Grandma's Big Tits

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She knows he's been checking out her breasts...
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I saw one of those captioned photos on Tumblr that showed a very attractive mature lady with what was supposedly her grandson's cock between her breasts -- and *ping!*, a story idea.

It's a short stroke story of around 5000 words, and there's a reason for the brevity that I won't bore you with here, but there was a word-cap on the piece so it is what it is. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Colin has been having fantasies about his grandmother's impressive breasts for some time. He fights against his feelings but...

Well, read on and see.

Feedback is always good.

GA -- Benissa, Spain -- 31st December 2013.

COLIN GRANT drove through the streets of the town with a weight on his mind. He was worried about the things going around and around in his head. It was getting so bad he was losing sleep, but Colin couldn't stop himself from doing it. He knew, even as he drove to her house, after all the soul-searching and agonising Colin knew that when he got there it would all start up again. He didn't want to feel the way he did, it wasn't as though he chose to. But he knew with a deep, foreboding certainty that as soon as he saw his grandmother again, if she was wearing one of her sweaters, his head would be filled with the imaginings.

Colin turned into the driveway of her bungalow. He parked up, turning the key so the engine cut out. He sat there for several seconds with his heart already thumping away, his breath tight in his chest. He groaned in despair, gulping when, of its own accord, his cock swelled in his jeans.

"Shit," the young man muttered, appalled at his body's response, cursing the arousal.

Then, with a sigh, Colin opened the door and climbed out of the car. He used the door as a shield as he arranged his erection into a more comfortable and, he fervently hoped, less noticeable position.

The front door of the bungalow opened as his foot hit the first step; she must have been watching for his arrival to have the door open so fast.

There she was, right there waiting for him.

And Jesus Christ didn't her big tits look fantastic in that grey cardigan! It hardly stretched to encompass his grandmother's breasts, the top three buttons undone, and Colin tried his hardest to look his grandmother in the face as she smiled at him, her pretty face dimpling at the cheeks.

"Hello, Colin," his grandmother said, blue eyes sparkling as she spread her arms for a hug.

Then he was inside that embrace, the heat of her all along his front, the scent of her in his nostrils as her breasts squashed up against his chest.

Colin wondered if his grandmother could feel the ridge of his hard-on as she hugged him close, and part of him, in some deep and murky corner of his mind wanted her to feel his arousal. Colin wanted her to know she turned him on. He felt the urge to tell her he thought about her sucking his cock and that he masturbated while holding the fantasy in his head. The desire to just blurt it out was close to overwhelming. Of course it would be a crazy thing to do, the consequences would be catastrophic -- But oh, how cathartic it would be to simply tell her.

The hug ended and his grandmother eased away from him as she invited him inside, and, in the instant before she turned to go back indoors Colin glanced down at the deep, precipitous cleavage, the enticing crease between her breasts squeezed together in her bra, the flesh bubbling over the cups and almost spilling out of the cardigan.

"Yuh-your hair looks nice," Colin croaked for want of something to say. He was flustered and said the first thing that came into his head.

"It's good of you to notice," his grandmother said, throwing a glance over her shoulder. "Shut the door, Colin," she added. "And come into the kitchen, I've got a cold beer in the fridge for you."

He did as he was bid and pushed the door closed behind him as he stared at his grandmother's swaying hips. A strange feeling rippled through him, and it was more than the carnal urges he'd struggled with in the weeks recently gone by. Colin sensed there was some detail he had missed, something unnoticed because of his distraction, his absorption with his own internal wrangling. Then it came to him, as his grandmother hip-swayed away he saw she was wearing shoes with a high heel to them, and her skirt was just a touch too short for modesty's requirements. When he got to the kitchen and found his grandmother standing at the fridge, a bottle in her hand, her head tilted towards one shoulder while she appraised him with that big-eyed blue stare, Colin also noticed the light pink shade of her lipstick.

He gulped as an image of him kissing that lipstick away popped into his head. Colin's penis pulsed when an even lewder picture arrived unbidden, his head conjuring a scene in which he watched his grandmother's lips close around the head of his penis.

"Are you all right, Colin?" his grandmother asked. "You look a little ... odd, darling. Would you like a beer?"

Colin stood in the doorway, the hall behind him, his grandmother's eyes still questioning as she stood next to the fridge. "I'm okay, Gran," he managed to mumble. Then he nodded and said, "Thanks, a beer would be good."

"It's nice of you to come over, Colin," the woman said as she busied herself with rummaging for a bottle opener in a drawer. Cutlery rattled with metallic chaos until she eventually found the church-key and popped the top off the bottle. "It's time I sorted out your granddad's stuff. The charity shop will be happy with some of it. Some of the clothes are excellent quality; they'll fetch a good price."

Colin took the bottle and swigged from it, gulping several mouthfuls. "Thanks, Gran," he said, saluting with the raised bottle.

"You sit down at the table, darling," his grandmother said, pulling a ladder-backed chair across the lino before gesturing for him to sit. "I'll just make a start on the stuff in my bedroom. I found a few boxes in the shed. You drink your beer and then take a rummage through them. It should take me an hour or so to get all your granddad's things sorted in the wardrobe and drawers in my room. If you're still out in the shed by then come in and we'll have a break." She eyed her grandson and added, "How does that sound, Colin?"

Colin nodded and approved the plan and, with a final glance at him his grandmother left him sitting there at the table sipping beer.

Colin forced himself to calm down, willing his erection to subside until his thoughts drifted to the question of his grandmother's appearance: the recently coloured hair, almost white-blonde; the coral-pink shade of her lipstick; the short, tight skirt and the high heels.

It seemed to Colin that his grandmother was poised on the brink of getting out and about again. It had been thirteen months since her husband had passed, but it now appeared that she was making an attempt to move on. His grandmother had always gone for the busty look, the tight sweaters or a cardigan with the buttons unfastened were nothing new. Colin knew his grandmother had always flaunted her breasts, but the other stuff puzzled him. Then it came to him and a sudden pain spiked in his chest. A surge of some dark emotion swelled inside Colin, a cuprous essence of corrosive jealousy flooded into him when he realised that his grandmother might be prettifying herself for a potential future lover.

That would explain the skirt and the hair and the lipstick.

"Shit," Colin muttered as he stood up, gulping down the remainder of the beer before plonking the bottle on the table. He left the kitchen, moving towards the back door and the garden beyond. Colin closed the door and negotiated the two stone steps to the path. From there he walked past the tree and the swing he'd once used as a child, skirting the ornamental bushes, following the cracked and weedy flagstones to the wooden shed.

The door creaked on its hinges before Colin stepped inside, the old table and its stack of cardboard boxes in the centre of the space.

He stepped in and went to the table, opening the flap of the box closest to the door. And there, stacked inside, two thick piles of them, at least a hundred volumes, the glossy cover of the uppermost on each pile showing a lewd scene, was the largest concentration of dirty magazines Colin had ever seen.

Colin gasped and lifted a magazine from the box, recognising from the cover that it was an edition of some Danish pornography from the previous century. Colin leafed through the pages, shocked by the scenes featuring naked girls with outdated hairstyles and thick pelts of fur between their legs. His libido, already revving, cranked up through several gears, and before he even realised it he was working a fist over his erection, jeans round his shins.

It was the creak of the old hinges that caused the panic to swell in his chest, and Colin turned, hoping the wind had blown the door open.

But, of course, it was inevitable, Colin knew it would be her standing there, but even so, as he moved to the sound, his brain still refused to believe that he had literally been caught with his pants down.

"I don't think the charity shop would appreciate your grandfather's collection," Colin's grandmother said. She nudged a chin at the boxes. "You sort through them. See if there's any you might want to keep."

And then, while Colin stood there, his hands shielding his genitalia, his grandmother turned on one spiked heel and left him alone with his mortification.

It took him ten minutes to gather the courage to leave the shed. He couldn't leave it like it was, he decided, and as painful and embarrassing as the confrontation might be Colin knew had to clear the air with his grandmother. If he left, if he just snuck away down the path at the side of the bungalow and got into his car he knew he was only postponing the inevitable. There was no way he could avoid his grandmother forever. At some point he would have to face her. So, his guts churning with apprehension, Colin slunk into the kitchen. He had expected to find his grandmother there waiting for him, sitting at the table, arms folded, expression grim. probably smoking an illicit cigarette.

But, instead, he found the kitchen empty.

Colin blinked and breathed a sigh of relief before mustering his courage and moving along the hall. He went to her bedroom, reasoning she must have returned to continue sorting through his grandfather's belongings.

Without knowing what he was going to say, and with anxiety gripping him, his face burning with shame, Colin pushed open the door, stopping dead, his mouth falling open, shock slapping into him with almost physical force.

A wave of amazed bewilderment washed over Colin, a hot-water breaker of surprise.

"Oh, there you are," Colin's grandmother said from her bed. "I've been waiting for you."

"Uh ... Oh ... I..." Colin managed to croak. "Oh ... Oh, Gran," he gasped, boggling at the sight of her with her skirt bunched up around her hips, legs wide, the hot, scarlet slash of her pussy exposed to his stare. Colin gulped and continued to gaze in awe at his grandmother's breasts hanging cantilevered over her bra, the cardigan stretched beneath those weighty orbs.

*

FOR EMILY Barker it was a moment she had planned for. Of course, there was no way of knowing how her grandson would react, but Emily had surprise on her side. She'd known for weeks that Colin had developed a little crush on her. She had noticed the surreptitious glances at her bosom and had divined her Grandson's burgeoning desire.

At first Emily had been stunned by his attention, shocked that her grandson could look at her with male interest. But then, recognising Colin's strong physical resemblance to her deceased husband, with her grandson even displaying some of the same mannerisms in their daughter's son, Emily had slowly developed a lewd fantasy of her own. Like Coin she had fought against incestuous desires. Emily had been appalled at her own shocking thoughts but had eventually submitted and masturbated with her favourite dildo, the large rubber cock being her sole companion since her husband's passing, a toy she had used in front of him on many occasions during their marriage, and which she then used to satisfy the sudden hunger between her legs. That fantasy had grown into a glimmer of a plan, an illicit plot that, when she sat and thought about what it was she was contemplating made Emily blush and push the imaginings from her mind.

But the lure was insidious, its approach clandestine, and it was in the night, her in the big bed with a latex cock for company that Emily had found herself making going over tactics in her mind. She used the dildo on herself and hatched a scheme for her own grandson's seduction.

And, one day, when she could deny herself no longer, Emily Barker acted.

She had her hair coloured, her nails done and put on a too-short and too-tight skirt. Emily deliberately planted her husband's stock of pornographic magazines in the shed, put on the lipstick and buttoned the cardigan up to the underside of her breasts.

Then, when Colin arrived, with her heart thumping and apprehension curdling in her stomach, Emily had guided Colin towards the stash of magazines. She had followed him to the shed and spied through a gap in the boards and, when he'd dropped his jeans and started working at his erection Emily had made her appearance. She'd arrived, said what she said and then left, leaving Colin with the impression he'd been caught in the act.

As Emily hoped Colin had come looking for her, which is why she was lying on her bed in a lewd arrangement of ruched clothing and shivering flesh, languidly fingering her sodden vulva. Emily rested on one elbow, her breasts the lure, her sex exposed as added incentive. She knew her grandson desired her, but also intuited he would balk if he had the chance to think about what he was doing, and so Emily used shock tactics to stun him before instructing him to come to her bed.

"Oh, there you are," she breathed when he eventually appeared. "I've been waiting for you."

She saw the shock on his face, his jaw dropping.

"Uh ... Oh ... I..." Emily heard him croak. "Oh ... Oh, Gran."

"Come to me, Colin," Emily said, her tone curt. "Don't stand there staring. I know you've been looking at my breasts. And now I want you got over here and stopped mucking about."

Colin stood there, too stunned to move.

"Colin," his grandmother barked, her breasts swaying as she hefted herself upright. "This is what you want, isn't it, all of this?"

Colin nodded, his tongue moving over dry lips, eyes glazed as he stared at his beautiful grandmother. "Yes," he croaked. "Oh ... Gran..."

"Come on, darling," Emily crooned, her tone softening. She smiled and gestured with one arm. "I want it too, Colin. It's all right. I know it's a shock to see me like this. But I know you've been looking at me. I know what you've been thinking. And I want to tell you it's okay, it's between us, Colin. You and me. Nobody else will know. No one else needs to know."

Emily hefted her breasts in the palms of her hands, the tips of her forefingers sliding over the engorged teats in their saucer-sized areolae.

Colin blinked and gasped and pawed at himself through his jeans when he saw his grandmother teasing her own flesh.

"Come on, Colin," Emily coaxed. "Come to me. Touch me, darling. I'm here for you. I promise I won't get angry or tell you to stop." She lifted her breasts again, an offering to her grandson. "You want these big tits, don't you, Colin?" Then she chuckled, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled a sly smile. "I know how much men love my breasts, Colin; they've been ogling my boobs for years, decades, darling. I've seen men staring at my breasts since long before you were born. Your grandfather loved them," she added. "I used to use my breasts around his cock, Colin. He used to love covering them with spunk."

"Gran..." Colin gurgled, his eyes wide, shocked to the soles of his training shoes by the profanity. "Shit ... You can't ... You shouldn't tell me things like that."

"Look at them, Colin. Look at my breasts." Emily's voice cracked as her ardour flared. Revealing those lewd intimacies and using the language she had sent Emily beyond the median of decency. If she had been worked up for her grandson's incestuous loving before, she was really chocking for it by then. "I want you to look at them," she whined, the itch between her legs making her squirm. "I want you to wank your cock again, Colin. I want to see you do it like you did in the shed. Please, come here. Come to me and wank your lovely cock."

Emily climbed off the bed and went to her grandson, stopping in front of him to pose with the skirt around her waist, her breasts jutting in front of her while he boggled at her body.

"Kiss me, Colin," Emily Barker sighed, moving closer as her grandson's hands went up to squeeze her breasts.

"That's it, darling," said Emily in the moment before she slid her tongue into her grandson's mouth. "Feel grandma's big tits."

*

SHE STOOD there and looked at him, a forefinger up by her chin as she nodded with approval. Colin was naked, his cock stiff despite his anxiety. What prompted Colin's tumescence was the fact that his grandmother had slipped the bunched skirt down over her hips, letting it fall at her feet before she peeled the cardigan away from her torso.

Colin stared back at his grandmother, stunned by her depilated pudenda. He'd imagined his grandmother to be sporting a full pubic bush like the models in the magazines, but there she was with her vulva all smooth, except for a tiny triangular tuft at the top of her slit.

"Are you as nervous as I am, Colin?" Emily Barker murmured.

Colin nodded and looked into his grandmother's face. "Yes," he replied, gulping. "Gran," Colin then added, "you're really beautiful."

Emily smiled and walked towards him. She was still in her shoes, the heels giving her the height to be able to look her grandson in the eye, her face level with his. "Thank you, darling," she murmured. "It's lovely to hear you say that." Emily nodded and let her eyes move over her grandson's chest, her hands coming up to the plated pectorals. "You're a gorgeous young man, Colin. It's been a very long time since I've touched a body so tight and firm. I love your muscles, baby."

Colin's fingers stroked his grandmother's breasts, his palms sliding over their flanks and down over Emily's waist to her hips. He pulled her close, those tits squashing against his chest.

"You're amazing, Gran," the young man sighed. "I can't believe we're together like this." Then Colin's face clouded, his brow furrowing while his expression turned troubled. "But we shouldn't be naked with each other should we, Gran? Not really. This is wrong, isn't it?"

Emily gave a sigh and studied Colin's face. She grasped his cock and began to work her fist up and down the length of it. "It's only wrong if anyone finds out, Colin," she murmured. "And how can anyone find out about us if we don't say anything?"

Colin moaned and closed his eyes at his grandmother's touch. "That's so nice," he mumbled.

"We can do this, Colin," Emily said. "I want to do it," she added. "I'm lonely and I need a man in my bed, Colin. I'm only fifty-seven, darling. I still have urges and desires. Your granddad and I were very active before he got ill. He was so much older than me, Colin. When we first met I was only eighteen; he was nearly thirty and so much more experienced than me. I miss what I had with him. And you..." Emily's voice caught with emotion as she stared into her grandson's face. "You look like him. I can see him in you, Colin, and I want you to do the things he used to do."

"But you're my grandmother," Colin said, persisting in his negative line. "We can't..."

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