Bingo Jackpot
"He's there with his nan. Her mate wins the jackpot. Celebration drinks. Nan goes home early. Her mate doesn't."
Friday night bingo with Nan.
It's our thing—has been since Grandad passed. She likes the company; I like keeping her happy. Plus, the bar's cheap and the crowd's entertaining.
Tonight, her mate Barbara's there too.
Barbara is Nan's age—sixty-something—but doesn't act it.
Leopard print top, tight jeans, heels she probably shouldn't be wearing. She's big—properly big, with tits that defy gravity and an arse that takes up two seats. Bleached hair, full makeup, enough perfume to choke a horse.
"Alright, gorgeous?" She winks at me as she sits down. "Your nan said you'd be joining us."
"Wouldn't miss it."
"Good lad." She pats my cheek. "Get us a drink, would you? Vodka tonic. Double."
The game starts.
Nan's focused, dabbing her card with precision. Barbara's more social—chatting between numbers, flirting with the caller, making comments that make me choke on my lager.
"I haven't had a good seeing-to since 2019," she announces during the interval. "Need to sort that out."
"Barbara!" Nan's scandalized.
"What? It's true." She looks at me. "You young lads don't know what you're missing. We've got experience."
I don't know where to look.
Then Barbara wins.
Five thousand pounds. Full house on a rollover. The whole place erupts.
"Drinks on me!" she shrieks. "Everyone's having doubles!"
The night becomes chaos.
By 11 PM, Nan's flagging.
"I'm gonna get a taxi, love. My hip's playing up."
"I'll come with you."
"No need." She glances at Barbara, who's surrounded by well-wishers. "Keep an eye on her, would you? Make sure she gets home safe."
"Course."
Nan hugs me, whispers in my ear: "She's harmless. Mostly."
"Mostly" turns out to be an understatement.
With Nan gone, Barbara's energy focuses on me.
"Come on, love. Dance with me."
"There's no music."
"So? I'll hum." She grabs my hand, pulls me up. "I just won five grand. Least you can do is pretend to have fun."
We end up at a booth in the corner.
Barbara's pressed against my side, two more vodkas in, talking about her life—her dead husband, her kids who never visit, her loneliness.
"Everyone thinks I'm just a laugh," she says. "But I get lonely too, you know?"
"I know."
"Do you?" She looks at me. Really looks. "You're a good lad. Coming here with your nan. Not many young ones would."
"She's my nan. I love her."
"That's what I mean." Her hand lands on my thigh. "Good lad."
"Barbara—"
"Shh." She leans closer. "I'm not stupid. I see how you look at me. Same way I look at you."
"I don't—"
"You do." Her hand slides higher. "And I've just won five grand. I'm feeling generous. Lucky, even."
"You're my nan's mate."
"And she's gone home." Her breath is warm against my ear. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."
We get a taxi to her place.
A flat in a tower block, cramped but clean. She kicks off her heels and pours more drinks.
"Right." She turns to face me, hands on her wide hips. "I'm too old to play games. Do you want this or not?"
I should say no.
"Yes."
"Good answer."
Barbara's body is a revelation.
Massive tits that spill out when she undoes her bra. Belly that's soft and round, hanging over her knickers. Hips that flare wide, thighs that could crush me.
She's sixty-something, and she's magnificent.
"Well?" She spreads her arms. "Worth five grand?"
"Worth more."
"Now you're just flattering me." But she's smiling. "Get over here."
I eat her out first.
She deserves it—all those years alone, all that loneliness. She gasps when I taste her, grabs my hair with both hands.
"Oh fuck—oh fuck—where did you learn—"
I don't answer. I just keep going.
She comes twice before she's pulling me up.
"Inside me. Now. I want to feel a young one again."
I fuck my nan's best mate in her little flat.
She's loud, demanding, telling me exactly what she wants. Harder. Deeper. Right there.
"Fuck—I'm coming—don't stop—"
She comes around me with a scream, and I follow her over the edge.
After, she lights a cigarette.
"That was better than the jackpot."
"Thanks. I think."
"It's a compliment, love." She blows smoke at the ceiling. "Your nan can never know."
"Obviously."
"Good." She stubs out the fag, rolls toward me. "Now. How's your stamina? Because I've got a lot of catching up to do."
I don't leave until noon the next day.
Nan calls while I'm in the taxi.
"You get Barbara home safe?"
"Safe and sound."
"Good lad. She texted me this morning. Said she had the best night in years."
"Did she?"
"Something about the jackpot going to her head." Nan laughs. "Silly mare. Anyway, same time next Friday?"
I look at my phone. There's a text from Barbara: Next Friday. Just you and me. Leave your nan at home.
"Wouldn't miss it," I tell Nan.
Friday nights just got a lot more interesting.