Counter Surveillance free porn video

Originally created in 2004, I have edited and hopefully improved this tale.

“He seems to be in there a long time,” Edith Ward murmured to Henry, as she hovered near the bathroom door.

“Leave him, just settling in and a bit nervous dear. He’s been into town and got some things, since he arrived this morning, just finding his way round.”

“Hmm. He did look a bit peeky when he came back. Wonder if he’s OK, not ill or something. But he has stayed with us before,” she whispered, standing near the door, fingers to her lips.

“Yes, but not here and he was much younger then and Pat and Dave were with him at the old house. It’s all new to him, come on I’ll make us a nice cup of tea. He’ll be out in a minute.”

The elderly couple shuffled down the hallway of their new neat bungalow and surveyed the tidy small garden, alive with birds on the many feeding stations round their plot

“Phew! It’s hot again. How long do they expect this heat wave to continue,” said Edith, swiping her heavily veined, liver spotted hand over her furrowed brow.

“Don’t know, maybe a day or two it said on the Beeb if you can believe them,” chuckled Henry.

“But I’m loving it.”

“It’s all right for you men walking round in just your shorts,” she responded, glancing at her bald headed, six feet tall, thin husband’s mahogany tanned torso and the ancient athletic shorts he wore.

“Well you would normally be nude wouldn’t you, if Tim wasn’t here. Just a point – or two by the way ... er...” he chuckled. “Shouldn’t you wear a bra, I mean your nips are up like bloody great peanuts?”

Edith slanted her face down her expansive, well-upholstered chest and saw the direction of his nod.

“Hmm. Maybe, never thought about. It doesn’t matter when we have the girls to stay, they seem to accept that part of a woman’s body.”

“Yes but they’re usually round eight or ten anyway. It wouldn’t even enter their pretty little heads,”

Henry giggled, pouring water into the teapot, his mind wandering to some recent tasty visions and how he entered some pretty little heads.

“Oh Hi Tim, you OK?”

“Cool thanks Pops,” answered the fourteen-year-old bespectacled youth, entering with a sniff, the incessant sniff and the equally non-stop nudge of his wired glasses up his nose.

His grandmother peered closely at the lad as he entered the kitchen, noticing how he had started to grow some facial hair, then reached for a glass for him. Tim peered closely at her huge nipple bulges through the thin almost threadbare, pale grey, sweaty, outsize vest she had stretched over her ample bosom. The armholes of the garment were wide, sweat stained and loose and he saw the bunch of damp hair under where the slightly tauter flesh of her bingo wings melded with her front chest. The wide low neck betrayed much sun effect, giving her tanned and slightly freckled skin the texture of crepe. When her tits were squashed together, the crease of her cleavage widened into a web of tiny wrinkles.

“Cool, he says. Do you hear that Henry - and he’s wearing a tee shirt and a polo shirt and jeans?” chortled Edith, getting orange juice from the fridge and handing it to Tim.

“You found everything you needed this morning?” asked Henry.

“Yeah, you know Pops,” replied Tim, sipping his juice. “You think you have packed everything and there’s always something.”

“Glad you got it all,” murmured Edith.

Collectively they wandered out into the garden and lounged on reclining chairs, chatting about Tim’s schoolwork, his hopes and aspirations and in turn the intelligent and streetwise boy asked them about their house move and health.

“Well of course we still carry on with our fostering, but now we have downsized. We are realising that as we get older, too many young girls running around is a lot to handle, we can only take one child at a time, but if the demand is there and it always seems to be, we might get some new bunks like those old ones we had and scrapped,” said Henry, puffing on his briar pipe, knowing quite well that would be the next purchase. “Anyway you are the first to use the bedroom since we moved in. we took a few weeks to move and rest too, I mean those youngsters can wear us two old wrinklies down after a while.”

“I’ll bet,” agreed Tim, noting the glance and smile between his grandparents, thinking what a wonderful example they set to society with their non-stop help for unwanted children.

“You were into radio or something weren’t you Pops,” Tim queried.

“Started off there Tim and went into TV. Cameras and sound combined, loved it.”

“He ended up as BBC station chief for the South,” added Edith, with obvious pride. “Of course that was many moons ago, but he can’t help tinkering with it, loves gadgets and stuff. I’m amazed at what he can turn his hand to.”

“That shed over there is stuffed with my gear and I’ll soon have it sorted and playtime will start again,” chortled Henry.

“Bad news for me that is Tim,” said Edith. “When your grand dad locks himself away in there, it seems he has gone for ever, but he always surprises me at the end, don’t you darling?”

The grins and hand touching were all evidence Tim needed, if he indeed was seeking any, that the senior members of his family were happy with their lot.

“Dad and Mum OK?” asked Edith. “They were brilliant with helping us move.”

“Fine, send their love,” replied Tim, thinking of how especially fine a mother he had.

“So two days then you’re off to France with the school?” asked Henry.

“Yeah should be good. Thanks for letting me stay here. Mum and Dad have gone on their annual cruise for four weeks and the builders are in knocking the place around as you know. Oh! by the way, got to be at the terminal by six o’clock on Saturday.”

The old Ward couple got on with their chores and gardening, while Tim did some reading then retired to his bedroom. Some packaging was screwed up and put into his bag, didn’t want that to be found – he mused, then he opened his laptop. He cleared some emails, dabbled on Facebook until he heard a small swear word outside the window. He stood and gazed through the net curtains to see Edith bending over the flowerbeds right under his window. Her vest hung wide, the neck hung low below her torso and her heavy 50DD breasts wobbled and rolled as she struggled with something.

Tim gasped and grabbed his digital camera, switched to movie format and aimed at the vast cleavage exposed, loving the way the big balloons knocked each other about. Luckily there was a gap at the side of the nets he could get a clear view. Her straw like, bleached blonde/grey, straw like hair fell round her face a few times, but didn’t hinder his view.

Tim’s steady hand ensured the camera stayed on the subject as he checked the rest of the garden to see if his grandfather was still out and sure enough he had a rear view of Henry as he bent double, outstanding for his seventy seven years, on the far side of the small lawn to attend to some weeds, Henry also offered a remarkable view of one of his balls which had slid out of the side of the very worn inner slip of his tiny nylon running shorts. Noting how low it was dangling, Tim turned his attention back to Edith.

Licking his young voyeur lips he zoomed in on her tits and wondered if that dark area was one of her gigantic nipples, they sure looked big compared to his Mum’s who had soft, wide, pale areolae with hardly any bulb. The sixty eight year old shifted nearer the window giving Tim an even closer look at her huge hangers wobbling free, then being mashed together, making her vast cleavage crease right up to her neck as Edith grasped a reluctant root and pulled it. She nearly fell backwards when it finally unearthed and it was a wonderful vision of her boobs rolling and thrusting as she steadied herself until returning to squat. Some more prodding and pulling afforded him wonderful cleavage footage, until finally she swivelled upwards and round, now offering her large butt to his prying camera and Tim saw the tell tale line of her knickers, complete with the cross seam of the gusset beneath the grey flannel shorts, one hemline did seem to be almost lost up her crack ‘a wedgie’ he mused.

He remembered the pale pink pair of plain large cut knickers he had found raiding the laundry basket shortly after arriving that morning and wondered how long they had been in there. Whilst dry and not warm, they still had a strong cunt aroma on the slightly stained, cotton gusset. M&S size 16, he noted as he sniffed them hungrily but carefully leaving them in the same place. He felt satisfied that his investigations, then subsequent trip into town on a buying mission would prove fruitful and all would soon be revealed.

Edith waddled over the lawn to consult with Henry and Tim stopped recording, he would have plenty of opportunities in the coming week abroad, so to voyeur his old grandparents, was just a bonus he hadn’t thought about. The French family he was to stay with in Dijon looked ideal material for his solitary amusement. Solitary initially, until it was broadcast to his little clique of Internet friends.

The camera was immediately linked to his laptop and the Edith gardening clip was downloaded for future reference, in its own file. The camera was wiped. He was excited, this being the first time he had actually stayed away from home, apart from summer camps, which he hated, not being an outdoor sort of person. With very little family and no girlfriends, Tim’s world was one of screens and learning, but the learning was in three domains. Mature ladies, voyeurism and high tech computer wizardry. He was excited, as he was actually getting the chance in using his clever equipment in unknown territories, such as his grandparent’s house and then on to the French family.

OK - Edith and Henry were not obviously in the first flush of youth or even middle aged, like his Mum, but it was all good practice and in Dijon there would seem to be endless opportunities while staying with the very good looking family of five. Tim couldn’t resist opening some previous files on his laptop and gazed with great pleasure at the scenes being played out in incredibly high quality as he reached into his jeans and played with his cock.

One of his favourite sequences was to watch Pat, his mother, emerging pink and steaming from the shower cubicle at home and drying herself, then applying lotion to the whole of her sumptuously voluptuous forty two year old body. Her 38C low hanging tits bounced and wobbled as did her round, curvaceous stomach and buttocks, as body lotion was not spared from reaching every crevice and crease. Her forever soft flat nipples never seemed to get much harder of projected, the opposite he had noticed with a lot of ladies he had videos of. Even the deep dark crack of her arse received lavish attention, as did the inner regions of her thighs and cunt. Her thick dark bush splayed wild over her lower belly, untrimmed and long and Tim recalled the shower clip where the water had sluiced through her groin and off the two to three inch long strands of pubic hair. She could easily match most of the mature Japanese ladies he had viewed, in terms of bush. When dry the thick, fluffy growth protruded way out from the line of her lower belly.

He decided not to switch to the latest clip of Pat, where he was both amazed and disappointed that after her shower, she had trimmed the length of her bush and also shaved it into a tight circular shape, which did reveal more of her generously proportioned cunt flaps. During the haircut, she had called Dave into the bathroom and asked him his opinion on the trim and its extent. Tim’s father had taken great pleasure in inspecting his wife’s crotch in great detail, fingering it and asking her to bend double while he viewed it from the rear. His hands roamed freely over her groin and buttocks, not all actions were aimed at the matter in hand, more like trying to get her worked up, but Pat had waved him away with mock disgust.

The conversation which was clearly picked up was all to do with their forthcoming holiday and the minute bikini Dave had persuaded her to wear while in the Mediterranean sunshine.

Watching the screen in rapture, Tim sunk his hand inside his travel bag, knowing exactly where to go and pulled out the pale blue pair of silk French knickers, stolen from the laundry basket at home.

That morning it had been the pair Pat had discarded before showering, dressing and taking Tim to the station before driving off with Dave, his dad, to the airport to start their cruise by flying to Venice. He smoothed the lush garment over his face and drank in the still fresh vaginal odours of his favourite model, in fact, to date - his only model, his mother.

It had all started when he was about ten. Why - it isn’t known, just that he had found a pair of his Mum’s panties on the landing, which she must have dropped when taking the dirty laundry down stairs to the wash. Idly he had picked them up to follow her down, but the material, always silk - as he found from then on, intrigued him, so he had run them through his fingers loving the soft almost molten fabric until he spotted the inner gusset.

The scrunched up sliver of material had crusty little stains on them, barely perceptible in colour but clearly tangible to touch. He realised they must be the leaks from her vagina and tentatively raised it to his nose. The aroma captivated young Tim and he drank in the private secretions from his loving mother. He had slunk into his room. Once more inhaling and with his inquiring mind, he tried to imagine how the material had become stained, it could be piss of course, but surely his piss would be similar and it didn’t smell like that.

He had been called to dinner and the knickers were hurriedly stashed away and forgotten for some time. Hiding the sliver of silk in his cluttered bedroom was no problem, but over a year or so, being forgotten in a young boy’s fertile exploring mind, they had never resurfaced, because so much of his time was taken in absorbing the internet and learning. Stumbling onto porn sites was a given and he found he was drawn to the mature figure; such were the initial sites he found by sheer chance.

Bimbos and glamour pusses never got a look in; he was locked and captivated by mother figures, probably because Pat’s breasts had supplemented his diet until the age of four. Being an only child without any female cousins and with a quiet, introvert personality, he was very much a mummy’s boy but without the sissy tendencies many similar boys adopt. Total immersion in mature bodies, underwear, habits, ailments, hygiene, clothing, mannerisms had followed and soon he was a fervent visitor to website full of mature ladies and their devoted followers, thence into the chat rooms.

In them, chatters discussed what they knew, saw and fantasised and inevitably boys/men talked about their mothers, grandmothers, aunties, sisters etc, leading onto voyeuristic opportunities within the privacy of home. The blue knickers had since been unearthed and formed a catalyst for a constant raid on his mother’s undies, not needing to steal any, there was always a stock of them in the laundry, which he would photograph and exchange for photos of other mature ladies underwear, all accompanied by lewd and graphic descriptions.

Equipment was discussed and soon Tim was purchasing covert camera equipment from his considerable savings and earnings from neighbours and friends of Pat and Dave who wanted computer help and advice, such was his expertise, as he hardly ever spent money on clothes and leisure. To the highly skilled IT specialist that he was by age twelve, he had rigged up minute cameras in the bathroom and his parents bedroom, finding to his shock that on top of the many clips of Pat undressing and dressing and doing many other things, he captured them making love, as it wasn’t his intention. Parents didn’t do that once they had children did they?

Once again the chat instigated outlets for his observations and soon video clips of his parents sex life and his mother’s ‘private’ moments were whizzing across the world, with her face blotted by means of new technology he had found, in exchange for clips of mothers, sisters of many nationalities. His parents did not own or operate a computer having no interest and could always ask Tim to source something if needed. His mother didn’t work, spending her time on charity volunteering and his father was a metal worker, so there was little risk of them finding themselves exposed as they had no knowledge of hacking into their, albeit loving, but sneaky son’s computer world.

Pat and Dave’s friends would have been surprised to find themselves widely spread over the Internet too, again with faces blotted out. Not only did Tim repair or trouble-shoot on their computers, but he could infiltrate files and found many intimate photographs and personal videos, easily downloaded and used for his own and web friend pleasure.

That evening after a meal, Edith and Henry went to a meeting and then on to a pub with friends and their visitor hatched his next plan, initially having wondered if his newest piece of gadgetry could be used in the short time at his grandparents, after all he had a mature woman at his mercy.

This needed care and time and now he had it, what a great second chance to test it, having captured his dear mother several times on it. The technical details were already imprinted in his brain and he entered the bathroom.

Coupled with the mini camera recorder hidden in his overnight wash bag and carefully wedged and positioned earlier to capture the shower cubicle and room in general, the tiny waterproof bullet shaped camera was easily and securely concealed in an identical toilet freshener in exactly the same place, the reason for his venture into town after arriving. It replaced the earlier freshener he had found on arrival, hanging below the lavatory bowl ring. OK he reasoned, he would obviously catch Pop having a dump as he had his Dad, but the target was Nan’s big arse and what would be a totally new, real, mature, ripe cunt taking a leak or a dump, but he’d deletes that, not finding it interesting.

He switched it to standby activated by sound and motion and left the bathroom to watch a compilation video of Jessie, one of his Mum’s friends taking a shower and undressing in the bedroom, when her and her husband stayed overnight earlier in the year. He had two pairs of Edith’s knickers to fondle and sniff, the previous found pink pair and the ones he reckoned she had worn while gardening, which were stained yellow, still damp and extremely smelly. He grinned at the state of the leg elastic, which had seen better days, being extremely slack, no wonder she had got that wedgie while weeding.

Theyreminded him of the large white pair he found in Jessie’s bedroom, when he actually found some pubic hairs and being a very black woman, fat with small tits and a huge bush which was part hidden by the sag of her enormous belly, he had extracted the hairs and kept them in a part of his wallet for a while. He played his Grandma’s knickers over his swollen knob end as he recalled the sight of Jessie’s weedy, white, wizened cock husband, giving Jessie’s big booty a slap as he passed her in the bedroom, while she was taking her knickers off.

Tim was particularly pleased with his planning on hearing that Jessie was staying and had at the last minute put more powerful light bulbs in the central ceiling light and also the two bedside lamps.

Knowing his stuff on videos, he reckoned that capturing a black woman would not be easy regarding light values and he wanked slowly as he watched the forty-four year old bend down, legs splayed, her back to the bookshelf camera and struggle to get her knickers off her feet. He played back one of his favourite sequences from this video, loving the glimpse of her big curly bush between her fat upper thighs, then she inspected and sniffed the gusset of the large whites before casting them on the chair. The very gusset that he had examined, finding and saving the pubes, which were caught in some clear but scaly stains.

He noticed again Jessie’s nipples, whose areolae were very large and dark, but the actual teats were almost imperceptible until she had her shower, where they extended into considerable buds, thick, black and glossy. His Mum’s never enlarged like that when showering, but they were gorgeous anyway and he never tired of looking at them.

The video ended and he did some tidying work on his screen and worked on some chat rooms, keeping his fellow voyeurs up to date with his movements and hopes. His joy at finding this new wireless tiny camera, which had it’s own infra red light, battery and micro SD card had been immense, once he had fixed his exchange visit to Dijon and what he hoped would be a return visit from one or both of the two teenage sisters. He would have liked Madame Girand to visit his home domain too but that was unlikely. She was a prime target in her own place, as were Chloe and Suzanne, the twelve and fifteen year old daughters. The information they had exchanged had revealed that Madame was from Fiji and her photographs thrilled Tim. She was aged thirty-eight, short and fat, with enormous tits and a big booty. Her skin was dark and she had lush thick black hair. The girls had much of the same in looks but Suzanne was chubby, while Chloe was slender. He had high hopes.

“So your new intake starts when?” asked Khoi at the pub.

“Two weeks, we need to do a bit more decorating in the lounge,” answered Henry. “She can’t wait.”

His nod at Edith returning from the ladies was met with a knowing grin from Khoi.

“I know how she feels. I can’t let a day go by without the craving. Your set up is OK in the new posh abode?”

“Posh? Yes, it’s fine, we’ve tested it and improved it and with the different room layout, of course we only have the one spare room, we might put bunk beds in but we’ll see, but our numbers will be reduced. Our grandson Tim is in there now. Got him for two days before he goes to France.”

“Tim? Giggled Edith, sitting down with a puff and sipping her G&T. “Lovely lad but so unworldly, has no street cred, is that what you call it? God knows what turns him on.”

“Yes Edith’s right. Quiet, dead straight, but nice with it. Our Pat has brought him up all right, he’s ever so thoughtful and interested. But I’ll tell you what, some of the kids we get in half his age have more street cred than Tim. The first one in the next intake looks a right little so and so. Cocky and smart by all accounts judging by her case file. From Brixton, eight, pretty though,” added Henry.

“Black I presume?” queried Anh, Khoi’s wife.

Edith and Henry nodded in unison. Khoi licked his lips.

Anh said, “Yum yum, she got a brother?” getting a shake of the head from Henry, who added.

“Been abused as far as the sketchy details we have so far.”

“Needs careful handling then,” murmured Khoi.

“Oh she’ll get that and more,” chuckled Edith. “We like handling all sorts don’t we darling?”

Henry grinned and nodded.

“Whatever you get and how many, doesn’t matter, you two always turn out classics. You could make a lot of money you know,” suggested Khoi. “Think about it some more, maybe I can help you.”

“We do alright and don’t want to run too many risks. We love it and we both get a kick out of it,” said Edith.

The conversation drifted on until they dispersed home, after agreeing that Khoi and Anh should visit the Ward household and meet Tim.

Tim was stark naked and wanking on top of his bed when they returned home, as he watched a video on his laptop of Pat having a groin wash at the bathroom basin, on the day after the shower had been disconnected for the building works. He had had a wash, a piss and done his teeth and replaced Edith’s underwear to the laundry basket. He was excited that he may catch Edith in the bathroom and wondered what state she would be in, as both of the elderly relatives liked a few drinks.

The old couple entered quietly although Edith had spotted that the guest bedroom light was on. They were pleasantly merry without being totally boozed up, but Henry decided he wanted to go to bed straight way. Various light switches could be heard and a door shutting and Tim realised it was the bathroom. He stopped the video clip on his screen and clicked an icon. On his fifteen-inch screen, there was Henry dropping his jeans and fishing inside his pants to take a piss. The lad decided he was not interested in this footage, but endured it and waited for more clues as to his grandparent’s movements. Pleased with the equipment however, he was totally tuned in now and soon the toilet flushed, water was running and he heard Henry gargling, cleaning his teeth. The lock was heard and nothing more and he waited for a while hoping the bathroom door would again be opened.

He reverted to watching his video clips. Edith, meanwhile tidied a few things in the kitchen, noting how Tim had washed and cleared his dinner plates away thinking ‘what a good lad he is.’ She wandered into the study and checked the phone for any messages and whilst listening to one unimportant but interesting one, her fingers played across the keyboard of their computer. Her practised fingers automatically, as if programmed, clicked on an icon and just as she realised there would be no reason to, she gazed with fascination at the screen.

‘That’s one serious piece of manhood’ she mused as she watched her charming grandson stroke his erection. She could see his laptop screen burning bright but could make out no images, as it was at an acute angle from her viewpoint, a hidden camera in a fire alarm in the top corner of the guest room, but it must have been porn, for him to be so horny. His hands were lovingly gliding up and down what looked to Edith as being a good seven to eight inches of thick wad and her mind immediately switched to her husband’s once prized possession of a good nine inches. ‘Good man Henry, the boy has got your genes’ she chuckled to herself.

Her gnarled, heavily ringed, old hand hitched under her flowing floral print skirt, as she spread her chubby legs and up to her big red, black lace trimmed satin knickers, to cup her large vulva. It was hot and sweaty, such was the thermal temperature added to her own body heat and atmosphere during the intimate conversation in the pub regarding the new chapter in the Ward refuge. Tim was idly cupping his balls and rolling them through his fingers and as Edith probed the thick bundle of genital flesh trapped beneath her underwear, she realised that she wanted to urinate and should really get to bed. She had intended to switch to another hidden camera, which would have been closer and also shown what he was viewing, but her ablution alarm was flashing inwardly.

Ideas were coursing through her as she switched over to standby and made her way to the bathroom. Tim heard the door click and swiftly changed the images on his screen. He was to be delighted with what he had captured in a split screen show. Edith stood in front of the toilet basin and turned, hitching up her skirt at the same time, giving superb views of her tanned, once muscular and now chubby, cellulitic thighs. She paused, then she unfastened and dropped the skirt onto the floor to step out, spotting some stains on it. Her hands slipped into the waistband of her large red knickers and she eased them over her bulky hips with the customary wiggle, bending to slide them beyond her knees. Tim was totally absorbed in the intimacy of the scene and over the moon with the success of his installation. She lowered her big white arse onto the seat and his view changed to a black and white, glowing, crystal clear screen full of her cunt and arse hole.

The other half of the screen showed her leaning forward, elbows on knees a studied look of concentration on her slightly frowning face. She mouthed a few silent words, then grinned as she awaited her flow to commence. He closed the screen split to concentrate on the under actions.

Her grandson grinned at the three pimples on her right buttock as he gazed in awe at the magnificent sight of her massively fat pussy mound squeezed between her flabby inner thighs. Tim tweaked the laptop and got an enhanced more colour resonant image. He recalled Pat’s pussy and its chubby thick dangling lipped structure, but Edith’s was enormous. The flaps of her inner labia seemed to stretch long, about five inches and while seemingly multi layered, they were thin and delicate, but floppy and they traced a messy, stuck together, wrinkled mass virtually up to the gargantuan knob of her shitter. Tim had of course seen intimate details such as this on his collective web sites devoted to such specialities, but this was his grand mother Edith Ward, the willing church volunteer, ex Girl Guide leader and devoted foster carer for the world’s poor.

As he studied her pooper hole, which was more a bulbous mound of solid looking muscle within a ring of other servant ligaments, Tim saw it flex and start to bulge out grotesquely, at the same time as a trickle of piss emerged from way up front of her labia, Much as he loved the detail and wholesale intimacy of this most private moment, he wasn’t into shitting, although of course he had seen his Mum shit several times in the few weeks since he had taken delivery of the camera. To see his grandmother shit wasn’t on his agenda, but to see that mighty exit door for her bowels in splendid action would be quite a sight he mused and after all, he had contacts that would be delirious at seeing it. The initial trickle of piss went sideways and he could see why, there being an overlap of right over left labia, blocking the opening crease forcing the weak start up surge to splatter horizontally and began its descent into the bowl from about four inches away from its source, wetting a lot of Edith’s thigh in the process.