Latina Granny Ch. 05

"There," I announced softly, "All you have to do is gently, slowly ease your fingers down until they are between my legs. If the material is caught anywhere along the way all you have to do is free it."

Well, the material was buried deeply between my lips. In fact, I had made sure of that earlier when I put them on. I wanted to make sure my young charge had a full grasp of his responsibilities as Commando Watch for the day. I found this all rather exciting and I was pretty sure he was going to have a couple of sticky fingers if he did his job properly.

"You do good work, young man!" I said to praise his efforts. To my dismay and pleasure, Evan had taken a slow, meandering trip down my belly and as he freed my thong he had taken the opportunity to diddle a bit with some of my more sensitive parts down there. I did my best to resist the urge to purr like a kitten and roll my hips as he brushed over my swelling clit.

"Now all you need to do is repeat the same process in back and my panties ought to practically fall off," I cooed.

Evan grew bolder. His hand slipped over the entire cheek of my ass. His fingers slipped under the strap of my thong where it lay nestled between my cheeks. His hand rested warmly upon my bottom and he began to caress my cheek softly. It was a lovely sensation and I had to fight the urge to roll my hips against that lovely hand of his.

"Pay attention to the job at hand, mister and don't get carried away!" I warned.

His hand began a slow journey downward, extracting the little thong cord as it went. He seemed to ignore my rectum but paid extra attention to the damp little portion of my pussy that he could reach. He was such a quick and thoughtful learner that he almost made me forget the second part of his responsibilities.

"You can go ahead and slip them down off my hips now, Evan," I instructed. When they were finally on the floor I stepped out of them and then added, "After you finish the second part of your inspection it will be your job to put my panties in the bowl. They don't smell too badly, do they?" I asked.

Evan placed them under his nose, drew a long slow breath through them and smiled. "No, they smell . . . um . . . lovely." was all he said. Then he inhaled their fragrance one more time.

"Remember, those go in the punch bowl!" I warned, "And I don't want to see them out of that punch bowl for more than two minutes at a time! Now, let's perform the second part of your inspection, shall we."

I turned slightly toward him, planted my feet several inches apart and asked, "Feel my legs, Evan. Do they feel nice and creamy-smooth? Or will you need to shave them for me?"

Still at eye-level with my opening, he looked up into my eyes and grunted, "Hunh?"

"Put your hands on my legs, young man. Feel them. Do your hands glide over my skin? Are they smooth as Teflon - or are they rough? You be the judge," I cooed. I already knew the answer. I had shaved last night. It would be almost a week before I would need someone to shave me from toes to landing strip but I wanted every single one of them to be prepared for this responsibility.

Evan didn't seem to be getting it. My request caught him completely off-guard. I'm not sure he knew what to think but his hands came to rest slowly, instinctively upon my calves just above the straps of my gladiator sandals. He began to stroke my legs cautiously. He was certainly enjoying the feel of my bare flesh but I was positive he had no idea in the world why I had asked him to stroke my legs. Again, young men prefer short, simple questions, especially when all the blood they possess has left their brains. My questions may have been too difficult for a young brain deprived of blood right now. That's the price I paid for giving Evan a big old erection.

I struggled through a long, delicious stretch as his hands roamed dreamily up and down my slender legs. His touch was firm, gentle and made me want to groan out. I did so enjoy his touch, even if he didn't have a clue why he was doing it.

"Well, what do you think?" I demanded when I was positive I couldn't bear having his hands doing such lovely things to me another second.

Evan was truly into the task I had given him. He didn't answer. Those gentle young hands of his continued to roll softly over the backs and insides of my thighs. He was slowly edging his way closer and closer to my pussy. Much as I would have liked it, we didn't have time for him to get familiar with my sweet little pussy just now. It was time for breakfast and I still had a gift to open.

"Evan," I said, grabbing his hands firmly in mine and prying them off my thighs, "Yes or no! Do I need to shave my legs today?"

"N-no . . . I guess not," he answered. I had disappointed him, I'm sure.

"Ok, then pull my skirt back down, pick up my panties and let's go have breakfast." I snapped.

The rest of his brothers heard us come out of my room and crowded into the end of the kitchen around the punch bowl in no time at all. Apparently they had taken it upon themselves to begin breakfast. A couple of them were still swallowing and wiping their lips when we all converged.

I turned to Evan and asked him, "Do you have something to report to your brothers, Evan? Am I a commando?"

Evan responded by dropping my panties in the punchbowl and announcing, "Febe is a commando!"

"Shall I go ahead and open the present now?" I asked after noting their smiles at this news.

Several voices murmured "Yeah!" all at once.

"Should I know who it's from first?" I asked.

"It's from all of us. We went together last night and a couple of us made a late-night 'suicide run' for it," came the answer from Peter.

I couldn't imagine where they found a jewelry store open so late but decided I had best open it. The natives were getting restless.

"Well, let's see what you all got me," I said as I plucked up the little jewelry case. It was light - almost as if there were nothing in it. That turned out to be almost correct.

I flipped the lid up to reveal that it was filled with bright pink material. I could see cords of the same color as well. I puzzled over the contents for an instant until one of my young charges blurted out, "Take it out! Hold it up for us!"

Only when I had part of it out of the little case and dangling across my palm did I recognize it as the top of what could only loosely be called a bikini. It was small. I wasn't sure the cup part would even be wide enough to cover my nipple. There was almost nothing to it and the material was so sheer that I just knew wearing it might make me too tempting for a horny bunch of young college studs like these.

In that moment, as I held that flimsy little piece of material with its cords dangling from my palm, two conflicting emotions overwhelmed me. First, I was absolutely flattered that six young men would go to such lengths for a present. They had been very thoughtful. Second, if I wore a bikini this tantalizing for them this afternoon I just knew there would be a six-stud pileup and I would wind up at the bottom of the wreckage. Wearing a bikini this small and this sheer in the presence of my young charges was a barefaced invitation to be fucked until I was nothing more than a numb and babbling, cum-soaked disaster. My mind screamed "No, put it back in the case!" but my pussy whispered "Oh, yeah! Just imagine all the possibilities!"

"Ooh!" I purred, not knowing what else to say, "You're all so thoughtful." I was rolling the filmy material nervously between my fingers, unsure what I even wanted to say.

"I'm flattered by your gift . . . b-b-but I could never wear this in public. I-It's so revealing," I told them in hopes of excusing myself. I yearned to scream an excited 'yes' instead, but held myself in check. "I would have to know you all a lot better before I could ever wear something this . . . this - this lovely in your presence."

They were crestfallen. A couple of them even moaned. This time Stan spoke up. I think he was desperate to see me in this bikini. "Wel-l-l Febe, what if you wore it later in the summer? By then you'd know us all better. A lot better," he suggested. He was trying to sound casual but I caught a hint of distress in his voice.

"You know Stan, that's not a bad idea. I might feel much more comfortable with all of you in a week or two. It might not take the whole six weeks. I just have to trust you all a little more. We all have to earn one another's trust, you know."

Garth surprised us all by speaking up. "Like the way my brothers here earned each other's trust," he said quietly.

I wasn't the only one surprised at hearing Garth speak up. His brothers all looked his way, then nodded in agreement. There was more to the young man than I expected and probably more than his brothers knew. The bathing suit in my hand felt so feathery-soft and ever so inviting to the touch. I decided I was probably just as excited by the prospect of wearing it for them as they were about seeing me in it. I was pretty certain from the looks in all their eyes they didn't want me to wear it for very long.

"Don't be surprised if I just decide to appear in it some afternoon," I said teasingly and then added, "Until then I guess I'll just have to wear something a little more conservative. You'll still have to apply my suntan oil, though."

I didn't think they would be too disappointed if I wore a little black pushup bra and the short-shorts I wore yesterday. I would definitely be baring enough skin to get a good start on a tan.

I refolded the bikini, placed it back in its little case and put it on top of my dresser next to my makeup. I soon discovered that every morning as I pulled on the panties one of the young men would soon remove, I would run a hand over the case and smile. As I touched the case I imagined just how I would look in those two little patches of pink cloth and string and the expressions these six young men would have when they first saw me in it. Every morning I would ask myself if this was the day to put it on.

Life in the house began to take on some degree of order in that first day. Horny as young men can be, these young men were intelligent and motivated to succeed. On top of this, I think I intimidated them. Most, if not all, were virgins and though they had heard stories about me, perhaps seen me at their dance and even heard a wild story from their Pledge Captain, Monty or Trent, I'm sure they didn't know what to do with me - yet. I was going to change all that.

Lunchtime came and a few of the young men were out of the house for classes. I left food in the refrigerator, collected syllabi and instructor information from Garth and Peter to enter into my student database. I studied them both and then made my way to my room to change into my sunning outfit. I emerged a few minutes later, my laptop and their class information in hand and ready for entry made. I my way to the patio only to discover both young men in their swim trunks, apparently waiting for me.

"Where are your books? Your laptops? Your papers?" I asked them abruptly. "You are here to study this summer," I reminded them. Both young men grunted and reluctantly trundled off to fetch their books. I would have to repeat this process with every single one of the six.

When Garth and Peter returned I handed them the bottle of sun lotion and said, "Here. Since you're the only two here I guess you'll have to put lotion on me."

I lay down on the beach towels I had spread out. With my backside to them, I looked back over my shoulder to discover they were both in a state of complete shock at my suggestion. I decided the only way to get them over this kind of shock was for them to get your hands dirty - or in this case, oily.

"Garth, Peter, put a bit of oil on your hands and rub it on my legs, please," I said flatly. I spread my legs slightly to give them better access and then looked straight ahead waiting for them to begin.

It took a minute, but they did finally begin. My feet, ankles and calves received great attention but they would go no higher.

"Come on gentlemen!" I called out in frustration, "Don't you dare let my bottom burn. The sun is hot today!"

Their hands felt so good and I just knew they would work even greater wonders if they could only get over their nerves. I needed men's hands caressing my body! It had been days since my visit with Trent. My body ached for much more than the mere sensation of oily hands on my thighs and ass. Like it or not, I had a plan in motion and I had to stick to my own timetable.

"O-o-oh yesss!" I cooed when they grew braver. "And don't forget the inside of my thighs. They're very sensitive - to the sun."

To make my point I rolled my hips slowly, invitingly and spread my legs even wider for them. Both Garth and Peter seemed to draw encouragement from this and were slowly taking turns buttering the inside of each thigh way up high at my crotch. They alternated this with kneading the cheeks of my ass like bread dough. They were definitely getting a rise out of me. A woman my age isn't supposed to get this moist, but my pussy was positively humming by now and every bit as slick as my ass and thighs were.

I had to do something to interrupt all these good vibrations or my master plan would be dashed. Another minute of this and I would find myself bare-bottomed, up on my hands and knees with one of my young charges thrusting away furiously at my slick little pussy.

"Time to put some oil on my arms and shoulders," I called out.

Peter and Garth moved quickly up alongside me, softly clasped my arms and began working their magic once more. I loved all they were doing to me. I was so relaxed now that I could have easily fallen asleep then and there - if they hadn't already gotten me so darned aroused.

"Should we undo your top so we can put lotion on your back and shoulders?" Peter asked.

"Oh, yes!" I answered without thinking. This went against all my plans. It could spell disaster for all my good intentions.

Too late now, I felt my bra suddenly coming undone and four hands hastily slipping the straps off my shoulders. They weren't wasting any time now. I was certain they would offer to oil my boobs next. My nipples even tingled a little at the thought of their oily hands caressing my breasts, gliding softly over my belly, slipping easily through the gap between my boobs and making my nipples even harder than they already were.

They were busily oiling my back and shoulders, their hands slowly inching ever downward in hopes of groping a breast when I interrupted their subtle advance, "I think it's about time you began your studies, gentlemen! Time to crack those books. If I remember correctly, you both have papers due in your comp class on Thursday. I've already taken the liberty of contacting your instructor and she tells me you have some reading and some research to do before you begin writing. I expect first-rate work from both of you. Oh," I added, "And I will be reading those papers before you turn them in! Your paper may due in class on Thursday but they are due to me on Wednesday morning."

Peter and Garth both moaned at that unexpected bit of news but I wasn't going to take any of their frat boy crap on this. All six of these young men were capable of 'A' work and I had a plan that I was absolutely convinced would accomplish all the things I had promised Larry when he hired me. If I had to wait a few more days to hear the glorious, rich sounds of my own bells ringing it was a price I was willing to pay.

I could feel the crushing disappointment in the way their hands suddenly tensed before going limp. "Aw . . . 'right!" Peter moaned under his breath. Garth mumbled something too and then both hands withdrew slowly. They pulled back and were soon sitting on deck chairs, books in their hands with thoroughly unhappy looks on their faces.

I didn't blame them for being unhappy. Goodness knows I was unhappy too. At the very least I craved strong, oily fingers prodding my clit right now. I would have happily stroked both of their dicks to wonderful, noisy, messy climaxes with a pair of well-oiled hands as well. But I had a plan and I was sticking to it.

There was a huge amount of work to do in those first few days and I waded into it with all the energy I could muster. I hadn't felt this alive in twenty-five years and I owed it all to the rediscovery of my sex-drive. Some people (not my young charges, mind you) might say I was just being a filthy-minded old slut but that wasn't it at all. Young men found me attractive and I appreciated that almost instinctively. Having so many young men's eyes on me at that frat party had opened my eyes to that. I dearly loved to have my bell rung frequently and vigorously - even if it caused me to use the foulest and most vulgar of language in my mother-tongue. I confess I am guilty of absolutely adoring every bit of their attention.

I was also a mature woman who had raised children, successfully managed my family's affairs and my successes had earned me the respect and even admiration of all who knew me. All these things seemed to be coming together now, in this place, and with these young men. It was a perfect and lovely storm, I happily decided.

Now, all I wanted to do was start a few handsome, bright young men out right in this world. If that meant demanding extra effort from them and encouraging them to deliver their best by occasionally tantalizing them, I would do it. If it meant having six delicious young, stiff cocks at my disposal both night and day, well, that was just a sacrifice I would have to make. After all, I am a very dedicated person who is willing to make great sacrifices.

It was one of several close calls in those first few days as Housemother. Gradually I grew stronger, more aware and more able to resist the distractions and temptations that come with living with a bunch of smart, good-looking and devious young men. Somehow I think they discovered just how much of a distraction they were to me - no matter how much I tried to hide it. I suppose they hoped to weaken my resolve. There were moments when they almost succeeded.

Trent called me on Friday morning of that first week. "How are things going, Febe?" He asked.

I knew right away what he really wanted. I could hear his taunting confidence loud and clear over the phone.

"Are my brothers treating you with respect?" he asked in his next breath. This time I could tell he was concerned.

"I'm fine, Trent. All six young men living with me here are treating me with respect and I'm getting along just fine," I told him. It was almost the complete truth. I was afraid if I told Trent how horny these fellows made me, I would hear him knocking on the door before I had a chance to hang the phone up. I knew exactly what that would lead to and though it was definitely an appealing idea, I had a plan and I was going to make it work. My plan did not include getting turned upside down and inside out by my granddaughter's boyfriend any time he showed up. I just hoped I could survive another day or two without an orgasm.

"Listen, Trent," I said after taking a deep breath and gathering what nerve I had left, "Why don't you come by - just to see how things are going - next Tuesday? Why don't you come by late in the morning some time before lunch?"

I wanted to sound cool and in control.

"Sure you don't want me to come by sooner?" he asked. He was taunting me again and for a second I could almost feel his cock growing stiff in my hands.

"I'm sure. Tuesday morning, then?"

"Oh yeah!" he replied.

At least I had something to look forward to now. It was becoming more and more difficult to carry out my duties as housemother. I hadn't been this horny in, I don't know how long. My fingers grew shaky each time I handed one of my young charges a bowl of mashed potatoes or a cereal box. This morning as Phil-Bill (yes, even I had come to think of them as a single person) performed their duties as Commando Watch, I almost broke down and begged them both to finger-fuck me. I was feeling pretty pathetic for almost succumbing to my base desires like this.