Grandma Receives a Visitor

I have always been proud of my youthfulness. I drive a short distance and walk on a golf course nearly every afternoon, or evening if it's summertime with the longer daylight. I attend city and state meetings and luncheons with many of my contemporaries. And, let's not forget the chores of keeping up a 10 acre farm. I stopped having animals around years ago.

I delivered my only child at 17, making my husband the very proud father of a beautiful baby daughter. Unfortunately, Dave passed away when Debbie was eight years old. Things were not that bad. We had insurance that pays off the house, plus the modest amount of money given to us by the insurance company. Knowing everyone in our small touristy town in central Vermont helped me to land a job at the local hardware store. Debbie and I settled into a quiet, but comfortable, existence.

Now granted, I had my suitors. Not a vast number, mind you, but a small handsome lot, they were. I have always been hardheaded and independent, so I blame myself that nothing ever came of any of them.

The years passed and Debbie, like myself, married at 17, after much crying and heartbreak on my part. Eventually, agreeing to give my consent, she left me to move to Virginia with her husband, who had joined the Navy. I had suspected that Debbie was pregnant. It was confirmed five months after they left and it would be five years before I would meet my grandson.

As the years passed, Debbie and my grandson, Bobby, would visit me for months at a time, as her husband deployed.

Now that you know a little bit about me, I will tell you my little secret. Here I am at 57, and I have been as horny as a jaybird since my Dave passed away 32 years ago. I must tell you that, as he took care of my needs in death, money wise, he saw up to my sexual needs while he was alive. Oh! We had great fun in the bedroom, and nearly every other place else you can think of. He chased me and caught me in a cornfield one day. What a memory! Anyway, those memories and his upstanding name in the community overshadowed any desire to actively seek another man. Modest as I am, I knew most of the single men in the community thought I would be a good prize, the widow of Dave Parcell. In my time, I could turn the heads of quite a few of the married men too. I was a good piece of ass. My Dave told me that and I believed him.

Now don't get me wrong, I am no spinster. After Dave passed I learned quickly to please myself, and I did, two of three times a day and nearly every night. In retrospect, I was probably so numb from sexually pleasing myself that my suitors found me cool and distracted. I tell you, it was difficult keeping Debbie from knowing or catching me in the act. In some ways, her leaving home was a godsend as I was free to walk around my country home nude or discovering new ways to please myself. At the chance that you may think bad of me, I must tell you the rounded bedposts and doorknobs became my best lovers, a long with the occasional soda bottle. If you're not a female, you're just jealous.

Now! I got distracted for a moment. Here's the secret I've been aching to tell someone for months.

Bobby, my grandson, arrived, not unexpectedly, at my door three months ago. I had received a phone call from my daughter telling me to expect Bobby. At 23, after a bit of college, he had decided to see some of our great country before he settled down. I opened the door a month later, a Monday I believe, to see this 6'2" lanky redheaded boy standing before me. I had not seen him in over four years.

"Hello grandma!"

"Hello yourself!" I replied, welcoming him with a big hug.

After cooking him his favorite supper, we sat till after midnight catching up on the previous four years. He gave me the scoop on his mother and father and all appeared well.

"Did you walk from town? How long do you intend on staying with me?" I questioned.

"The weather was perfect for a walk. Didn't want to bother you." He replied. "Mom said she was sure you had a lot of chores that you could use help with. I have to pay for my room and board somehow, you know. Is a month too long?"

"Don't be foolish." I scolded him. "I do have a few things that need looking after, but in no way should you consider such for room and board. I'd even pay you. It will help you in your travels."

The next week and a half gave me renewed vim and vigor. It was, yes, intoxicating, to have a grown man around to cook for and do some of the more strenuous chores. More often than not, we ignored the chores and drove into town to eat ice cream, visit friends, and just show him off as my grandson. I felt more alive than I had in years.

I awoke on a Wednesday morning and began to prepare breakfast, while rounding up clothes to start a wash.

Without thinking, honestly, I opened Bobby's door and shuttered with embarrassment, seeing him lying on the bed masturbating. You know, yanking his cock. It was the most embarrassing moment in my life.

"I'm so sorry, sugar!" I stammered, as I made a hasty retreat, closing his door.

When the poor boy came down to breakfast, it was hard for me to make I contact with him.

"Grandma, it's all right." He assured me. "I should not have been doing that here anyway."

"I should have knotted first." I replied. "I just wasn't thinking. A young man needs to release pent-up tension. And why shouldn't you feel free to do that here?"

"Well, let's you and me just pretend that it didn't happen?" He offered. "Our little secret?"

"What! You think I would jump on the phone and blab to your mom?" I teased.

"No! Grandma!" He laughed. "I appreciate your open-mindedness on the subject."

Well, I'm keen on keeping our little secret but I'm having a hard time forgetting that it happened. Replaying the event in my head, he didn't seem concerned about covering himself. Am I exaggerating? I stood there for 4 to 8 seconds and he had to have Been as surprised as I was. He could've reacted, covering himself, or something.

Now, he hasn't acted any differently. And I haven't been either, openly. But, I am sore with all of the attention I've been giving to my, you know, my pussy, the last couple of nights. To be more exact, my little Rosebud. A clit, I think it's called. All I can think about is his, okay, I'll say it, his rather large cock. I know, I couldn't see all of it, he had hold of most of it, but I saw the head and it was plenty big enough.

Two weeks had passed, and this morning I was a bit surprised when Bobby came down for breakfast. He walked up behind me at the sink and put his arms around my waist, giving me a huge squeeze, catching me completely off guard. Not that I needed my guard up, mind you.

"You know, grandma?" He began. "You have to tell me why you've never married again? You're a good-looking woman. I'd marry you if you weren't my grandma. I'd be sleeping at your front door step, I would."

"What makes you think I need a man? Though you would be a good catch, I figure."

As he was eating breakfast, I pretty much related to him the reasons why I had never remarried. Pretty much the same story I have related to you, leaving out the more intimate things, of course.

"Grandma, I still don't understand how a woman gets along without a man." He said. "Mom and dad are always going at each other, you know, in the bedroom. Don't you ever have yearnings in that area?"

"And how do you know such things as to what your mom and dad does in the bedroom, young man?"

"I have been hearing them through the wall for years." He replied. "I just figured, if mom is like that and daughters usually take after their mothers, I was just wondering about you."

"You have been doing a lot of figuring?" I challenged. "I suggest you concentrate on the chores for today and you won't have the strength to be figuring."

"Oh! I have lots of strength, grandma." He replied. "If you know I mean?"

"Are you always this open about such matters?" I inquired of him. "You're going to make your shy grandma blush with such nonsense."

"You didn't blush when you came into my room about knocking." He challenged. "In fact, the look on your face seemed to show curiosity?"

"Enough boy!" I threatened. "You'd best eat and get out to the barn before I take a broom to you!"

Now, I'm not naïve. I knew what my grandson's thoughts were. He saw me as a woman alone in the world without a man, which translated to, a woman in desperate need of sex. If I could have told him how good my sex life really was, he might have had a different attitude. Or so I believed at that moment in time. But let me continue. Later that evening, as we drove back from the ice cream parlor, I had my own questions.

"I suppose when you left home, a good-looking young man like yourself must have left some pretty young girl crying her eyes out?" I queried.

"To be honest, grandma, I haven't had very much luck with girls." He replied. "I've had a few girlfriends but I've lost them to other guys. It's been downright depressing. It's one of the reasons why I decided to tour the country."

"Are you telling grandma that at 23 you had never been intimate with a girl?" I asked, in a concerned tone.

"My only intimacy has been listening to mom." He replied

I disliked my next question but his admission, twice now, of having knowledge about his parent's intimate moments nagged me from the first time he had mentioned it.

"Have you ever, and I hate to use the word spy, so I'll just say, have you ever seen your parents................ engaging in sex?"

"No! But to be honest, I tried." He replied. "I have only watched a few XXX-rated movies.

"The question had been nagging at me. I'm sorry." I apologized. "I guess the reality of it all is whether your watching your parents or a movie it's about the same thing, if you're not truly a participate it leaves you frustrated."

"So, you're saying that you're frustrated too?"

"Do not put words into my mouth, young man." I reprimanded, without much punch. "We are talking about you."

I freely admit I felt sorry for my grandson. I myself have found self-gratification to be quite pleasurable. But, I had memories and fantasies of those memories were easily conjured up. It bewildered me that the two of us could talk about such intimate things so openly and without embarrassment. With humor even. I could clearly tell he was more focused on my being a woman, than his grandma, and in his appraisal, in need of sexual companionship.

We said our good nights and retired early, around 11:30. I undressed and took my usual bath. Sitting in the warm water, I pondered what he might be doing. After the little talk we had, I know what I was in the mood to do, so I was pretty certain as to what he was doing, or would do before going to sleep.

I exited the bathroom and stood in front of my full-length mirror, studying my naked body. I had to admit that even with the long walks my thighs were a bit beefy. They touched at least 3 inches at the top. My legs appeared long for my 5' 9" frame and I, as always, judged them to be my best asset. My breast had stopped being perky years ago and looked a bit heavy. All right, they even sag a bit maybe! My nipples, I thought, are large enough but do not stand very high. I twisted my hips to study my ass. I saw a few small dimples here are there. My ass was bit larger than I would prefer, but all in all, I had to give my ass a B+. I saw a slight belly but it did not sag, thankfully. Now my mound! Now that was a thing of beauty, densely populated, with only a few white hairs showing around the edges of dark brown hair, matching the color of my boyish haircut. To give myself a true evaluation of my femininity, I had to add the saying, "after seven years a woman could consider herself a virgin again", but then I remembered those testy soda bottles. Believe me when I say, I never pushed them in very far.

Then came a light tap at my bedroom door.

"Come in." I said, without thinking, honestly, distracted and brain dead, I was. "NO! NO! Wait Bobby! Don't............."

It was too late. My grandson was a good 4 feet into the room. I grabbed for my bathrobe, which was, unfortunately, a good 5 feet away.

"Bobby! I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking!" I stammered, apologetically. "I was sort of daydreaming."

"Looking at yourself in the mirror, naked?" He questioned. "You do that often?"

"An older woman needs to study her body, occasionally. It's good health practices. But, you're in now. What can I do for you?" I replied, tying the cotton belt around the bathrobe. I noted that he was wearing short pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. And appeared, freshly showered, his hair still a bit wet.

"You're a beautiful woman." He praised.

I did not thank him, remaining quiet.

He continued. "Anyway, I am not sleepy at all. I was wondering if you were still up? I thought maybe we could talk a bit more?"

I was strongly tempted to tell him yes, that I was tired and sleepy, but he looked really down and I just didn't have the heart to turn him away.

"I am just a bit tired but not sleepy at all. Come on and sit with me on the bed and we can talk a while longer." I suggested. "Here, I don't bite. Recline back on the pillows and be comfortable. Now tell me, when you leave here where are you headed and how long do you think you're going to be gone from home. And, just in case, if I happen to fall asleep, just cut my light off and close the door."

I listened to my grandson ramble on for more than an hour, injecting a question here or there, and still did not get a bit sleepy. I commented occasionally to give him the impression that I was hanging onto every word, but my mind kept drifting to a single thought. Should I give this boy, my grandson, an experience that he would remember a lifetime? I arrived at a decision, "why the hell not"

We were both lying on our backs and I pulled at the belt on my bathrobe to loosen it a bit, before I rolled to my right side to face him.

"Bobby, you know that a woman is supposed to check for breast for lumps occasionally? That's why I was looking in the mirror." I said, as nonchalantly as I could. "I thought I felt something. I was just wondering? Do you think that you could check right here for me, see if you feel something?"

I pulled the bathrobe open to expose a good portion of my left breast, pointing with my index finger to an area near the bottom. He rolled slightly to his left and held his right hand a few inches of my breast.

"What exactly am I looking for?" He queried.

"Anything that feels hard, like a lump. You have to squeeze kind of hard." I replied, as seriously as I could. "Don't worry about hurting me."

I studied his reaction looking for something in his face that would indicate what he might be feeling, or thinking, as he squeezed my breast.

"Do you feel anything?" I asked.

"No. Can't say that I do." He replied, then asked. "How about the other one?"

"No, I just figured it was this one." I replied

"No lump. That's a good thing, right?"

"Yep! That's a real good thing!"

I intentionally did not try to move away from him and he continued to squeeze my breast, but in a more gentle fashion.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself?" I said softly, with a slight teasing tone.

"I am, but I'll stop you want me to, grandma?" He asked.

"I really see no reason for you to stop. It feels kind of good!" I replied. "But how about you start calling me Connie, instead of grandma. Calling me Connie would be a little more casual and comfortable, don't you think?"

"Yes, Connie." He acknowledged. "A whole lot less formal!"

"Exactly." I replied, with an endearing tone. "Massaging grandma's breast, a no no. Massaging Connie's breast, a bit more acceptable. Still, it must be our little secret.

"Certainly." He readily agreed.

I let him fondle my breasts for a good while, even rolling back a bit to give him access to the other one. Glancing down, I could see clearly the outline of the beginning of his erection. Now mind you, I had no game plan here. I was just letting my grandson enjoy the touch of the opposite sex.

"Bobby." I said sultry like, and using my index finger again to point to my hardened nipple. "Put your lips right here. Suck it lightly. Just like that, sugar!"

Bobby's short pajama bottoms were loose enough around the legs to allow him to totally surprise me by bringing forth his very erect cock, with his right hand. I was quite taken aback by the boldness of his move and was at a loss for words are action. My surprise dissipated rather quickly and I lay there watching Bobby stroke his cock as he sucked on my nipple, with his eyes shut. I could see that he too had quite a bit of pubic hair, all as red as the hair on his head. His lack of tanning, his freckle covered body and lanky frame was almost funny to me.

I don't know for sure exactly how long I let the boy continue. He didn't seem to be pushing himself to orgasm. Maybe he had taken such a daring course of action for my benefit. I have to admit I was content with the moment. Almost.

"Bobby, may I?" I queried, placing my left hand on his hand and seeking to displace his hand entirely.

He allowed me to do just that and I began to pull at his cock and he began to suck on my nipple a little harder. He had a free hand now and it landed on my hip. I released his cock and removed his hand, then, returned to his cock. Three times I did this. Tiring of the game, I let his hand remain on my hip. Soon, his hand roamed over my hips and ass, squeezing my ass nearly everywhere his hand landed. You would've been proud of me, and my presence of mind to remain cool. Whatever game plan I did have it, certainly wasn't going to be on a fast track. I was going to ensure that this young man knew a woman's body thoroughly when we parted company this night.

As should be expected, at least I did, his wandering hand eventually tried to slip beneath the bathrobe. We repeated the game three more times before I let him proceed. He covered the whole of my ass all over again, squeezing. His fingers probed the crack of my ass, reaching far enough down to touch a bit of fur. Nothing serious, mind you. I was ready to capture his hand. But, it let me know where his desire was headed. I figured it was about time to give the boy a look at the real treasure.

"Sugar, scoot down, a bit." I coaxed. "Let go, baby. You can suck on them some more later, if you want."

As he maneuvered down, I held firm to his cock and basically inverted myself, 69. My inclination was to position my pussy in the right position for him to study it to his heart's content. All the while, I stroked his cock, getting a pretty good view myself of his cock and balls, finally appraising his cock as more than adequate.

I discovered that my other hand was pretty much free, also, and I released his cock long enough to change hands and partially remove his pajama bottom.

I felt his hands run up and down, and a round my legs. I felt him fumble with the cotton belt, untying it and pulling both sides apart to get me, pretty much, naked. I now watched him as he ran his hand and fingers through my thick bush. Finally, I moved my right leg to allow him to see his desire.

"It's the most beautiful thing I had ever seen!" He said.

"I must tell you what a handsome, big and hard cock you have!" I returned. "And please, don't be shy. My pussy is there for your pleasure."

I felt his fingers probing and I have to admit at this point it was beginning to take its toll on my cool mindedness. I'm here to tell you that more than a few moans escaped my lips and it took all my concentration to keep my body still. My attention to his cock, stroking it, increased considerably, as my free hand fondled his balls.

"Grandma....... I mean Connie, your clit is almost as big as your nipples." He informed me as he fingered it lightly.