very aroused inside and helplessly at her mercy. She pulled and tugged him up by one leg, until he was lying on her thighs, adjusted him until he was lying crosswise on her half‐naked lap. She giggled, she knew that all boys like that, hihihi! and continued to masturbate further his dick. She chattered about Fritz and Peter, who had also been with her, hihihi! and liked her to make them squirt... let them squirt, yes yes, those two! Curious horniness conquered his fear, willingly he lay there and allowed everything, wondered about her strength when she pulled his pants down over his knees, giggling.

She squeezed and stroked his cock and testicles, Pico felt the deliciously hot rising arousal and surrendered like a sacrificial lamb, he spread his thighs wide, stretching out his stiff boy against her willingly. Skillfully she rubbed and masturbated him chatting further – ... and then your sister Monika, who was really interested in everything – Mrs. Weber giggled again and murmured, murmured that Monika had often lain like this on her lap! In his imagination a praying Monikatheresa figure appeared who lay naked on Mrs. Weber's lap and immediately his cock twitched steeply upwards. His sister Monika, On Mrs. Weber's lap!

That's right, my little one, hihihi! she giggled and now began to downright to masturbate. Pico stared excitedly at the hand that was masturbating him and felt his naked buttocks rhythmically pressed against her frizzy hair. Hihihi, the old woman went on chattering about Monika, all sorts of things had already happened! And she, the Monika, had wriggled, she didn't want to stop! Giggling and cackling, she let the image of naked Monika in front of his inner eye, chattering about labia and clit and how the Monika squirmed with horniness. When in her murmur Monika wriggled under her jerking hand and against the finger that the old woman pressed into her vagina.

Pico had to squirt instantly.

Mrs. Weber giggled merrily as a few drops splashed onto her hand. She squeezed and squeezed the cock and palpated the glans as the squirting and erection subsided.

Now only was his inner torpor easing as well. Although the cock still throbbed and some drops agonizingly slowly came, he jumped up and ran out, not paying attention to the drops of semen that ran down his thighs and ran hurriedly into the apartment. Pico was almost ashamed to death and never again went shopping with Mrs. Weber. His mother noticed that something was wrong, but Pico kept silent and she did not ask.

When he jerked off at night, he kept seeing Mrs. Weber in front of him, felt her fingers around his cock, felt her hand jerking and saw her greedy eyes watching him squirt. He saw Peter and Fritz and Monika alternately lying on her lap and squirming hornily back and forth – oh God, oh Theresa! She was sinful because she had touched him hornily, and he was sinful because he got horny and squirted into her hand, twice, Mother of God! Had happily squirted, twice, Mother of God help us poor sinners, Amen!

Only after some time did he stop thinking so intensely about Mrs. Weber.

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