A Flower Crushed free porn video

School Inset Day, so Lily was home on the Friday.”Gan’s here,” she screeched, from the window where she was knelt on an exotically decorated antique ottoman. The girl scampered from her mother’s room and dashed downstairs.

Lily let Gan, as she called her Grandfather from when she started to speak and couldn’t get her tongue round Grandad, in the front door, who was studying the fine tight trousered arse of the next door neighbour’s morning carer as she left to go to work. He whirled to catch the young girl as she leapt at him, her legs encasing his waist, her lips smothering him with kisses and his hands supporting her cute bum, with his middle fingers, prodding her juvenile, pink knickered cunt and arsehole, as she murmured that Mummy was still upstairs.

“I’ll make some coffee darling, wanna cup?” Gerard called up the stairs, seeking the elastice band of Lily’s knickers and finding it. Lily grinned and wriggled allowing his stubby builder’s digits to penetrate up to the first knuckle. A negative muffled response to coffee from the upper bathroom reached him.

“Gan you’re still in my minnie and pooey,” giggled Lily, enjoyng the dual sensation.

Reluctantly, in urgent need, he’d had a slow drive from his home, Gerard lowered her to the floor and sucked both fingers, rushing into the kitchen, through to the downstairs toilet to piss. He sucked again, savouring the pissy, poo stained digits. Lily who had followed him, patiently stood to one side holding his flaccid streaming cock and aiming the powerful flow in a clockwise pattern round the bowl. They both could recognise sounds from above alerting Elise’s descent downstairs and could hear none yet, such was their sneaky experience.

“I so love this bit of skin Gan, the way it smooths backward and forward like this, covering your knob,” Lily tittered tenderly.

He gently suggested that if she carried on like that he’d blow and ruin their adventures later, so she desisted. He allowed his grand daughter to suck his knob, letting go the one last drip into her rose petal mouth until she sucked his glans dry. They retired to the kitchen where the kettle had boiled. Elise rushed through, collecting stuff, kissed them both and dashed out.

At the underground station Elise attracted a lot of attention, nothing unusual for her being a striking, sexy mature woman dressed to both impress and excite. She knew most of her success at work came from being good at her job, sexily dressed with an attitude of take me ... which she wasn’t, having sworn to not be attached any longer, since that bastard. She’d successfully detracted or fought off many blatant sexual approaches, finding celibacy suited her. The odd meal and night out at some poor suckers expense was fine with her and many a bloke had his knackers squeezed enough to put them off.

The Clapham Junction.Waterloo 07.00 was as usual a fight and as usual she didn’t get a seat. She ignored the usual buttock brush, sometime with a bit of pressure against her comely bum, it happens, why complain? She skittered to and up the escalators, unaware of a scruffy middle aged man until at the exchange to the next escalator, where he surrendered his prize place right under and beneath her to a sharp suited business type who’d winked and given a secret sign. Along Royal Mint Street, a young long haired man had followed her very closely, sometimes alongside, other times, right behind, her heels occasionally catching something making her look down and check. Only a travel bag - WTF? She glared at him and he scuttled away

Up in Lily’s spacious bedroom festooned with every conceivable toy, poster and of course high tech game and device, her and her grandfather ignored it all, while he set up two video cameras to record the day’s fun. Lily perched on her big double bed and dug out from his work bag he’d conveniently brought, jars of lubricant and wipes, while Gerard undressed. In the meantime she dressed in clothing he’d smuggled in his bag, consisting of black fishnet stockings, black frilly suspender belt and a black and purple thong. She’d worn it before. Last of all out of the bag after a reinforced, to make it look like she had tits, frilly black brassiere, which she expertly clippd on, came a blonde wig which he helped her adjust to give her a baby doll appearance. The young girl preened and posed to a mirror until Gerard reminded her of the patent leather high heeled shoes, she had tucked in her wardrobe, her size, provided by her innocent mother. Lily grew three inches as she gracefully slunk round her domain watching Gerard crank up an erection from his half hard penile lump, already enhanced with a metal cock ring.

Knowing the score, after her grandfather peeled off her panties, Lily knelt on the bed, her arse high while Gerard smeared KY Jelly on her sphincter. The pink puckerd clutch of tiny wrinkles had almost winked at him as she’d stretched on the kitchen worktop, deciding that would be his first port of call this morning. She turned to tell him.

“Can you use that thing again Gan? It helped me ... you - to do it straight in ... you know?”

“Oh yeah. It’s up here,” he reached up to the back of her wardrobe and retrieved the shiny chrome item. “I couldn’t hide it from your Mum last week, anyway it’s safe, but I can take it and hide it in the bag today. OK here we go darling.”

He smoothed some jelly on the smooth domed end and inserted the speculum into her bum. Lily was totally relaxed, he could see her pelvic muscles reacting as he shoved the medical instrument up her rectum. Four inches in he, started to wind up the instrument, enlarging her still delicate anal orifice.

“OK pet?” he queried.

“Yes OK Gan, is it big enough now?”

“Oh yes...”

“Ooh get the camera, we didn’t do that when we first used it last week did we?”

Gerard silently praised her memory and got one of his video cameras, switched it on and positioned it on the bed, then deciding they both wanted to see the view before he started to shag the girl’s arse hole. He activated the video and moved into to the instrument, capturing all of it’s clever design and then operating it to go smaller, then enlarge her again to where it was. Then he aimed the lens inside the gap the speculum created to video the inner chambers of her rear end, telling her to work her inner muscles, which in doing so made her membranes flex and ripple. The camera’s inbuilt spot light caught all the subtle nuances he knew his grand daughter would love to see later ... that’s enough, he thought, I’m going in there.

The camera was lodged on the bedside table, out came the speculum and in went Gerard’s stiff tool all seven solid, inches as Lily mewed her pleasure, thrusting her delectable rump back at him. He fucked slowly, relishing the tightness, always the same after four years of penetrating her arse. Florence had ruled against taking her cunt purity, allowing only fingers and then up the first knuckle. In solemn memory of all that she’d told and taught him, the burly Irishman never ventured further, much as he’d like to but Florence was always right and he didn’t go further. He had kept, in fact they’d both kept her virginity, being much prized ... who knows at a later date?

While the camera captured the careful and thoughtful action, Gerard grunting and Lily sighing, he occasionally held it getting zoom close up, loving the way Lily’s ring piece, first of all fitted tightly and also the way it’s circle of tender muscle flexed round his own invading slickety hardness. The smoothing effect of the KY Jelly cancelled out any raw abrasions and did it’s secondary job of making the simple act of buggering her easy to accomplish, such was Lily’s experience. He thought back to the old days, way beyond the rise of internet and camera technology, remembering having to learn developing and printing to preserve precious memories of both his and Florence’s evil conquests. Some stupid cunt in the close circle of paedophiles had taken a reel of film for high street processing by mistake and the scandal was exposed. Florence and he had escaped detection and prosecution.

Gerard’s climax approached and he warned Lily who urged him to dump his load as far up her spout as he could and they’d watch and video it oozing out. That’s my girl he mused, as he ejaculated with a roar, bashing at her cute peachy rump ensuring penetration as far as he could, knowing no fear of damaging her, judging by the length and volume of her turds, they’d both enjoyed on video. Looking the cheap floosy he’d dressed her in, Gerard cuddled her as they relaxed on the bed until it came time for her to clean him up. She scuttled downstairs and returned with a bowl of warm water and a sponge, plus a towel and swabbed his flaccid tool, drying it. She needed the toilet after his cum had seeped out of her arse hole and Gerard lay on the bed hearing her farts and grunts, through the open door, loving the unholy intimacy.

Down in the kitchen, Lily now with her slappers panties on, they had a snack.

“When we finally do you in your pussy, we’ll use that instrument. It’ll give us a much better idea of what’s up there and be a damn sight more interesting,” he chortled.

“Ooh yeah Gan, we can’t see much at the moment ... until that ... er my hy...”

... men,” he finished her sentence. “When that’s broken ... I told you there’d be a little blood but you’ll be OK, it’ll be a whole new scene and the enjoyment you’ll get with a cock up there and if worked right, your clitty going bonkers with pleasure, you’re well on your way to being a woman darling.”

“Thanks Gan, I love you,” she murmured, kissing him.

Gerard helped Lily with her Maths, English and Science homework during the day, but the intervals were occupied with lots of clitoral stimulation, Lily’s orgasms and two further shags up her bum. Drained, tired and happy, he made a last visit to the upstairs toilet, ostensibly to have a shit and that was as Elise preferred he would stink downstairs, near the kitchen where her and her daughter would be having their evening meal. He collected his concealed camera and from her bedroom. Gerard left his daughter’s plush residence, patting Elise’s luscious mini skirted bottom, getting his hand slapped away in disgust. He’d done it for years and she still objected.

Back at home Gerard ate his meal grabbed a four pack of Guiness and settled down to watch TV, but not before connecting his video camera. He wanted to view the last few days captured in Elise’s bedroom and bathroom. Finding his favourite internet site he checked his own contributions, pleased with the complimentary comments he accumulated for his intimate reveals of Elise’s shower, toilet and bedroom activities. He’d carefully edited them to blur her face, but every nuance of her body was exposed to the world and she was becoming a star, not that she knew it, but men world wide were enjoying a wank to views of her lush busty body and very intimate details of her cunt and arsehole. Gerard had never mastered the art or equipment needed to catch her cunt opening and pissing into the bowl like some clever bastards, he wasn’t interested in her shitting, but he had captured one or two visiting women, friends of hers who instead of sitting on the bowl, squatted and the Irish navvy had caught spectacular views of every design of twat letting go and gushing full bladderfuls of urine into Elise’s upstair loo.

He went to the latest input of videos on Tom Voyeur’s page and viewed the selection, going first as always, to the Beach Cabins from Russia. After that he viewed the Public Showers selection - again Russian. His cock was hard and leaking pre-cum as he selected the Upskirt selection. He particularly picked out the British scenes. There weren’t many, once again the Russians were paramount subscribers, but now and then he recognised the contributors handles, knowing some of them, only by nom-de-plume by a message system within the website. He had commented on their work and vice versa. He’d received a PM - a Personal Message, from one of the London chaps who had been off the scene for a while, apparently working his magic on the nude beaches in the South of France. The PM told him he had new equipment and he was live in London and having considerable success, forwarding a video not yet exposed to the world on Tom’s site. They were spectacular up-skirts. Gerard looked forward to them. In the meantime he edited and uploaded a small selection of Elise’s bedroom scenes, showing her undressing and dressing, all in sparkling HD quality. He had a glorious climax.

Lily was watching TV that evening, the big spectacular Dancing show had nightly re-runs and reviews. Elise entered the lounge and plumped down beside her, throwing an arm round her daughter.

“We’ve got the whole weekend in front of us, Gan’s helped you with your homework, so lets have a girly weekend darling OK?”

“Oh goody yes,” enthused Lily, snuggling into a warm comfy and squashy embrace. She felt the cup of her Mum’s brassiere against her cheek, which reminded her. “Muuum? You know your boobs?”

Elise pulled a face, but realised she did need to humour her ever growing and developing young girl.

“Yes ... what then?”

With that Lily removed her tee-shirt and swivelled on the sofa pointing at her twin peaks, each which amounted to about an inch of conical projection high on her chest, topped by cute little pink nubs. Lily shoved her cascading locks over her shoulder and looked pointedly at Elise.

“Will I get boobs like yours?”

“Ah that’s the problem then darling? Well wrong word, not a problem it’s just that you’re very young and not developed yet ... your body, you know, still growing in every which way, so don’t worry about it. I was like you once. Anyway we’ve gone through all this several times. You are still developing and we don’t know how big your bo ... breasts are going to grow to.”

“Yes I know, but think about it ... take your jumper and bra off ... I want to show you,” Lily persisted.

Elise cast her eyes skywards, pursed her lips, shook her head, looked around, seeing the curtains were fully drawn, so hoisted her crocheted top off. She was reminded with juvenile gestures the Agent Provocateur undergarment was in fact her bra and needed to be removed. My! my girl is getting very assertive, she mused. She unclipped it and peeled it off, the bra refusing to fall due to to her full bloomed bosoms trapping the under wired hem. She hoisted her tits in relief, something she always did and cast it to one side, swiping her hands under her breasts.

“Now, can you lean forward?”

Elise did so.

“No that won’t do, kneel and let them dangle Mummy,” she was told.

“What the fu ... what is this about sweetie?” Elise complained.

“Can you just pleeeeaase Mummy?” Lily whined. Her mother did as asked, her formidable knockers, knocking together until they settled.

“This alright Doctor Lily?” Elise giggled, jiggling her hangers. She’d done the self same thing for that bastard, a few times, but no one else and now here’s her very young daughter requesting her to perform some act as a whim – was it a whim? She’d soon find out.

Lily took the hint of growing impatience in her impatient mother. “My boobs are up here, so yours must have been?” She got a nod. “So now yours are down here, ‘cos you’ve grown old,” Lily stated. Her mother nearly reacted at the unfortunate term but a small hand was cupping one breast, way up under where the sun didn’t shine and it felt sort of nice and comforting, something she hadn’t experienced for some time.

“I mean that’s high up there and if I hold it like this...” Lily grasped the hanging mammary over it’s top, fingers nearly meeting her fingers in the sweaty overhanging droop. “You see, it’s such a small place ... small area and yet look at your big boobs, they’ve sort of outgrown where they started. Will mine do that.”

The sensation of having one tit held in a sort of vice like grip without the pain, seemed rather pleasant to the high flying HR executive, but enough of that, she dismissed sexy thoughts.

“It’s like I was going to milk you Mummy,” Lily shrieked, slapping her Mum’s tits before falling back in undisguised mirth.

“Well thanks for calling me a cow darling, anyway what do you know about milking, you’ve never been to a farm?” asked Elise, clipping her bra back on and donning her top.

“Yes I have, we told you. Gan took me one day, it was cool.”

“OK I understand,” agreed Elise, regretting she didn’t pay enough attention to domestic things. “Anyway your boobs will obviously get bigger, all girls do, some larger than others and because they have to make milk ... like cows, remember? “getting a positive nod. “tissues form inside the boob, I mean the breast and they grow. Now that makes them heavy so they hang down, so while they look huge, you’re right they all grow from quite a small part of your chest. That explain things?”

Her satisfied daughter trotted to bed. Elise had like her daughter’s inquisitiveness and even the delicate then firm feel of her infant fingers on her – yes, they are formidable, low hanging bulky tits she mused, getting topless again. It was rather a nice feeling around the house like this, she mused, going into the kitchen to find a bottle opener for the bottle of Malbec. She poured a goodly glass and sauntered jauntily back to the lounge admiring the way her boobs as Lily had called them jiggled as she passed and stopped near the wall mirror in the hall. She posed, sticking them out crudely, chuckled, shook her head then pulled her stomach in. Extra pounds there, Elise grunted, letting her belly resign.

“I s’pose she had a point,” she chuntered to herself. “They are big, but they are beautiful. Most men would love to get their hands on them.” She continued her passage to the lounge and sprawled n the sofa, sipping her wine and admiring the flowing mounds of breast flesh where they sank with gravity into her sides, nearly her armpits. She tweaked a nipple which was already stout and upright, in the lower temperature of the kitchen and shivered with the sensation, then a frisson of excitement rippled through her crotch. She hadn’t felt that for a long time. Another sip of the wine created a drip onto her chest and she brushed it aside, catching her nipple. The same sensation down below. My fanny hasn’t had any excitement for a long time, having decided modest celibacy was the right path to follow, to get rid of the anxiety men could cause. Elise giggled, got up and went to her purse finding a small mirror. She angled it between her curvy thighs and examined her crotch.

“Needs a trim,” she murmured, sliding her hand over her pudenda. The slightest stubble was barely evident, certainly not to the eye, but she was a perfectionist in all things bodily. Her outer labia lips were thick and stretched the complete length of her slit. She frowned as always when viewing them thinking they were too heavy and those curls and flaps – why? must be off putting for men, but why was she bothered? Elise liked her clitoral hood, it sort of balanced the outers and the inners. She nudged it to tidy it and it opened at the lower join. She wasn’t blessed with a large love button and she saw it’s tip, bright and pink almost cosy and decided to leave it alone. She knocked the mirror over purposely, levered up, stood, gulped the remaining wine and went to a solitary bed.

“Shit! I haven’t got any clean thongs,” Elise swore, two days later, looking through her underwear drawer, knowing Lily was in her own room and wouldn’t hear her expletive. The divorced mother of one, searched further in her wardrobe, rifled through the dirty laundry, to see of she’d tossed a clean thong in by mistake, but no. She glanced at her chosen outfit for this important day in her working life and decided to go commando on the basis that a visible panty line would spoil the clean unencumbered smoothness of the skirt she would wear. It was a lovely warm day.

“Mummy ... you know your boobs?” queried Lily, trotting into the master suite, now of sole occupation since she’d chucked her now ex-husband out, for cheating on her. Lily watched Elise, her 37 years old mother dressing at the point where Elise bent forward to allow her big full bloomed knockers to hang like two water filled balloons into the pale red D cups she was trying to get them to settle in.

“Yes darling, of course I know my boobs, Elise answered patiently, not correcting her young young girl on using the common term for breasts. She knew it was Gerard, her 6young father, Lily’s grand father, who always used the derogatory, in Elise’s world, term. She fiddled with the cups, one seam misaligned and nipping the lower arc of her right tit.

Lily watched fascinated, the questions bubbling inside her young body and mind, full of awareness of what things could be and encouraged by Gerard but under orders not to tell, otherwise he would get into a lot of trouble with the police and he’d be locked away. Then there would be no more trips to the zoo to see if any of the animals were mating, or to Grandpa’s house to watch his mastiff dogs make babies, or watch videos comparing how mummies and daddies mated to make babies.

Elise managed to house her hooters successfully, straightening up, smoothing over the soft spillage from each cup and adjusting a strap which had twisted. She would be very late for work at the prestigious IT company HQ in the city and knowing the rail way turmoil and driver disputes, plus the underground tunnel closures it would be a long arduous journey to fulfil her role as group head of HR.

“Mummy. Can I ask you something?”

“Look darling, I am sorry but Mummy is late for work. We’ll talk about it tonight eh? After supper. It’s Monday and no classes tonight or anything so we can talk as long as we want?” Elise answered, deciding on and stepping into a light, grey check mini skirt. It fitted round her butt tightly, seeing her shape in the mirror with a satisfied smile.

“Go and let Granddad in sweetie.” Lily scampered off.

Just above the inward curve of her buttocks, the skirt had four inches of flared pleats. Executing a short jiggle, the lightweight summer material, stayed sensibly low and wouldn’t reveal her bottom. She liked this particular garment for it’s colour, the light grey and black tartan type of pattern, complemented her tan. Her short but shapely legs were good as she studied herself in the mirror and swivelled to adjust the line of the hem and her tanned legs, stepping into vertiginous high white stilettos. She bent forward to check how much of her butt would be exposed and determined no more than usual in terms of what she saw on the city streets. Only going on the underground, crowds there, no one’s going to see me, just going to work like everyone else, she thought. Got to make an impression on that new CEO today.

“Can’t go like this,” she chuckled, so she selected and pulled on a creamy white crocheted top, her brassiere shade just about visible through. A little titillation for the men.

“No thanks pop. In a frightful rush, I’ll leave you to it...” Elise descending the stairs, told her father.

Gerard had intended to shift towards the kitchen, but stopped, Lily having whispered “Mummy’s got no knickers on.”

Holding the little girl, he lingered near the balustrade and lusted up the bare legs of his only daughter, the sight verifying Lily’s information. He did notice that Elise had still got a bald cunt, much to his regret, hoping the next time he viewed his concealed cameras in her bedroom, he’d capture the full on hairy muff she used to sport. He’d like to ask why she’d gone bald. Elise gathered her briefcase, stuffed her laptop inside, grabbed a short lightweight jacket, kissed Lily and Gerard and marched out. He closed the door and watched her trot off to the local station.

The way her skirt hem bounced round those delectable hips and thigh, made him think she would be a natural target for any peepers and dirty minded bastards, just like he was, to seek a view up her crotch.

“Did you see? No knickers? I told you, isn’t she naughty Gan?” gurgled the young girl, getting a bottle of full cream milk from the massive American style fridge freezer and handing it to him.

“Yes isn’t she and you know what, that’s what you’re going to be today ... knickerless!” he grabbed her, hoisted Lily up to the worktop, laid her flat on her back and dragged off her little undies while she squealed in delight, kicking her legs. She lay there quietly, fingering her peachy litte twat as he prepared himself a mug of coffee, spilling sugar out of the bag onto the marbled granite worktop, slightly distracted by Lily’s expert frigging and poking between her gorgeous thighs – just as he and his deceased wife Florence had taught her. They had decided that if their daughter was going to use them as much as she did for babysitting, they would indulge themselves bringing up Lily in the way Florence had been brought up back in County Derry.

They had been married five years, before there was a knock at their door, finding two plain clothes policemen. Florence was arrested and given a community sentence, probation and counselling. She had been named in a local scandal, involving her apparently notorious parents, two members of the council, one law officer, a nurse, two members of the army for grooming young girls, photographing them in lewd poses and having sex with both the male and female group members. She had the lightest sentence, because she was viewed as only a participant and not a procurer, mainly a victim but a knowing victim. Gerard and Florence moved to Cheltenham in England to get on with life. He had been fascinated rather than disgusted and prompted his wife to explain and detail everything and with her being indoctrinated at an early age, urged an obviously intrigued Gerard they should try things. Along came a perfect subject and also resentment because of their daughter’s high flying work, snobbery, Evangelical church love and disdain for Gerard’s job as a sewage contractor.

The working week was normal, Gerard doing his usual, always on time to collect Lily from school. The days were planned as more homework help and then he took her to a weekly gymnastics class where Elise would collect her. On Wednesday, he got home and retired to his TV seeking titillation to wank to. Automatically he went to Tom Voyeur, getting more glowing reports on videos of Elise he’d posted a week or so ago. He searched his other favourites then spotted on the new page some intriguing stills, from a video of up-skirts in London. It had to be his PM contact and downloaded a batch - It was.

PM was a master at the skill of getting up-skirts, with a camera, of the most exciting girls, but also capturing older ladies, even grannies, manoeuvring himself behind them on escalators and actually riskily lifting skirts with one hand, videoing with the other. To make his videos complete and not just depicting what the females wore over their minges, he would make sure of viewing them walking in front, past, towards him or any way he caught their upper body, dress and gait, even filming their facial features and the occasional glance at him alongside. Gerard reckoned PM was the best in the illicit business. He settled down to watch and wank to five new videos.

First there was a a slender female in quite unusual shoes, sort of court heels, but the body of the shoe was red and the one inch body of a chunky heel in white. The camera panned up black fishnet tights, then PM lifted the rear hem, his hand could be seen, lifting the hem high as the camera panned up her thighs, unfortunately clamped together, round her bum cheeks and focussing on the tight dark crevasse of her crack, through a hold in the hose. The girl didn’t stir once on the moving staircase up to Monument Station. In the concourse to street, PM had caught level with her, finding an attractive long haired, Nordic featured blonde, carrying a large bouquet of flowers, in a black and white free flowing skirt. She walked briskly, aware but exiting the station.

Gerard guessed maybe PM had an accomplice to prevent other punters ascending the escalators to protect the blatant lift of the skirt. Next came a chunky pair of stout and matronly bare legs. She had trim ankles and her feet clad in two inch high, matt black, kitten heels. The camera panned up, finding a large dark mole on the inside of the subjects left knee. The stance was shifted and PM’s hand which had just filtered under the hem of a light, floral patterned skirt, dropped away. Soon it was again doing the business and up it want, the scene much enhanced by the bright lights in the escalator surrounds. The subject’s bum cheeks floundered heavily into picture, spotty and pale lumps, but the prize awaiting viewers was a dark, smudgy, tight crack and then right at the top, the glimmer of a red satin thong, that dived into the murky crevasse. The escalator levelled at the top, down went the skirt and PM took the opportunity if getting next to her as she marched off at rather a brisk pace, checking her smart device, after adjusting the large designer label, ochre coloured bag slung over her shoulder. She was middle aged, school-marmish complete with severe black framed spectacles, smart and business like with a neatly coiffed brunette hair style. On the face of it, you’d never think that underneath she would be sporting a sexy string over her cunt.