Spending Time with Grandmother

Ethan looked upon it doubtfully. He had never seen, much less tasted porridge. His usual breakfast was Coco Sweetie Pops from which a considerate manufacturer had removed all nutrition, and this grey clag did not appeal.

Sally doled out some dollops of porridge into two bowls and they sat at the counter on bar stools to eat and Sally asked conversationally, "Do you often have porridge?"

"'Ever 'ad it 'efore," Ethan said through a mouthful of the viscous clag.

"What never!" Sally exclaimed; "do you like it?"

"Sor 'ight," Nathan replied, trying to keep on the good side of Sally.

Sally eyed his clothes and said, "Are you going running in those?"

Ethan had forgotten the running and for a moment he floundered before saying, "Oh...I...er...intend to change before we go."

Sally looked at him curiously and asked, "Do you often go running?"

Ethan swallowed and said; "No, not often, I'm more the gym type," which was not true unless sharing a bed with a woman could be classified as going to a gym.

"I usually run before breakfast," Sally said, "but I thought I'd better make it after breakfast this morning so you could sleep in for a bit."

Ethan thought that this sounded ominous. He had risen at about eight o'clock, and by his normal standards that was the middle of the night.

"Would you like herbal tea or decaffeinated coffee?" Sally asked.

During his flower child phase when he was sixteen Ethan had drunk copious quantities of herbal tea that purported to be marigold tea. When at seventeen he had entered upon his neo-Nazi phase he had renounced herbal tea for ever, and resorted to beer and schnapps, which were the favoured drinks of the other three members of his Nazi cell. At eighteen he had become a communist and drank vodka neat. At nineteen he had abjured communism in favour of Uncle Sam and took to drinking coke. Decaffeinated coffee had never come over his horizon, although there was probably some political organisation that favoured it.

To drink or not to drink? that was the question. He was on the verge of another change in his life, and what more suitable than..."I only drink water at breakfast time," he said.

"Excellent," Sally responded enthusiastically, "I'll join you."

As she filled two glasses with water poor Ethan realised what he had done; he had condemned himself to water for breakfast for the rest of his stay.

He helped Sally to wash up, and he got the saucepan to clean. The removal of the porridge proved to be difficult, especially in the corners. He recalled how easy it was to wash up after Coco Sweetie Pops; you only had to rinse the plate, and when the packet was empty throw away.

He retired to his room to change. He had only brought two pairs of shorts with him. The tight fitting pink ones from his flower child days which allowed for an excellent display of his manly assets, and the khaki ones from his Neo-Nazi days.

In deference to Sally he chose the Khaki, but still thought it would serve her right if he wore the pink ones since she was wearing such an immodest shirt.

As Sally was bare foot Ethan decided he would also be without foot covering; a decision he would shortly repent.

Joining Sally in the kitchen they then made their way down the garden and through a gate in the back fence. Ethan had been right about the land sloping down steeply beyond the fence. It was covered with low scrub, and as they proceeded down the air was rent by a series of "Ows" "Ohs" and "Ouches" emanating from Ethan as his feet came into contact with stones, sticks and prickles.

He concluded that the soles of Sally's feet must resemble a rhinoceros hide.

On the beach he sat down and removed a number of spikes from the soles of his feet.

Sally point to the left and said, "We'll run to that headland and back."

Ethan was aghast; to his eyes the headland seemed at least twenty kilometres away. It was in fact about three kilometres as Sally had said.

"We'll take it easy this morning, Sally said, setting off at a speed Ethan judged to be about 20 kmph (actually around 8 kmph).

He made it to about two thirds of the way to the headland and then collapsed onto the sand.

"I...pant...can't...qasp...go any...pant...farther...gasp...pant..."

Sally surveyed him for a few moments and then said, "Not very fit, are you? You wait here."

She sped off towards the headland while Ethan watched her diminishing figure. Two bikini clad girls spread towels on the sand near him and sat down. As they sat, chattering and giggling Ethan scrutinized them. They reminded him that he hadn't copulated for nearly a fortnight; hand jobs were okay but never really replaced the real thing.

"I wouldn't mind having it off with that one with the big boobs," he thought. "No, perhaps the other one; they're not as big but they look firmer and she got the best legs."

He let his imagination roam up those legs. The girl had flame red hair and he wondered if it was real or dyed and what colour her pubic hair was. The colour of pubic hair always gave them away because they never thought to dye it, like the older woman he'd had an affair with for a while. She had blonde hair, but when he saw her pubic hair it was a dull mousy colour.

Sally's hair was silver, "Is her pubic hair silver as well?" he wondered.

The girl with the big boobs caught him looking at them and said something to her friend. They rose and made their way to the water, waggling their buttocks seductively.

"Mmm, perhaps the one with the big boobs after all," he decided, "she's got the best bum."

Sally interrupted his reverie, "Come on Ethan, we'll walk back."

He reluctantly withdrew his gaze from the girls who were just about to enter the water.

There were more ouches as they went up the slope, and in the kitchen Ethan picked more prickles from the soles of his feet.

"Herbal tea or decaffeinated coffee?" Sally asked.

Ethan wondered why ordinary tea was not classified as herbal, since it grew on bushes, but he asked for decaffeinated coffee.

"I've got some domestic chores to do," Sally said, "so why don't you have a look around the place for a while, and then we can decide what to do this afternoon."

* * * * * * * *

Ethan wandered round the outside of the house. It stood on nearly half an acre of land and he decided that his grandmother must be financially well off to be able to afford the house and the land.

He noticed that there was a chicken run but no chickens; the front garden had well tended flower beds and at the back there were more flower beds close to the house. Along one side and close to the fence were what he took to be vegetable patches, but they were covered with weeds.

He took another look at the array of tools in the garage, and concluded that they were a mixture of carpenter's, bricklayer's and mechanic's tools. He tried to imagine Sally using the tools, but the image didn't fit, so who was the wielder of the tools? A layer of dust seemed to indicate that they had not been used for some time.

He heard Sally call from the backdoor, "Lunch is ready Ethan."

They sat down to chestnut soup, and Ethan wondered if Sally's fine complexion was due to her vegetarian diet.

"Would you like to go for a swim this afternoon?" Sally asked.

"Okay," Ethan replied, wondering if the two girls he had seen on the beach were still around. He conjured up a mental image of them and was still undecided which one he would prefer, the one with the big boobs or the other one. Ideally he supposed, having both of them would be the best thing.

When they finished lunch and had cleared up Ethan went to his room to change. He had only one pair of swimming shorts, and these were very short indeed. He was of the opinion that they showed his substantial manly assets off to good effect, and were a lure for females.

Whether that was true or not might be arguable, but certainly Ethan had ever since puberty been rather successful with women, his preference being for older but well preserved women whom, he considered, to be much more giving and energetic in their love making.

He put on the swimming shorts and then put the khaki shorts on over them. Having learned his lesson he also put on a pair of sandals.

Sally was waiting for him in the kitchen. She was wearing a colourful striped beach coat and was holding two beach towels, one of which she tossed to him and said, "Let's go."

Ethan managed to negotiate the scrub covered slope without pain, and on the beach they spread their towels.

Preparatory for swimming Ethan took off his khaki shorts, but a moment later he wished he hadn't.

Sally removed her beach coat, and Ethan stared at her in amazement.

True she was wearing a one piece bathing costume that would have been perfectly respectable if it had not been made up of about ninety percent gauzy material. Even the cloth that covered her breasts and sex organ was very flimsy.

Ethan felt the warning tingle in his groin that presaged an erection. Up rose his manly member, struggling to escape from the imprisonment of his swimming shorts. The shorts seemed to be having difficulty in retaining the feral beast.

Fortunately Sally said, "Come on, let's swim," and ran down the beach into the water.

By the time Ethan got to the water Sally was swimming strongly away from him. He followed her, but clearly she was a stronger swimmer than him and he couldn't catch up with her. Not only was she stronger, but she had more stamina since she kept going for some time after Ethan had to stop.

The impact of the cold water had reduced Ethan's penis to manageable proportions, so he returned to the beach and started to dry himself.

Sally joined him, and it started again. She was standing there drying her hair with her arms raise. This gave an extra lift to her breasts that already had enough lift to cause a monk to forget his vow of celibacy.

Ethan quickly spread his towel on the sand and lay face down on it so as to hide his wayward penis. After a while Sally spread her towel and lay beside him.

Ethan's resentment was ratchet up another notch. She had no right to wear a swimming costume like that, but he wasn't sure what sort of swim wear was suitable for a grandmother. Perhaps there should be a law against grandmothers swimming then the question of what to wear would not arise.

He tried not to look at her, but could not resist a peek. She was lying on her back, eyes closed and her arms raised and hands behind her head. Her breasts were elevated again and the flimsy cloth covering her breasts was still wet and semi-transparent and hinted at ripe nipples.

His first full day with his grandmother and already he wanted to copulate with her.

"I must be depraved," he told himself, "wanting to hump my own grandmother." He was reminded of the three other peoples' grandmothers he had humped, but of course, it was different when it came to your own grandmother.

He had read somewhere that people don't have sexual desire for blood relatives, but if that was so, why was there so much in the media about incest?

It was difficult because he'd never consciously seen his grandmother before and it was not easy to take her on board as a blood relative. It was as if she was just some woman he had met and was staying with.

He gave up the thought and the idea of not looking at Sally, and tormented himself by letting his eyes roam over her body and features. He knew quite well that if she had not been his grandmother, now would have been the time to attempt a seduction.

Sally's eyes opened and she turned her head to look at Ethan and caught him staring at her. A slight smile hovered over her lips and she said, "Shall we go back to the house?"

Ethan, embarrassed that she had caught him surveying her he said, "Yes, fine."

He draped the towel round his waist to hide his discomfiture and together they made their way to the house. Back inside Ethan hurried to his bedroom and stripping off his khaki shorts and his swimming shorts he lay on the bed and masturbated. As he prepared to ejaculate he tried to fantasise the two girls he'd seen on the beach that morning, but Sally's image kept intervening.

When he had finished he continued to lay on his back staring up at the ceiling, his hand still on his penis. His sperm that on first being discharged had been warm now grew cold and uncomfortably sticky. He used his towel to remove it and then rose and put on jeans and a shirt.

Sally was in the kitchen preparing a potato pie. She was still wearing her beach coat so Ethan could look at her in relative safety. Having got the pie ready she put it in the oven to cook, and saying, "I'd better go and change," she left him.

Ethan wandered into the lounge and for a while stood contemplating the portrait of the mysterious Claudia. "Who is she?" he wondered. Sally had seemed reluctant to talk about her but she must have been significant in Sally's life or why should she have her portrait hanging there?

On first seeing the portrait Ethan had been struck by Claudia's seductive, even predatory look as she seemed to gaze out of the picture at the viewer. He found himself both attracted and repelled by the picture but could not understand why.

He gave up trying to analyse the portrait and his response to it, but was determined to try and get Sally to say more about Claudia.

He went back into the kitchen to find Sally clearing up the utensils she had used when making the pie. She had changed into a white loose fitting dress that hung from the points of her breasts in lengthwise folds down to just below her knees.

Ethan's resentment boiled up again. He wondered if she knew what he was feeling about her, and was deliberately tantalising him. He sat at the table watching her. With every movement her breasts seemed to vibrate. He was about to return to his bedroom to deal with his erection when Sally announced that the pie was ready.

* * * * * * * *

After the meal they retired to the lounge and seeing the picture of Claudia, Ethan had it in mind to ask Sally about her, but he had another burning question that took priority.

"Sally," he said, "in your letter you said you'd tell me about the rift between you and the rest of the family; is now the right time?"

She sighed and said, "I knew you'd ask me about that some time and now is probably the best time. If we are to establish any sort of ongoing relationship its best you know the truth.

She glanced at the portrait and said, "It was really all about Claudia."

"Claudia?" Ethan echoed, feeling that he was about to kill two birds with one stone.

"Yes, it was not long after you were born and Claudia came to me to have her portrait painted. During the sittings when you're painting someone's portrait you get to know your subject rather well, but this time I think it was Claudia who got to know me well; so well in fact that she discovered something about me I did not know myself."

"It was at the end of the last sitting; she came to me and putting her arms round me she said, 'Thank you Sally,' and then kissed me on the lips. The kiss hung on and then we were deep kissing each other. She undid the shirt she was wearing, the one you can see in the picture and she took my hands and put them on her breasts."

"I'd always enjoyed sex with Michael -- your grandfather -- but I'd always felt there was something missing. That afternoon with Claudia I discovered what it was, it was to be able to fondle another woman's breasts and suck her nipples, and to have her do the same to me; it was to taste another woman's genitals, to suck her clitoris and...."

Her voice faded away and it was as if she was visualizing that scene, and then she went on, "That afternoon Claudia and I became lovers and remained lovers for twenty years."

Saying "Come with me," she rose and led him to the studio and opened the door to the room she had not shown him earlier. It was like another lounge, only smaller. "This I call my private space," Sally said. "It the place I use -- or used to use -- when I wanted time to myself."

Almost dominating the room were two large portraits, the subjects of which Ethan easily recognised.

One was of Claudia who was naked, half sitting on a couch with some cushions at her back. She had large pendulous breasts with brown nipples; her legs were slightly parted to reveal at her groin a thick bush of pubic hair and he could see her thick lipped vulva. One arm was outstretched as if to touch the viewer with her hand.

There was the hint of a smile about her lips, but it was her dark eyes that drew attention. They gazed out of the picture and in their depths could be seen a mixture of longing and lust.

The other portrait was of Sally. She too was naked and lying elegantly stretched out on a couch or bed, her long shapely legs on display. Her body was half turned to the viewer and one hand was resting on her mons, with her forefinger reaching out to touch the top of her vulva that was without pubic hair so Ethan did not get the answer to his previous conjecture about the colour of her pubic hair.

Her other hand lay over a breast, her first and second finger parted, and between them a ripe pink nipple. It was as if she was deliberately and invitingly drawing attention to those erogenous zones.

As Ethan looked from one picture to the other he realised that the subjects were not looking at the viewer. They had been painted and hung so that they were looking at each other.

He turned to Sally; "You painted these pictures?"

"Yes, I painted Claudia from life, but she took a photograph of me and I painted myself from that."

There was a long pause before Sally said, "So you see how it was."

"Yes, you were very much in love."

"Yes, but there was a complication."

"Complication?"

"Yes, you see, I discovered I was bi."

"Bi?"

"Bisexual, I wanted Claudia and Michael. Claudia understood that and accepted it. She had no interest in men but we talked about having a threesome; even worked out some of the things we would be able to do just so long as Michael didn't want to penetrate her.

Sally laughed bitterly, and went on, "I was naïve enough to believe that because Claudia could accept my need for Michael, if I put it to him carefully he'd understand my need for Claudia. It was stupid of me, but I suppose you think like that when the emotions are running high."

"And?"

"He was horrified; he said I'd been unfaithful to him, which of course I had, but then he started to call me every foul name he could think of - said he'd never come near me again and the sooner we separated the better."

"So that's why...."

"That isn't all Ethan. He went to Angel and her husband and told them, and every other member of the family and our friends. Angel said she never wanted to see or hear from me again, and of course her prig of a husband had to have his say."

"I seemed to be cut off from everyone except Claudia, and I suppose I had what people used to call a nervous breakdown. Claudia bought this place and we came here to live, and we lived here ever since as lovers."

Sally stopped speaking, and looked at Ethan as if she expected him to say something. When he remained silent she went on, "When she died she..."

"She's dead then?"

"Yes, nearly eighteenth months ago, cancer. The last six months of her life were terrible. She'd been so strong and vital, and to see her fade away...She was very well off and she left everything to me, but I felt so lost and lonely without her."

Again she waited for Ethan to speak; still remained silent.

"Let's go back to the lounge," she said, "you've seen what I needed you to see."

* * * * * * * *

In the lounge they seated themselves in the armchairs and at last Ethan spoke.

"You said that you're bisexual, did you ever want to have a man in your life again?"