Latina Granny Ch. 05

Getting off on the right foot is always difficult. My first day with the young men who were to be my charges did not start so badly. Most of it was taken up with luggage and furniture shifting and just getting settled into rooms. I posted a notice for a house meeting and dinner that afternoon at 5:30 pm. I already planned to have pizzas delivered for our first night together.

"Welcome, all of you! You probably already know my name but I'd like to get to know each of you better," I told the small group after we were assembled in the dining room.

My young charges were both thrilled and frightened at meeting me. They had all heard stories, I'm sure, but I knew how important it would be to take charge of the situation. Every one of them was seated now and had at least one piece of pizza in front of them. Peter of course, had three.

"I'm Febe. Tell me something about yourself," I told the young man nearest me to my right.

"Garth," was all he said. He was tall, very slender, very red-faced and for a moment I thought he was having a heart attack. His breathing grew rapid and every part of him visible above the table began to tremble. I waited but he remained silent and finally I had to move on to my next charge. Garth was going to be a challenge of a new sort.

"That's okay, Garth. Maybe we can talk later."

I moved on around the table, prompting them when necessary and doing my best to maintain the sort of maternal, yet restrained attitude I thought was appropriate. Stan and Evan sat together grinning, prepared, I think, for a wild sex party to break out at any moment. I just hoped they could cope with the disappointment that was about to come their way.

Peter introduced himself brusquely with his arms folded before him. Even he was dressed nicely and he had taken the time to shave too. I strode around the table, gave him a peck on the cheek and complimented him on looking so nice. I think I made a couple of the other young men a little jealous. I returned to my spot at the table before continuing.

Next came an astonishing duo, the Spirelli brothers. They were amazingly identical twins. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to tell them apart and I soon discovered the rest of their fraternity brothers simply called them 'Phil-Bill' to avoid having to know if they were talking to Phil or Bill. It didn't bother the twins because they were seldom, if ever, more than two feet apart. I quickly discovered they didn't finish each other's sentences very often. That was because they spoke and moved in unison most of the time. Their introduction was a little eerie. They both spoke at once, and aside from uttering their own individual names, they never once broke from their unison.

"Hi! I'm Phil/Bill and I'm happy to meet you. I am an identical twin as you can see but my brother and I have a lot more than looks in common," they said.

I stared at them, dumbfounded for a few seconds before I asked, "How will I ever tell you apart?"

They replied in harmony again, "Oh, you don't have to. We're sidekicks. We're hardly ever apart. Just call us Phil-Bill like everyone else."

Their harmony was slightly unnerving but suddenly I had visions of the two of them teamed up side by side pulling my hot and sweaty body across some deliciously rough terrain like paired draft horses. I blinked hard to shake that vision out of my head but it would not go entirely away. I glanced around the table at all these dashing (Does anyone use that word anymore?) young men and imagined all the possibilities just waiting to be explored. I almost began to tremble as I considered the opportunities I would have in the next few weeks to shape their young lives.

"Hi! I'm Evan and you already know me!" said the fellow next to the twins. He seemed awfully nervous for one of the only two young men I actually knew at the table.

"Hello Evan. Glad to see you. I've been looking forward to seeing you again," I said, smiling warmly. "It's going to be a great eight weeks together for all of us," I added. Evan shifted in his seat a bit at that.

I turned to face the last young man at the table and said, "Hello again, Stanley - er, Stan."

"Hello Febe. I hope you're up for a challenging summer." He replied with a sly smile.

"Love a challenge!" I shot back with a knowing smile of my own.

With introductions out of the way we poured sodas to go with the pizza and sat down to eat and chat. There was a moment of silence in the dining room as I dashed into the kitchen for paper napkins. There was murmuring among them the instant I rounded the corner. I overheard a couple of "Wows!" and a low hum that let me know they had watched me as I left the room and they appreciated my outfit.

For my first day in the house I had decided to break one of my own rules just this one time. When I took the job I promised myself I would not spend my own money on clothing. I had already told Stan and Evan as much during my interview. But I had gotten a little eager and decided I would need to make some sort of bold statement on my first day. After all, how would my young charges know what sorts of things I liked to wear if I didn't set a good - and bold - example right from the start?

I spent an entire afternoon shopping and came up with something quite simple but, as their sounds of appreciation let me know, quite saucy. I wasn't nude by any means but I certainly wasn't dressed at all like any sixty-one year-old grandmother they had ever met either. I was dressed in all black. My top was not quite see-through but if I hadn't be wearing a bra, they would all be staring at my nipples right now. As it was, my lacy little black uplift bra was quite visible underneath. I had to cut the label off because I discovered it could be read through the material of my top and I didn't think anyone needed to know my bra size. From the waist down I wasn't wearing much at all. I wanted very much to show off my legs. I may only be five feet tall but my legs are long, slender and, as I've been told by several young men in the past few weeks, quite shapely. I had on a pair of black gladiator sandals - the kind with straps and buckles all the way up my calves - with three-and-a-half inch heels. I wanted to wear shorts but had the hardest time finding what used to be called 'short-shorts' that fit me. I finally resorted to shopping in the little girls' department for a pair of black shorts and found a pair that was intended for a ten year-old who hadn't quite developed yet. I had developed and what I stuffed into these shorts was coming out of the bottoms and stretching the material to its limits. I don't think the manufacturer of my shorts would have approved, but my young charges certainly did. I was feeling positively super-charged at the moment from all the gasps and nervous sexual tension in the dining room and I just knew instinctively that it was my time to 'strike while the dick was stiff'.

"Febe, when do we start inspecting you for -um, commando status?" The question came from Evan, the more vocal and forward of the two young men who had interviewed me. I wasn't surprised by the question, but I had had some additional thoughts on the topic. We hadn't been eating for very long and he caught me with my mouth full.

"I've been thinking about that," I drawled out with a smile after I swallowed, "And I have a couple of changes I'd like to make there. I don't think you'll mind after you hear what I have in mind. First, I think it should be a daily responsibility and each of you should share in it. The person appointed Commando Watch for the day will be expected to inspect and remove my panties each morning before 7:30. It can be done as early as 7:00. I want to make certain there will be time for breakfast. Second, I am going to place a punchbowl on the counter just inside the kitchen," I said with a twist of my head toward the kitchen. My panties will be placed in that bowl. The Commando Watch for the day will put my panties back on me in the evening before I go to bed for the night. If my panties should happen to disappear from that bowl for more than a minute or two, I will terminate this agreement immediately. My panties are not to leave the kitchen. Is that understood?"

There were stunned looks all around the table. Every mouth was slightly open and for just a split second I was afraid I had demanded too much.

I looked directly at Stan and then Evan and asked, "You did explain this to everyone, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we did. But - but we just never thought you'd go through with it," Stan replied sheepishly.

"Do you think I will go through with it now?" I asked Stan while staring directly at him.

Stan squirmed slightly and nodded uncomfortably.

"Well then, are these conditions acceptable to everyone?" I asked.

After a calculated pause I looked directly at Garth, then Peter, then Phil-Bill (They even nodded in unison), Evan and Stan, forcing each one of them to nod or voice their consent to these terms.

With this much agreed to, I pressed on with the little speech I had rehearsed.

"Let's talk about my 'clothing allowance'", I said, making little air quotes with my fingers, "Each of you will be expected to provide at least one outfit for me to wear this summer. You can put any and all clothing purchases in or around the punch bowl. You will need to do this in the first week-and-a-half or I will resort to wearing my customary outfit for doing work around the house, a Cubs hat and sweatpants with a ratty T-shirt. If you have questions about what I consider appropriate, speak to Stan or Evan. They can help guide you.

"I also want a duty roster in that punch bowl tomorrow morning with all of your names on it for Daily Commando Watch. For tomorrow I want you, Evan to act as the first Commando Watch since you were instrumental in making this a part of my job requirements," I announced with all the authority in my voice that I could muster. I broke into a little smile then and added in my best little-girl voice, "You will be gentle with me won't you, Evan?"

Evan's cheeks reddened a bit and he grinned sheepishly.

I plunged on with my little speech, afraid I might lose any advantage I had if I didn't push forward now. "This will be the most demanding eight weeks of education you will ever have," I began. I paused again to let those words sink in. "At the end of this summer session you will either plunge onward into you college careers with all the skills and confidence it takes to become successful young men - or - you will go back to your hometown a little beaten by your experiences in school and you will get a nowhere job cutting the neighbor's grass or laying carpet. There won't be any in-between on the outcome of this summer."

Silence filled the room. In that moment I wasn't sure they were even breathing.

I went on with my heavy-handed monologue just the same. "You are all engineering students. Not surprisingly, the reason most of you are here for summer school are low grades in Freshman Comp. I've taken a quick look over your grades and the classes you're enrolled in. A low grade in Freshman Comp is a curable disease. I intend to cure you.

"Tomorrow when your classes start, I want the names and university email addresses of every one of your instructors. No exceptions. When you return to the house after your classes I expect each of you to submit a sheet with all your classes, your instructors' names, phone numbers and university emails, the class room, meeting times and a syllabus containing all assignments, test dates and the grading scale. We are going to study together. You and your fraternity brothers are going learn together. You are going to succeed together. And," I said with a dramatic pause, "I am going to be your guide."

I let my little speech sink in for a minute before continuing. I was almost quivering with excitement and feeling very much in charge at the moment and so I said, "We will begin our group studies tomorrow afternoon."

There was a long, nervous silence among them. They looked from one to the other among themselves with nervous flicks of their eyes. I'm sure they were wondering to themselves if I meant everything I'd just said.

I decided not to give them time to question me. I stood suddenly, stepped back from the table three or four feet so they could see my legs, looked down at them, turned slowly in a way that caused their young eyes to focus on them and asked, "Do you all like my legs?"

It was a stupid question but I had discovered young men liked to answer questions that didn't require a great deal of blood flow to their brains. I waited, turning and posing dramatically for them as I enjoyed their 'uh-huhs' and a low whistle or two.

"Do you think my legs would look better if they were tanned a little bit?" I asked them all.

"Sure!" and "mm-hmm!" came several voices almost immediately.

"They are a bit pale," I commented as I struck a particularly inviting pose with one leg out, ankle arched and begging to be ogled. "It's a shame I don't have a nice bathing suit to wear. I could study with you out on that lovely patio every afternoon if I had a bathing suit and someone to put a little suntan lotion on me. We could all study out there together."

The frat house had a modest back yard. Just outside and running the full width of the house to the garage was a lovely patio with a brick wall that appeared to be as tall or taller than me. There were at least two full hours in the afternoon when I could get some sun on the patio with a reasonable amount of privacy. It would at least shelter me from the prying eyes of the neighboring fraternities.

I let my suggestion for sunning linger in their minds before starting off in a new direction, "Well, I'll explain how we'll study together tomorrow afternoon. Right now I need to finish unpacking.

My room adjoined the kitchen along the back of the big old house. It was nicely furnished and more than spacious enough for me. In years gone by my room had probably been the cook's quarters. Today, its separation from the rest of the house's bedrooms only meant I had a great deal of privacy, especially at night. That was a real plus because I expected some of my nights might grow very loud.

I decided dinner had gone quite well. After all my tough talk concerning house rules and expectations, the conversation turned to classwork, the university's basketball team and their chances this fall and a few minutes devoted to some kind of math theory that got Evan, Peter and Stan into a heated argument that left me clueless. Only one of them had an eight o'clock class in the morning, but they all agreed to be up for breakfast. Now, my job description didn't say much about the breakfast meal but I had agreed to at least make sure there was cereal, English muffins and jam and even some yogurt and fresh fruit for their breakfasts. They agreed to clean up after themselves. Rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher was not so hard, I assured them. I went to bed that night still tingling with all that I had planned. I was going to drive them to work hard and get good grades. I was also going to reward them along the way for all that hard work. If all these things worked out, some of them might just land a date or two before the summer ended.

The next morning arrived bright and sunny for a late spring day. I dressed in my little orange sundress - the one with the halter-top and short hem. I knew they would all appreciate it and I hoped it would give them some ideas for the clothing purchases they were to make for me.

Upon entering the kitchen I discovered two items in the punch bowl already: There was a bottle of sunscreen lotion and a small, oblong velvet case. It was the sort of case that necklaces came in. I'm not a big jewelry wearer but I thought it sweet that one of the brothers had been so thoughtful. I decided to wait to open it until they were all assembled for breakfast. It would be my first chance to show my appreciation for their efforts, I thought.

All six of them appeared in the kitchen promptly at 7:00 am. As each one of them entered, their expressions suddenly changed from carefree smiles to a serious, reverent expression. I began to worry that they didn't like my little dress until one them spoke up and said in a surprised and solemn voice, "Gosh Febe, I didn't realize how beautiful you were! I didn't believe Peter and Stan when they told me you were a GILF!"

Sometimes young men can say the nicest, most flattering and sweetest things without ever meaning to or even knowing it! The compliment just took me completely by surprise and did a lot to relax me.

Having all these young men huddling around was a little unexpected and posed a slight problem for me. I had expected the person appointed as Commando Watch for the day would perform his inspection privately. There were now seven of us in the kitchen. The testosterone level in the room was high as a kite and it made me a little afraid.

"Good morning, gentlemen," I called out when they were all arranged in a semicircle around me near the punch bowl, "Good to see you all up and ready to take on the first day of the summer term!"

There were nervous greetings all around. It was clear they were here in anticipation of something important. I assumed they expected to watch as Evan peeled my panties off. That was definitely not going to happen. Surprisingly, each of them kept glancing anxiously at the package in the punch bowl, as if that were the important thing that had them so excited.

"Well, gentlemen, would you like to wait a couple of minutes while Evan performs his inspection in my room - or would you like for me to open the package someone's given me?" I asked.

No one answered right away. I could tell there was something afoot but I couldn't decipher their moods. Evan, as Commando Watch finally spoke up. I'm not sure he spoke for the whole group but he did manage to set things in motion again.

"W-w-why don't I perform my duties first," he said, a bit nervously and then added, "The package is from all of us. My brothers can wait a minute or two."

I smiled. There was a plan afoot, after all.

I grabbed Evan by the hand and pulled him toward my room, calling out to the others over my shoulder, "We will be back shortly."

I closed the door to my room firmly, hoping that would communicate a rather solid measure of privacy for my coming 'inspection' by Evan. Once inside Evan showed all the signs of a nervous young man who was unsure of his next move. I had that all figured out for him.

"Have you ever removed a lady's panties, Evan?" I asked.

"No - well, not yet anyway," he told me nervously.

"Okay," I began, "Why don't we begin slowly. I want you to be comfortable doing this. You know, you'll be doing it several more times this summer. . . . And there's one more thing I want you to inspect for. I'll explain about that in a minute. But right now I want you to lift my skirt up above my waist."

Evan grasped my skirt cautiously and pulled it up. He was several inches taller than me and I was certain he was only getting an eagle's eye view of my nether regions from up there.

"It may help if you get down on your knees. You're going to need a better view." I urged him.

When he was on his knees and had my panties almost at eye-level, I gave my next instruction. I think it shocked him when I said, "Now I want you to make sure the crotchband isn't caught in my pussy. All you have to do is slip your finger under the crotchband in front up on my belly and slide it gently down between my legs. Then you repeat the process in back to make sure it isn't caught in my bottom. Here let me make it a little easier."

I spread my stance a bit to give his fingers room. His hand shot up toward the front of my thong a little too enthusiastically and I grabbed it in both my own hands and carefully guided it to the front panel of material covering my landing strip. I selected his index and middle fingers, straightened them and then slipped them beneath the flimsy fabric.