Grandma's Little Helper

Utica New York, in the summer of 2008.

*******

It was another hot day in Utica, but thankfully there was a breeze that made my wait bearable. I had been outside of the supermarket for about a half hour, but I would have done it standing on my head if I had to. The woman I was waiting for was worth it.

When I first arrived outside of Price Chopper, I had first just watched the woman of my dreams as she worked the cash register, observing her cheerful attitude as she rang customers up. Everybody seemed to like the perky blonde cashier, or at least that was the way it seemed to me. Then again, I guess you could say I was prejudiced in that regard.

She was only about 5'2" and maybe 100 pounds soaking wet. Her hair was blonde - and only her hairdresser and I knew for sure - and she wore it cut short. She had a petite body, but that was because she wasn't one to flaunt. Matter-of-fact, she went out of her way to minimize her assets.

The name tag that rested on the bosom of her tan store issued uniform read Betty, while the people of the neighborhood knew her as Mrs. Comstock. I had another name for the woman; this woman that I had loved and lusted after for as long as I could remember. I called her Grandma.

****

Grandma didn't notice I was at the store until I went inside and bought a soda. She had just finished ringing up the previous customer when she looked up and saw me. Immediately, her face lit up with a smile so genuine that I knew she was glad to see me.

If Grandma ever stopped greeting me like that, I don't know what I would do. Things are different now than they used to be. I used to visit her to talk and play games, and maybe have a sandwich or something.

These days, when I see her, while I still enjoy her company and her cooking, I have something more on my mind. Thankfully, she's not offended by my impure thoughts. In fact, quite the opposite is true.

Grandma says that I've given her a new lease on life. "You've jump-started my heart, Robbie!" she's said on more than one occassion. "You make me feel young again."

All of this came about because of what she called "a moment of weakness", but while it might have started out as that, it's evolved into something far greater. You see, while I have a girlfriend, Amber, who's 18 like me, she's more of a ball-buster than anything else.

My lover - the woman who excites me and satisfies my needs, is Grandma.

***

"Oh, your fella is here to help you get home, I see," the black woman who worked the customer service center said when she saw me carrying the bag of groceries she had bought and walking toward the exit. "Wish I had a grandson that took care of me like that."

Grandma only smiled at that, giving a cheerful wave and we headed out onto the street for the three block walk to her house. Grandma didn't really need the help, because the bag was light and the neighborhood wasn't all that bad, but I liked the idea of people thinking I was taking care of my Grandma, even if they didn't know the truth.

"Scorcher out here today," Grandma declared as we neared her house, a modest single family home on a street that was beginning to show signs of decay. "No wonder people were coming in dripping with sweat."

"It was worse before without the breeze," I told Grandma, noticing the perspiration that darkened the armholes of her uniform.

It was a sweet sweat, that much I knew. Like everything else about Grandma, it exuded a pleasant scent that never failed to get my pulse racing. I had experienced the joys of that moisture many times; wearing it and tasting it, and hopefully very soon I would be once again savoring the flavor of Grandma Betty.

That was what I used to call her, Grandma Betty. I had two of them, but in my heart there is only one, so I just call her Grandma now. She's told me that I could call her Betty now that I'm a man, and especially when we're having our special moments, but I can't do it. I just like "Grandma" better.

After we got inside of her house, I told her to sit in her favorite chair while I put away her groceries, and then poured her a big glass of lemonade. Grandma smiled when she saw me return, and the drink seemed to be an elixir of sorts.

Maybe it helped when I took off her shoes and massaged her feet, which were hot and always bothered her after a long day at work. A few minutes of my rubbing seemed to do wonders, and as I worked my way up to her ankles Grandma smiled when I bent down and began sucking on her toes, nibbling on the hot little guys while I rubbed her ankles.

"That feels so nice," Grandma said. "I thought work today would never end. Your old Grandma ain't what she used to be."

"You aren't old. You're beautiful," I told her while I let my hand slide up the loose slacks to her calf. "I feel a little fuzz here. Want me to shave your legs again, Grandma?"

"I think I'm okay for now, Robbie, but thanks."

Shaving her legs and underarms was something I offered to do as kind of a joke one time, and Grandma said that she only said okay because she knew I wouldn't do it. That taught her never to doubt my willingness to do anything for her, and besides, it turned us both on, especially when I did her armpits.

She didn't have much hair growing there anymore, but she said that in her hippie days back in the 60's she used to let the hair under her arms grow. She showed me a picture of her and Grandpa that proved it. She was wearing a Grateful Dead tie-dyed tank top, and she wasn't kidding when she said that back in the day she had more hair under her arms than I do, and that's a lot.

Anyway, after turning down my offer of a shave, and figuring she was really tired, I told her that I would be taking off. When I said that, she seemed shocked and asked me if something was wrong.

"No there isn't, Grandma," I said. "It's just that you seem worn out."

"I'm getting my energy back, and the higher your hands keep moving the better I feel."

I was massaging her slender yet shapely calves now, and Grandma was sighing as I kneaded them, squirming in her chair.

"That's my boy. You know Wanda, the woman that works the desk?" Grandma asked me, and I nodded. "She told me that you were so cute, and that she thought you were a precious little fellow. You know what I wanted to tell her?"

"No Gram."

"I wanted to tell her that although you may seem like a cute little guy, that precious boy's got a big beautiful cock - and I'll bet it's hard too, isn't it Robbie?"

I blushed, like I always do when she talks about how big my cock is, but she knows I love to hear her say it. I guess it's not all that big, but 7" inches or so looks impressive on a twerp like me, and Grandma knows me well. After a few minutes of being around her and touching her, I was every bit as hard as she had figured.

"Stand up Robbie," she said. "Let me get those shorts off of you."

I let Grandma take my shorts down, enjoying the way she would always run her hands down my hairy legs, and then she was unsnapping my boxers, freeing my erection from their confinement. She cackled as she tried to grab the swaying dick that waved obscenely in front of her nose.

"Gotcha, big boy!" Grandma said, her weathered hands gripping my cock tightly as her mouth took the head of it in.

Soon one of the hands dropped down to my nuts, and as she squeezed my furry sac her mouth began swooping further down the shaft until she was close to sucking on all of it.

"Used to be able to deep throat your Grandpa," she said once in passing. "Guess that means that either I'm slipping or you're bigger than him. No matter. Guess I just love big cocks."

"Oh," I groaned as Grandma worked on me furiously, and when I ran my hands through her silver hair she stopped.

"You're not going to cum, are you Robbie?"

"Please," I begged.

"But your Grandma really needs it today," she said, teasing me like she did sometimes. "Will you be able to get it up again?"

"You know I will," I said, needing release in the worst way.

"How long will it take you?"

"15," I said first before changing it. "10 minutes."

"Okay," Grandma said, and then went back to going down on me.

Her hands were magical and her mouth seemed to be able to suck the orgasm right out of me. I came in a torrent, the jets of cum feeling like they were exploding out of my dick, and Grandma didn't stop until she had drained me.

"Now off to bed!" Grandma said as she climbed up out of her chair, a trickle of my seed still in the corner of her mouth.

***

I undressed Grandma Betty after we got into her bedroom, undoing the uniform top and peeling it off of her pale, slender shoulders. Coaxing down the matching slacks, I squeezed her rear end through her full cut panties, feeling the soft plaint skin beneath the cotton, before undoing her bra hooks.

I was looking at Grandma Betty in the dresser mirror, watching our reflection over her shoulder like I always did. She knew how much I enjoyed looking at her, especially when I unhooked her bra and freed her breasts from their restraint.

Grandma had been ashamed to let me see her breasts when we had started our adult relationship, embarrassed at the way her breasts had sagged over the years.

"They used to be so firm," Grandma had lamented many times, until she finally got the hint that I liked them just fine like they were now, and the unveiling this time was no different than any other, and a tingle went through my just-relieved loins as I watched the cups explode off of her when the last hook opened up.

"Aah!" I sighed, brushing away the undone bra to get at her tits, my hands grabbing the bell-shaped whoppers as they eased down to her tummy, the spongy tit flesh hot in my hands. Her tiny body looked even smaller with those big hangers of hers dominating her frame.

"You shouldn't wear a bra," I said once again as I kneaded her tits hard, feeling the fat nipples blossom as they usually did in reaction to my rough handling - rough because that was the way Grandma liked it. "Let the world see these beauties."

Grandma shook her head, smiling as she watched the reflection of me massaging her globes, and raised her arms so that she could reach back and run her hands through my hair.

I would have loved to have people look at how big Grandma's tits really were when they were out of the unflattering and confining bras she insisted on wearing, but she was modest and liked to keep her treasures hidden from everyone. Everyone but me, that is.

"Mmm," Grandma sighed as I let my thumbs slide over to her underarms, stroking the moist hollows under her slender arms and feeling the faint trace of peach fuzz in the center of her armpits.

The aroma of Grandma filled my nostrils as the friction of my rubbing raised a pleasant mixture of cosmetics and Grandma's natural scent, and Grandma protested, as she often did when I would do that, but she did nothing to stop me either.

"Oh my Robbie," Grandma said as I leaned around her and let my tongue do what my thumbs had done, savoring the sweetness of her beauty. "I've been working all day."

I knew she liked it though because her armpits were very sensitive, and that was probably the reason she had raised her arms and invited the affection to begin with. Grandma let me nibble under her arms as I slowly worked my way around to face her. Now, with those breasts facing me, I bent down and buried my face in her cleavage while pushing her pendulous breasts around my head.

Easing Grandma down to the bed, I put her on her back and spread those pale slender legs of hers, exposing her sex. Grandma had a lot of hair between her legs, although she said it had thinned over the years. There was still a wide triangle of light brown and grey there, covering her delta, but I could see the lips of her pussy clearly through the fur.

Grandma had big labia, and she was a little wet already by the time my mouth went down there. She's said that when you get old women tend to dry up, but that's seldom the case with Grandma, whose pussy was already moist before I started lapping at it.

Grandma wasn't much for foreplay, at least not at the start. The nights when I would spend the night, she would enjoy the romance and the tenderness of teasing, touching and caressing, but not right away. I only got to lick her pussy for a minute before she was pulling me up to mount her.

You see, Grandma wanted it. She wanted me to get on top of her, shove my cock into her and start humping. She wanted it hard and fast and didn't care how long I lasted. "Screw the Don Juan crap!" she had once said after having a glass of wine with dinner. The longer the better for me and maybe for her too, but what she really wanted to do was get off and get off fast. It could not be too hard or too fast to suit her.

"Oh yes!" Grandma squealed as my cock tore into her pussy, and I felt her legs around my hips as I sunk in to the hilt.

The bed squeaked as I began thrusting into her with all my might, and Grandma grunted each time I slammed into her, moving us both a little closer to the headboard above us. The squishing sounds of her pussy added to the symphony we were creating, and then I heard Grandma squealing as she often did, trying to stifle the noise she made as she came so her neighbors wouldn't know what was happening.

I felt her pussy clamp down around my cock a couple of times, and then her body relaxed a little. As for me, I was far from through. In and out just like a machine. I was relentless and she was going to cum again if I had anything to do with it.

Leaning back a bit, my hands found her tits, which were still prominent even with her on her back. Her pale pink aureoles were gigantic, the pebbled surface as big as drink coasters, and her nipples were like bloated pacifiers. I braced myself on those doughy delights, and then she was cumming again.

"Oh my word!" Grandma groaned as her body shuddered after she came.

"Can I?" I gasped, still pounding away on top of her. "Can I finish between your tits?"

"Sure you can, honey," Grandma said.

She was probably not going to cum again, I figured, or she would have asked me to keep going, so I pulled out of her pussy and climbed up so that I was straddling her upper torso.

Grandma was waiting for me, and was already pulling her tits up and making a nice deep valley for my throbbing cock. The moist cleavage welcomed me, surrounding my stiff dick with pliant tit flesh as Grandma squeezed tight.

"You gonna hit your Grandma in the face when you cum this time, Robbie?" she asked as she rolled her jugs around. "I like it when you shoot your wad all over me."

"Uh!" I moaned, knowing that when Grandma started talking dirty I was not going to be able to last.

Something about that sweet, innocent grandmotherly face looking up at me while she spouted filthy things made me lose control quick, so I struggled while enjoying what I was doing.

"That's it, Robbie," Grandma said. "Fuck Grandma's tits. I can see the head of your cock every time you push forward. You should see it! So big and fat and red it is, and the opening gets so wide when you push forward too. You want to cum don't you?"

"Yes," I gasped.

"Your big cock is so hot between my tits," Grandma said. "I can feel your balls rubbing on my stomach. They're probably so fat and bloated right now, and so full of cum that they probably ache. Cum for me, Robbie. I want you to cover me with your spunk."

I came, and although my vision got blurry as sweat poured into my eyes, I saw a rope of cum splatter on Grandma's face, followed by another spurt hitting her chin and neck before my orgasm ended with my seed dribbling out around her collarbone.

"That's my boy," Grandma said with a sigh, and I worked my way upward so that Grandma could nurse on my deflated dick as a kind of dessert.

I reached over to the night table and grabbed a tissue, carefully wiping my cum from around her eyes at she sucked on my limp dick.

"You got me good, you rascal!" Grandma said, playfully biting my dick before letting it go.

"You asked for it," I reminded her as I eased down next to her and cuddled for a while.

***

"Thanks for helping me home, Robbie," Grandma said later as she walked me to the door.

"My pleasure, Grandma," I said as we kissed the kind of kiss that only lovers share - a kiss complete with tongues and bodies grinding together.

"Uh - were you planning on coming over this weekend?" Grandma asked. "If you have other plans..."

"Can I stay over Saturday night?" I asked hopefully, and Grandma nodded with a knowing smile.

"Will you be - you know - okay by then?"

"I think so," Grandma said. "I hope so."

"Me too."

It usually took her a week to fully recover from our Saturday nights, or so she claimed, which usually ended with my favorite thing, fucking my Grandma in the ass.

Grandma Betty likes it too, even though she said on account of my dick being so big she could only take it up there on special occasions. I suspect she's kidding about that, and probably doesn't like it as much as I do but knows how bad I need it.

Can't help it. When I position us so that we can see perfectly in the dresser mirror, and I mount her and stick my cock into her tight ass while seeing her tits swaying down, it's heaven. I think she likes the beginning when I rim her out good to make her wet and relaxed before I lube her thoroughly. Sometimes we begin by licking each others anuses in the 69 position, lapping away with our faces buried as far in as possible.

I waved back when I got down to the steps, nodding a greeting to one of her neighbors who lived next door to Grandma. As I walked away I heard the old woman talking to Grandma.

"Such a sweet little boy," the blue haired woman said to Grandma.

"He's sweet alright, but he's not a boy. He's a man. Eighteen already."

"Oh. Little fella, isn't he?"

"Well," I heard Grandma say before I got out of earshot, and I laughed when I imagined what was going through her mind just then.

***

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