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Across the Ages 05: 1980 Viola

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Copyright the author. It took me a while to figure out Viola’s character. This is the last installment from this era of the Barron family; the next story will go forward 20 years. You don’t necessarily need to read all the stories to enjoy this one, although it probably helps to read Across the Ages 04: 1980 Thelma.


Viola stared out at the pool deck, empty now that the orgy had moved inside, thinking about what she had seen. Her daughter Thelma screaming out her love for the young boy, Jack, from the house across the desert, as he plunged into her from behind. The boy who reminded Thelma of that other Jack, who gave Thelma her own daughter and went away to war, never to come back. And yet Viola could see that, although they were both playing a role, the love between them was real, like actors who become the part they are playing. Jack had what Viola thought of as a gift for loving randiness; an eternal thirst for sex and an eternal affection for the people he had sex with; love and sex inseparable, feeding each other in a rising spiral, so that the orgasm is an explosion of both physical pleasure and a mental ecstasy where two wave forms collapse into one.

Viola had known of this all her life. She first discovered the healing power of sex when she was nurse during World War I, tending the wounded who had been shipped back to London. They would get erections when she gave them a sponge bath, looking at her pleading, and nothing seemed more natural than to place her delicate hands on their thick rods and stroke them gently to release. She found that those who received this treatment regularly healed more quickly. Soon it became an open secret in the ward that she would provide this healing treatment, a secret that was not abused. Men would wait patiently for their turn, hearing the life-giving groans of others. Viola discovered that baring her breasts gave greater pleasure, and would let her favorites suck her nipples, causing an explosion of warmth and wetness between her legs.

One night, at home, she disrobed and stood before the mirror and held her hands out, turning them over. They were beautiful hands, soft skinned and agile, precise in their movements and smooth to the touch when she rubbed them together. She reached up with them and began stroking her breasts, gently lifting and stroking the sides, brushing her palms across the nipples. It was as if her nipples were wired directly to her cunt, an electric signal sent through her body each time she brushed them, causing a little tense explosion of heat followed by a release of moisture. She started pinching her nipples, rolling them between her fingers, finding the exact pressure that moved her one step further up the mountainside, reaching towards the peak of quaking desire, until she cried out, a groan from deep within her, her skin suddenly alive all over. Panting, she dropped her hands to her sides and looked at herself in amazement. She probed the swollen wetness between her legs, the open hole, and thought about sinking down onto one of those wounded boys.

As life returned to normal after the war the need for the makeshift ward she tended dwindled, until one night there was just one patient, a proud Scotsman with a fiery red beard and a nest of red pubic hair to match, from which reared the proudest hardest cock of all. She admired it with her delicate hands. Smiling, she bent down to kiss the tip and take bulbous head in her mouth, ripe and red and ready to explode. She looked up at the smiling face of her unknown soldier, stood up and slowly removed the layers of her nurse’s uniform until she was naked before him, proud breasted with hard nipples, her swollen lips wet with desire. She straddled him, opening wide her thighs and lowered herself onto that warm living rod and rode him. They stared at each other, eyes locked and nostrils flared, mouths moaning ever more urgently until they reached the mountaintop together and became one in an explosion of ecstasy, indistinguishable in that moment from love, unsullied and never to be forgotten. Viola felt his spasming cock deep inside her, filling her womb with warm semen.

She never saw her Scotsman again, but it was on that night that Thelma, her wild redheaded daughter, was conceived.


Turning away from the window, Viola was seized by a compulsion to stand naked in front of her mirror again, as she had done all those years ago. She disrobed and spread her hands in that same gesture, turning them over in graceful caresses, raising them to her sagging breasts and pinching her nipples, still wired as ever to the pulsing core between her legs. She fingered the wrinkled skin of her cheeks and ran her hand through her long white hair. She ran her hands over her belly into the hollow of her thighs. Within casino siteleri that weathered leathery frame, she knew, was an opening of wet flesh that was ever youthful and always seeking. She thought of Jack’s cock plunging into Thelma and yearned for it, yearned once more to sink herself down onto that warm intimate hardness. It was then that she thought of The Dress and formulated a plan.


The Dress was a short dress in the flapper style, with sparkling shoulder straps and a shimmering fringe. It was made of black and silver metal mesh that swagged and swayed on every curve of her body, hugging her breasts and dripping off her hips. It revealed her body in a way that no transparent material could have done; she felt more naked than naked when wearing it. She had first discovered its magic power one evening with two friends who had come to her with a problem.

During the Roaring Twenties, Viola had acquired a reputation with her friends as a sexual oracle, full of emotional wisdom and sensual skill, dispensing both with that same magical power of her hands as she caressed the strapping cocks of the soldier in her care. And, like the soldiers, those who came to her never judged her or sullied her name, such was the purity of her healing touch.

On the occasion in question, towards the end of that decade, Terence and Emily, a young couple in their twenties, had come to her seeking solace. Something inspired Viola to throw on The Dress, naked underneath. As they entered the room and saw her wearing it, she was immediately aware of a current, filaments of pheromones threading the air, swellings and secretions in response to visions of her lush naked body beneath The Dress.

Emily reached out to touch Viola’s shoulder. “What extraordinary material,” she breathed, aching to move her hand further down to the swell of Viola’s breast, made riper and more succulent by the shimmering cloth. “Terence, do come and feel.” Viola took Terence’s hand and placed it on her waist, noting his eyes take in the flare of her boyish bottom.

“Yes, I just got it, it has an effect, doesn’t it?” said Viola. “But do sit down, and tell me what ails you.”

They took the elegant love seat and Viola pull up a chair opposite. Emily, who had been wondering how she could ever start the conversations, found that the sexually saturated atmosphere had cleared her mind and quickened her tongue.

“Everybody talks about how wonderful sex is and… Terence and I, well, we don’t get much out of it,” she blurted.

“That is to say, we do like it,” said Terence, “but not madly. To hear people talk you’d think it was the cat’s pyjamas. To us it’s just a nice walk in the park.”

Viola shifted in her seat, judging the moment and coming to a decision. “Have you tried foreplay?”

“What’s that?” they said together.

“Oh, caressing and touching, kissing. And more. You could say that we were engaging in foreplay when you arrived, when you touched my dress.” She stood up and moved closer to them. “Except that Emily would have been touching my breast, and Terence would have been touching my bottom. Would you like to?”

She turned her bottom towards Terence and bent over, facing Emily. “Don’t you feel the arousal?” Emily, panting gently, reached out with both hands and cupped Viola’s full breasts, eyes half closed and mouth half open. Viola bent to kiss the sweet mouth, cupping Emily’s cheeks in her gentle magical hands, caressing her neck and then pressing her lips there as her hands moved further down. Emily moaned softly.

Meanwhile Terence was lifting her dress and caressing the taut globes of her bottom, gently fingering the crack between them, and dreaming of another crack he had glimpsed and longed for years ago. He stood and pressed his burgeoning erection against her. Feeling it, Viola decided it was time to move to the next stage.

“Have you ever tried fellatio?” she asked. Emily and Terence looked blank. “Let me show you. Emily, come and kneel here beside me.” She deftly undressed Terence from the waist down and took his cock in her hands, gently stroking and bringing it to full hardness. “Watch me,” she said to Emily. She bent down and engulfed Terence’s cock with her mouth, savoring its slim rigidity. Terence sighed, eyes closed. She lifted away and gestured to Emily. “You try. Be mindful of your teeth, and use your tongue.” Emily bobbed up and down on Terence’s cock.

“I do admire your haircut,” said Viola absently. “It looks so boyish.” Terence grunted. He opened his eyes and looked down. Viola began to have an inkling of a theory. “Why don’t you take her head in your hands and move it up and down. Push in a little deeper. Terence grabbed Emily’s head, closed his eyes again, and gave a deep groan as güvenilir casino he plunged his cock hard down Emily’s throat. Emily gagged and coughed and drew away.

“Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry, I got carried away, I don’t… I don’t know what came over me,” said Terence, returning to the living room from whatever faraway dream had filled his mind.

“No, no, it was a bit more than I expected, but it was also… indescribably arousing,” said Emily.

“Did it make you wet?” said Viola. “Down there?” Emily gazed up at her with a shy smile and nodded.

“Terence, I think it’s time you learned about cunnilingus,” said Viola. “And it’s high time we all got undressed.” She stood up and extended her arms with her elegant palms down, then turned them inwards and upwards in a gesture to Emily and Terence that commanded, “undress me.” They arose and reached down on either side of her to lift The Dress cleanly off her body, revealing her glorious nakedness. Then she fluttered her hands at each of them in another unmistakable gesture and they disrobed themselves.

“Emily, sit down in this chair and spread your legs so we can see your sweet little cunt,” said Viola. Emily, blushing to her neckline, complied. Viola knelt. “Terence, kneel by me and behold these glorious folds and inhale their nectar.” She leaned in to sniff. But looking back at Terence she saw a look of disgust on his face that made her change course. “On second thoughts, why don’t you get behind me while I demonstrate.” Then she plunged her face into Emily’s wet red center, drawing a sigh of relief and desire deep from her core. Her nose nuzzled and her tongue licked, devouring Emily’s salty musky tang and licking up to her now protruding clitoris, launching Emily on the climb to Mount Orgasm.

“Oh, god, yes, FUCK,” said Emily. Viola pulled back for a moment, smiling at the shocking language breaking through Emily’s upper class decorum. She said to Terence, “you can lick my bottom if you like.” Then added on instinct, “why don’t you pretend it is his bottom.” Terence reacted with a primal growl and plunged his face between Viola’s cheeks, thrusting at her arsehole with his pink pointed tongue.

And so they climbed the mountain together, three companions joined in lust and separated in their private worlds, worlds where all was accepted and all was forgiven, where the pure white current of sexuality spread its healing energy without the prim strictures of morality or the violent restrictions of law. As they approached the peak, Viola withdrew again from Emily’s pulsing cunt and said, “why don’t you put your penis in, you know you want to.” And so Terence reared up and plunged his slender prick into Viola’s wet and loose arsehole, thinking always of his secret love. Eruptions exploded then in all three of them, their superimposed worlds collapsing for a moment into a single pulsing wave of love, lust, and pleasure.

“I think I know what the problem is,” said Viola, after they came back to earth. “Terence likes boys and Emily likes girls.”

“I think I like them both,” whispered Emily.


Jack and Kay were chatting at their kitchen table after a winey Sunday lunch when Viola appeared at their back door, wearing The Dress. There was something different in her bearing as she came in, not the sweet old lady they had come to know at Barron family dinners, something regal and primal at the same time. And something else penetrating the wine-soaked air that aroused both Jack and Kay.

“I wanted to thank you for taking care of Thelma while she was here,” she said, with a sideways smile at Jack. “I thought Kay might like this dress. And Jack might like her wearing it.”

The dress shimmered in the afternoon light.

“What’s it made of?” asked Kay in wonder.

“Metal mesh. Here come and feel it.” She place Kay’s hand on her pendulous breast and Jack’s hand on her swelling bottom, as if those were most natural places.

“Here, why don’t you try it on,” said Viola, lifting the dress over her head to reveal her complete nakedness. She started to unbutton Kay’s dress, her delicate hands brushing Kay’s braless nipples as she did so. “Jack, come and take her sandals off, there’s a good boy.”

Jack knelt to unbuckle the sandal straps, his face close to Viola’s grey-haired pubic mound and Kay’s panty clad dark bush, revealed as Viola pulled off her dress. “And pull those panties down, will you?”

“Yes, I think we are about the same size, aren’t we?” said Viola, standing next to Kay. “Go on then, put it on.”

The Dress hung sensuously from Kay’s every curve.

“Do you like it?” asked Viola.

“Oh yes,” breathed Jack and Kay together.

“Good then, I’ll leave you know. If I know that dress, you are both going to canlı casino want fuck very soon. If you like it, you can come and thank me, Jack.”

She turned and walked out the door, with a saucy twitch to her bottom, and walked naked across the desert with otherworldly grace and sexuality, a vision in long white hair.

“Oh Jack, this dress, I’m almost coming just wearing it, I am so fucking wet.” She bent over the kitchen counter and lifted the dress. “Fuck my cunt and finger my arsehole. Then fuck my arse and come.”

And so he did.


Jack was lying on Viola’s bed as she sat beside him and stroked his erect cock.

“I’m so glad you liked The Dress and came to thank me,” she said.

“Me too. You have beautiful hands, did you know that?”

“The boys used to tell me that, those soldiers back from the war, where I first discovered big beautiful erect cocks.”

“So soft, so smooth.”

Viola’s eyes shone amid the wrinkles of her face and her ever youthful warm wet mouth opened to take him in, all the way down, the bulge of his cock pushing out the weathered skin of her throat. Her tongue undulated as she gulped him down. She withdrew and sat up. Jack looked at her and found her beautiful, from her aged face, alive with a wise and wanton smile, to the dark brown erect nipples in the soft wrinkled flesh of her breasts, to her old lady paunch, to the fine wisps of white hair around her crinkled labia, with the moist red gash of her cunt showing through. She saw him looking there and opened her legs wider and started to finger herself.

“We’ll need to make those bits a little wetter,” she said, and crawled on top of him, lowering her mouth again to his needy cock and her cunt to his thrusting tongue. Her two wet mouths, the horizontal and the vertical, engulfed him and the two of them became one writhing mass of flesh, young and old, bodies pressed so tightly that it made no difference, sucking and thrusting until Jack erupted with a gasp into Viola’s swallowing mouth and Viola gripped Jack’s head in a spasm that started in the fires of her groin and spread throughout her body to the very fingertips of her clawing hands.

Viola sat up and sighed and put her hand on Jack’s softening cock. “I do like sex so very much. It has kept me going all these years. I think all my girls have been like that, haven’t they Jack? You’ve had them all, haven’t you? I saw you with Thelma. You’ve loved them all. Who was first?”

“Peggy. She was the first. I mean, not just the first Barron but the first woman ever. We made love twice that night, once on her bed and again in the hallway. We really fucked hard the second time.” His cock twitched in memory.

“It turns out that Ruth heard us that second time. She was lying in her bed, masturbating. She says she came when we did.”

Viola’s hand started to move up and down on Jack’s stiffening cock.

“Peggy is like Thelma, all soft and round and fleshy. Ruth is more like you, hard on the outside, soft and wet on the inside.”

Viola straddled Jack’s not completely erect cock and slowly sank down on to it.

“Tell me about your first time with Ruth.”

“It was the night of her 20th wedding anniversary with Edward. They had broken up by then and she was sad. We drank a little too much and ended up on the couch. One moment we were talking and the next we were kissing. It was if we fell into another universe. It was wonderful. Oh god you feel good.”

“Tell me more. Tell me everything you did with Ruth.”

“Ruth taught me everything. She taught me to how to lick.”

“She was a very good teacher.” Viola kept riding up and down on Jack’s cock, taking her time, slowing building the charge. “Be a dear and get that Vaseline from the side table and put some in my bottom.”

“Ruth showed me that, too. She invited me into her… bottom, one night. I never felt more loved, more trusted. Oh god, Viola, I love being up inside you. I love your….”

“My cunt, yes, you are fucking my cunt, yes, you are sticking your naughty finger into my arse, not my bottom, my arse, oh yes oh yes, go there now, fuck my arse, fuck my dirty naughty arsehole, you lovely boy.”

She lifted herself, shifted forward, and plunged own again, impaling herself, taking Jack’s cock to the hilt in her other hole, welcoming him into her most intimate and forbidden space.

“Do you love me, Jack? Do you love me like you love all my girls?”

“I do, I love you, I love fucking you, I love that you love fucking me, I love that you love me, oh god I’m going to come again.”

Viola went rigid as Jack erupted inside her, fulfilling his promise of thanks, thankful for the love and trust she granted him, thankful for truth, for her beauty, for her wild sexual wisdom, for her gift down the ages.

Viola watched as his face relaxed and his eyes came back into focused, eyes full of love. “You’ve done us all now, haven’t you? It’s like winning the trifecta, except it’s four. What do you call that?”

“I call it paradise,” said Jack.

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