"Naomi's Coming"

by Julius
copyright 2002



The back doorbell chimed a second time and then a third. Grumbling quietly Frank climbed the basement stairs to answer it. Gathering his anti-salesman aura about him, he opened the door and said, absolutely nothing.

"What a dish!" he thought. "Yes?" he said, after some delay.

"I've come to paint your stairs," said the dish.

After several exchanges the answers came. Frank hadn't been told or didn't remember being told that Naomi was coming to do some tole painting on the risers of the basement stairs. Frank's stairs, red carpeted treads and black painted risers. He'd redecorated the stair-well and was very proud of his work. Seemingly his daughter Joan, and Naomi from next door, had decided the risers were perfect for Naomi to practice her tole painting on.

Frank came very close to telling Naomi to go away and take her paints with her. His stairs needed no twiddly flowers painting on them. But Naomi had big tits and Frank was a sucker for big tits so he let her in.

Widowed Frank pretty much lived downstairs and his divorced daughter, Joan, lived upstairs. Sometimes he ate upstairs with her and the laundry room was downstairs but all in all they kept pretty much to themselves. The house was Joan's really so Frank thought maybe the stairs were too.

Half an hour later Naomi was busy with brushes and paints on the top riser. Frank had made coffee and was trying to decide which view of Naomi he liked best. From upstairs he could gaze at the generous swell of her breasts and the considerable cleavage between them. From downstairs her short skirt allowed him the sight of the backs of her bare thighs. There seemed to be any number of reasons to climb and descend his stairs and pretty soon Frank decided that the tole painting of stair risers was a very important part of house decorating.

Naomi realised that she was the cause of his journeys up and down stairs but she didn't mind. She'd liked Frank from the moment he'd opened the door. Where was the harm in bringing a little sparkle into his eyes?




Next morning Frank opened the door at the first ring. He decided that Naomi was every bit as dishy as he remembered.

He made the coffee and she set about the second riser. He told her he liked the painting she'd done the day before and she said that she was glad he liked it. He asked if she'd like to have the coffee in the kitchen.

He listened while she told about the couch potato husband who took her for granted and Frank thought the man a fool. Then she listened to a man who was lonely and thought him very sweet. They independently and silently decided it was a great shame he was old enough to be her grandfather.

With the morning half gone Naomi had finished the third riser and had asked Frank to come and see how it looked so far. He came to the foot of the stairs and admired her painting and her legs and told her, quite without thinking, that he very much envied herhusband.

Her tears took her by surprise. He was at a loss for what to do but slowly climbed the stairs and put an arm round her shoulders. She turned and clung to him and sobbed. It was a long time since anyone had held her. His erection delighted him and made him feel ashamed, both at the same time. It was a long time since he'd held a woman and it felt wonderful, the magic mix of soft and firm, the smell of her hair, of soap, of some subtle perfume. She felt his hardness against her and smiled amid her tears. Men went on being animals forever it seemed!

Neither slept too well that night. She lay next to her husband feeling lonely and when she finally slept it was to dream and it was of Frank that she dreamed, his gentleness, his hand stroking her hair, his soothing words, his sadness that he couldn't ease hers.

Frank lay awake and dreamed by turns. Yes, he thought of thighs and cleavage but he thought too how warm and soft she'd felt in his arms and the glow he'd felt as he tried to console her. His erection returned. He got out of bed, he'd never sleep now. He headed for the stairs on his way to make a hot chocolate. Half way up in the the dim light he stopped and gazed at the newly painted flowers and thought about her. What a shame, someone so young and soft and lovely being stuck with that doltish slob!

He was half surprised when she arrived next morning, just minutes after his daughter had left for the office. Her crying and his consoling might well have persuaded her not to come. He thought she looked a little flushed and nervous.

Naomi was nervous. She'd showered and taken extra care with her hair. She'd dabbed perfume here and there. She planned to surprise Frank this morning and, having made or half made these decisions, she was as nervous as a kitten.

She took her paints and brushes to the stairs and said "Yes please," to Frank's offer of coffee. He stood at the top while the coffee perked, watching her. He was enjoying the effects of her bra. It was one of those push-up affairs, too small and bought as part of an ill fated attempt to lure her husband away from the baseball. She'd worn it that morning for the first time in a year and she'd worn it for Frank.

Frank wanted to tell her how lovely she looked, how exquisite her breasts were. His eyes raised to meet hers and he actually blushed as he realised she'd caught him ogling. She swallowed, her mouth had gone dry. Her heart was fluttering, it seemed, in her throat.

They drank their coffee at the kitchen table again. She heard the drier clunk to a standstill and Frank got up and headed downstairs saying "Better empty the drier or else .... ". She wished her man would make a few more efforts like this.

When he returned to the foot of the stairs she was back at work. He gasped, she was knelt on a step apparently unaware of him. Her short skirt showed quite plainly that she wore no panties. The words, 'She's bare-assed!' bounced around in his head.

"What do you think?" he heard her ask.

What did he think he wondered. "What do I think?" he echoed himself. Then followed with "I'm not sure you'd like to hear what I think."

With total disbelief she heard her voice say, "I think you think you'd like to fuck me."

"I think I would" he thought. "I know I would" he said aloud, not sure he wasn't dreaming this.

"It took a lot of courage to leave off my panties this morning. Come up here, quickly, before I lose mynerve."

He moved slowly up the stairs and reached out. His hand trembled and then settled on the soft warmth of her buttock. "You realise I'm old enough to ........"

She cut in with, "You're gentle and kind and the last couple of days around you made me feel wanted and feminine ... and that's a beautiful novelty for this girl."

A near sleepless night had led her to this point, her need and her hunger, her loneliness. His warmth and gentleness had woken feelings in her that had slept for so very long. Suddenly the thought had popped into her head, the realization that she'd love it and that he'd love it. She worried a little that he might not be able to perform but why not try at least? So she'd risen early and showered and dressed as she'd dressed for her first visit. Then the fidgeting wait at the window for his daughter Joan to leave for work and the last-minute, impulsive idea to wriggle out of her panties. Then standing on his doorstep with the cool of the morning playing under her skirt; she'd almost run home. But here she was, flashing her bare ass at this sweet old guy and he was touching that ass with his hand.

A wonderful thing happened to Frank when he touched her ass ... he seemed to forget his years. He put his other hand on her and bent and kissed her gently at the top of her cleavage where fine, fine blonde hairs swirled at the bottom of her spine. She shivered. His cock reared, he ran his hands, oh so gently over her ass, touching, barely daring to believe. Her skin's sweet perfection made his heart ache.

"Are you sure about this?" his voice asked, husky with his nervousness.

"I'm sure." she murmured and moved her ass left and right.

She stood, turned and sat on the step in front of him. She reached for his belt and began unbuckling. It was too long since she'd done this for a man. She unhooked his waistband and slid the zipper down. His pants dropped to his ankles. He wore blue cotton briefs, Frank looked delightfully fashionable. The straining bulge made her take a deep breath, she needn't have worried it seemed. She hooked her fingers into the top of his briefs and peeled them down. His beautiful cock sprang free. 'He's beautiful,' she thought. "He's beautiful!" she said.

Frank's voice said "And he's very glad to see you." and Frank didn't believe he'd said it.

Naomi stood up again and turned back to face upstairs. Then she bent over, oh so slowly, and the invitation might as well have been shouted. Frank looked down at that wonderful erection and at her sweet ass and simply bent down the former and thrust gently below the latter.

She was wet, slick and wet. Need and anticipation seemed to be all she'd needed. She felt the head of his cock nuzzling at her and she bent a little further and pressed back a little and he simply slid into her. The proverbial hot knife into butter. But this wasn't cruel or sharp, this was blunt and hot and gloriously insistent. She grabbed at a step as his thrust pushed her off balance. She breathed an "Oh yesssss!" as he slithered into her heat with his.

How she'd missed this sweet filling, this scratchingof her deepest itches. Weeks, how many? No, months surely, since that clumsy couch-dweller had plumbed her depths. And he'd been too drunk that last time to function or to satisfy her properly.

She felt her blouse going up at the back and one by one the hooks of her bra being undone. Clever fingers those, she thought. As the last one let go she felther heavy breasts fall free and his hands slid round over her ribs. All the while she was blissfully filled with him, every slightest movement they made told of his presence inside her. His hands cupped her breasts and lifted them as if checking their weight and ripeness. Forefingers and thumbs took her nipples and gently squeeze-pulled. Two stabs of pleasure shot downwards into the hot glow in her belly. Half reflex, half intention, she gripped his cock and he grunted and ground himself against her ass.

Then he brought her to climax with slow thrusts and gentle twirling of her nipples. She didn't scream or thrash about, she simply boiled over. His cock withdrew almost all the way and then he thrust into her that last time and she just came, filling with heat and her entire body seemed to sigh in pure joy. He didn't come, he just sweetly eased her to the edge and over it.

Now, weak kneed and with tears flowing gently shewaited for whatever he wanted to do with her next.

His left hand stayed with her breast and nipple. His other strayed down over her stomach and found its way up under her skirt. Gentle, knowing fingers found her sweet, firm centre. At this point she became part of the music. Her next orgasm wasn't gentle or quiet.

She knelt on the carpet of the step. Chest heaving, breasts swinging gently inside her blouse. Her inner thighs were wet to her knees, she was overflowing! Herheart hammered in her ears, what had this wonderful man done to her?

She felt his hand on her shoulder, his other found her hand and then she was being led down the stairs. She followed mutely on wobbly legs. He led her into a room, his bedroom she supposed, he lay back on the bed, his bed, and held out his hands to her. She found herself straddling him and then lowering herself,taking him into herself.

Impaled now on that wonderful cock she found new strength. She ground her hips feeling his hardness stirring her insides. He slipped her blouse, then her bra, off her shoulders. She dropped forward onto her hands offering her breasts to him. They felt swollen and heavy, too heavy to be hers, his lips and teeth captured a nipple and she groaned. His hands slid down and held her ass, pulling her open.

Control slipped away and she began to use, to almost abuse, that beautiful thing inside her. She was doing the fucking now. She rode it mercilessly, making it explore her every corner, trying it seemed, to break it off and make it hers. She was fucking him, fucking him, making him fuck her. He was laughing now and joining her with thrusts of his own. She heard herself saying the most wicked things.

Then he hissed the word "Yessss!!" and his body tensed and thrust upwards almost lifting her and she knew that he really was going to be hers. She sat back now, all gentleness suddenly, and she milked him with her body, drawing him out, she felt each spasm, each spurt and answered with squeezes of her owns. Then she was coming too.

She collapsed onto him and sobbed her happiness into his shoulder.



A fifth riser got its flowers just five days later.



And then? Well, Naomi took half her husband's money and all of his car and now lives out west with a man barely old enough to be her father.

Frank? Frank moved too. Creatures like Naomi are the catalysts in human chemistry. He lives across town now. His new lady has a penthouse apartment and she's just about old enough to be his daughter.

Daughter Joan? She's looking for someone who'll paint the other seven stair risers.