A Nip in the Christmas Air

Brendan Albertson was in the absolute last place he wanted to be on Christmas Eve: At his grandmother's house with family.

Relatives milled about, portly old aunts always pinching the 19-year-old's cheeks, droning on about what a handsome young man he was turning into, not seeming to notice his forced I-couldn't-possibly-give-less-of-a-shit smile on his face, spilling food onto his lap as they leaned over him with full plates in their fat hands. And inevitably it would be followed by his well-intended mother worrying over him, hoping he was having a good time at a party she'd forced him to go to.

This wasn't the party he wanted to be at. There were others, there was always a party going on elsewhere at Christmas, lots of them, one in particular Brendan was dying to get to. At Maria Chavez's house, a gorgeous little Latino girl in his freshmen English class at the local college. For a whole semester, he'd been eyeballing the slightly chubby, dark-skinned hottie, taking exceptional notice of her gigantic tits. The fuckers were huge and fleshy, large on their own but seemingly more so because of the few extra pounds the pretty girl carried.

Her nipples in particular drove him nuts; he loved tits in general, but nips in particular. Maria's were thick, pronounced, clearly on display in the usual tight shirts she wore to class. She had nipples that were always erect, always driving Brendan mad. She'd flirted with him, he'd flirted with her, and when she invited him to her house on Christmas Eve -- when her parents would be elsewhere at their own boring holiday party -- his cock fairly exploded in his pants dreaming of the possibilities of getting Maria's tits all to himself.

He looked at his watch. It was 8:30. He hoped his parents would get bored and release him from this hell on earth and go home, freeing him to go to Maria's, where he knew the party would burn late into the night and he could hopefully feast on the succulent little bitch's fat nippies at least until her parents came back.

So he made the best of it, which included spiking his own punch glass as often as he could get away with it. Fuck the minimum drinking age, he needed a buzz to get through this boring family blather-fest. He was well into his fourth of fifth cup, feeling the welcoming, warm numbness spread through his body, when his grandmother, Katie, approached and sat down beside him, patting his knee.

He looked at her and smiled. She could read him. She could always read him. And by the look on her pretty face, he knew what she was thinking.

"Boring as hell, isn't it?" she laughed, looking around the room, making Brendan giggle. "Christ, if I were your age, anywhere else would be better than here."

"God, Grandma, you're right," he sighed. "But hopefully I can escape soon..."

"And go where?" she asked.

"Oh, I have options," he laughed. "One in particular."

"Ohhh, a special girl, right?" Katie smiled.

"Yeah, pretty special," Brendan said, thinking of Maria's tits and nipples and then realizing with horrid clarity he was staring right into his grandmother's wrinkly cleavage when he thought it.

And worse yet, it made his dick twitch to life.

'What the fuck'? his thoughts continued, looking away nervously, slugging down the rest of his spiked punch.

Grandma Katie was a beautiful woman. She was 67, tall and lean, keeping herself in great shape. She didn't look her age, certainly didn't act it, and therein was part of her beauty, at least in Brendan's mind. But now, as he looked anywhere but at his grandmother's ample bosom, revealed to a disturbing degree in her low-cut, clingy red party dress, his mind couldn't help but envisioning burying his face in it.

"She must be special, because YOU are!" Grandma Katie gushed, suddenly wrapping her arms around her startled grandson, pulling his face into her chest and holding him tight.

It was dark in there. That was Brendan's first thought, wishing he had some light to feast his eyes upon the soft meat pressed against his face.

He had a raging hard on. That was his second thought, and an appalling one at that.

"Uh...thanks, Grandma, thanks," he warbled weakly, pulling his face slightly away from her chest, enough light filtering in to allow him to see every delicious wrinkle, every tiny freckle, every dark shadow between her huge tits leading to an ancient promised land.

But she wouldn't let go. Her arms held him tight, she was cooing happily, hugging him. He inhaled. She wore the same old-lady perfume she always wore, one he'd always smelled on her, but now the aroma was consuming him, his mind equating the smell with the throbbing boner in his pants. His mind raced, projecting, thinking whenever he smelled it again, his dick would spring to life.

'Goddammit'! he thought, inhaling deeply, relishing the scent, fighting the urge to thrust his face into that welcoming cleavage and clamp his eager lips around her nipples.

Her nipples. Now that's all he could think of. Her nipples. His grandmother's nipples. He imagined the meat of her big titties as smooth, white with little blue veins beneath, and her nipples thick and wrinkled and large and brown. He managed to pull his face away just enough to cast his eyes down over the smooth red fabric of her tight dress hugging her big boobs.

There they were. Had they been there before? The fucking things were huge, her nipples, clearly pushing through her bra and dress. The bra would have to be pretty sheer, he thought. Women must wear sheer bras with dresses like this, right? He wondered what color it was, did it match her dress? Did it have to? Was that a rule of women's wear, the bra matches the dress or not?

His mind was mush, gone as soft as his dick was hard.

He was fantasizing, out of control.

"Do you want them, Brendan?" he imagined her saying, rocking him in her arms. "Do you want to suck my nipples, Brendan? Is that what you want? To suck my nipples, your grandma's nipples?"

"Oh, God, Grandma yes!" he blurted. And not in his imagination. Out loud.

He felt her tense up.

"What?" she asked, pulling his face away from her chest, holding his shoulders and looking into his eyes. "Yes what?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," he mumbled, casting his eyes down, away from hers -- right down at those amazingly huge fucking nipples. "I...uh...just..."

She saw it. She saw the look, the stare, and felt his nervous tremble through his shoulders into her hands. She smiled, reaching for his chin, tilting it up to look at her. She sat, bathed in a soft multi-colored glow of the nearby, over-decorated Christmas three, her silky silver hair brushing her shoulders, radiant, brilliant.

"It's OK," she said softly, gently returning his face to her chest, pressing it against the soft skin, the aroma overcoming him again. "I understand...boys will be boys..."

'What the fuck does she mean'! he thought, aghast at the prospect of his doting grandmother's acceptance of his ogling her unbelievable old tits and firm nipples.

Grandma Kate was a progressive, liberal woman, always had been. She was a hippie in her day, according to family lore, once living in a commune, freely having sex with various men, and according to deeper family lore, or perhaps rumors spread by his goofy cousins, with women as well. Brendan's mind raced with possibilities, including the most outlandish one that his grandmother would let him have at those tits now pressed warmly into his astonished face.

"You...understand...what, Grandma?" he squeaked awkwardly from his boob prison as her arms cinched tighter around his head.

"Boys will be boys," she sighed, kissing the top of his head. "Your friend...your special friend that you hope to see later, she has...she is endowed is she?"

This could not be happening. His grandmother, sexy as she was, could not be talking about Maria's tits and huge nipples and how he was planning to make a meal of them later. This could not be happening.

But it was.

"Boys have always been fascinated by boobs, Brendan, and I'm flattered that you find mine so attractive!" she said brightly, her words aimed at him only, as muted conversation from the party filtered around them, people oblivious to the innocent sight of a grandmother hugging her grandson. "You do, don't you? I'm not mistaken, am I?"

She pulled his face away again, framing it in her bony comforting hands, smiling. He could only stare, wide eyed, open mouthed -- and slowly nod his head. Her smiled widened.

"Well now, I do hope you get lucky with your special friend later," she giggled, making him stifle a laugh over the phrase 'get lucky'. "But just in case you don't...well, let's take the edge off, make this party a little more fun for you!"

She stood, holding out her hand. He took it, gulping, and started to stand -- and stopping when he remembered that throbbing hard on in his pants. He sat back down.

"Oh, right, right," Grandma Kate laughed. "Well, that's another reason...we can't very well have you walking about with that now, can we?"

She looked right into his crotch as he sat, covering it with his hands. She extended one of hers again.

"C'mon, Brendan, no one will notice, they're too damned busy being too damned boring!"

This time he obeyed, standing, holding her hand and following her through a throng of family in the kitchen. He watched her walk; her sexy, form-fitting dress was spectacular, hugging and accentuating her unbelievable ass. How could he not have noticed that before as well? And her legs, long, sleek, muscular, encased in sheer red nylons, calves noticeably flexing as she walked in her high-heeled red shoes.

She was fucking gorgeous, Brendan realized. Pushing 70 and all, his grandmother was fucking gorgeous. He knew that could be the nipple lover in him doing his thinking, but no, she was fucking gorgeous.

It seemed to take forever to walk down a long hall to a seldom-used extra bedroom, one he'd sleep in when family would stay over. It took seconds, five or six in all actuality, but for every split one of them Brendan's mind raced with wonder over what awaited him.

She walked them into the room, shutting and locking the door behind them. Still holding his hand, she walked them to the double bed, snapping on a nightstand light. She sat, he stood, looking down into that cleavage, moaning at the sight of that soft, delicately wrinkled flesh, and the huge nipples poking through her dress front.

She smiled at him, saying nothing, eyes locked on his as he watched her pull one shoulder of her dress down, then the other, curling the top over her boobs. There they were -- barely held in the satiny white bra. She then slipped one shoulder strap of the bra down, and the other and then there they really were.

They were nothing short of magnificent.

He groaned just watching her sit, back straight, hands on her knees, hunched slightly at the shoulders, her boobs hanging free. Her pretty face wrinkles looked softer in the dim lighting, as did the thickish turkey wattle of her neck below her smile. Her arms, her upper arms, were sagging a bit, fleshy, freckled. But his eyes took all that in tangentially. His eyes were more laser focused on those delicious tits.

And those nipples. The areola of which, to his amazement and delight were not thick, wrinkled and brown. They were pink, soft pink, almost flesh colored, almost blending seamlessly into the creamy white meat around them. And in the middle, the firmest, longest and most alluring nipples he had ever seen on a woman, young or old, real or in the many porno clips he'd watch online.

His grandmother's nipples were perfect, sublime. They were long, a quarter inch or so, poking out proudly from the pink circles around them, with tiny nubs permeating their perfection, like tiny meaty tips of little fingers.

She delighted in his hypnotic, open-mouthed stare. She toyed with him now, holding them in her long fingers, fingernails painted bright holiday red. She massaged them, causing Brendan's eyes to bulge wider still, giggling at his response as she kneaded those orbs of fleshy white meat, Brendan watching the skin wrinkle and crease and ooze between her squeezing fingers.

"You like?" she cooed, now cupping each one, holding them up in her hands.

He nodded furiously.

She looked at him and then lifted one tit, the right one, to her mouth. She tucked her chin down, creasing her wattle into a bouquet of exquisite wrinkles, looking at him, extending her tongue and flickering it over that nipple. Brenda nearly came watching it, watching her look at him, watching that delicious little nipple nubbin bounce back and forth under its owner's lightly lapping tongue.

"You like this?" she whispered in a near hiss.

He nodded even more furiously as now she twisted the thick meaty tit higher wrapping her lips around that slick pink nipple and sucked it. His grandmother was sucking her own nipple. And staring right at him.

"Oh my GOD!" Brendan cried out, hitting his knees before her, anxiously waiting his turn.

It came. And he nearly did, the second she held that wet tit in one hand, encircled his head with the other, and slowly drew his mouth to it.

He closed his eyes, the world, the rest of the world blocked out. The world that existed now consisted solely of the two of them as he closed his trembling lips around her pink nipple and suckled like a baby at his mother's breast.

"That's it...that's my boy...that's right, suck Grandma's titty!" she cooed, laughing, tilting her head back and letting go of her tit, freeing it for his hands.

He grabbed them both, embracing them in his trembling fingers, squeezing, kneading, massaging, reveling in the softness of them. His mouth suckled one nipple, then the other, the journey between them marked by his tongue dragging wetly over the freckled flesh, diving into the cleavage, relishing the salty flavor, the scented warmth. Back and forth he went, madly ingest his grandmother's tits, feasting on one nipple, then the other, dribbling them in his lips, lavishing them with his tongue.

And pressing his hard cock into her knees as he knelt before him.

"Well now, we should take care of that before you have an accident!" she laughed. "Can't have you walking back out with a huge stain now can we!"

She stood up, tits jiggling before Brendan's adoring eyes, switching places. She sat him on the bed and kneeling. He could only watched, transfixed, as she unbuckled his pants, unzipped his fly and pulled off his pants and underwear with one easy tug, tossing them aside. As his cock bobbed freely in the cool air of the room, tip thick and anxious and oozing precum, he prayed he wouldn't spray without even being touched.

"Very nice, very nice!" Grandma Katie gushed enthusiastically, eyeing his decently sized cock, licking her lips and parting his legs to kneel closer.

She touched it and a pronounced shiver coursed through Brendan's rigid body, his face curled into a frown, willing the impending orgasm away, or at least prolonging it. She encircled the base of his cock in one hand, cupping his balls in the other. She smiled, licked her lips and then popped them gently over the wet tip.

"HOLY FUCK!" he screamed, arching his back, anxious to plunge into his grandmother's throat.

"Now, now, all good things come to good boys who wait!" she said in sing-song voice, laughing as she pulled her mouth off his dick, slapping it playfully against the sexy pucker of her cheek, leaving a lurid smear of pre-cum on it.

She put him back inside her mouth. And slowly, very slowly, excruciatingly, mind-blowingly slowly, took him balls deep in one maddeningly lingering stroke.

He felt it, the unmistakable initiation of orgasm, his balls knotting in her hand. She drew just enough of her mouth off his cock to grip the base and squeeze, staunching the impending explosion. He groaned in frustration, watching her mouth slowly slide up and off his cock, leaving it glistening with her saliva.

"I think that's wet enough, but just in case..." she said, reaching for a small bottle of baby oil on the nightstand.

She abandoned his cock now, squirting some oil into her hands, rubbing them together. Her thick upper arms jiggled as she did and Brendan thought he never saw arms so sexy in his life. She pushed her hands onto those hanging tits, smearing the lubricant over every delicious inch, particularly between them. Brendan watched her hands work into the quaking jiggle of her tits, every part of them quivering as she coated them with oil. She took his hands, squirting oil into them, smiling at him and holding her hands apart, looking at her gleaming boobs.

"Do the honor as well, would you, Brendan?"

He leaned forward, groaning, cupping the slick meat of his grandmother's ample tits in his hands, coating them, rubbing them, twisting his fingers around the pink nipples, making her groan. He was so caught up in his task at literal hand, he almost didn't notice her slicking up his cock, stroking it slowly in her oily fingers, lubricating him.

"Now lay back, watch and enjoy," she cooed.

He'd never titty fucked a girl before, though it had long been a fantasy, one he hoped to realize tonight with the luscious Maria, a girl now a million miles from his thoughts. He watched, completely captivated, as his beautiful silver-haired grandmother leaned forward, cupped her tits together and draped them over his cock, spearing them with his greased cock.

"Oh...my... GOD GRANDMA!" he squealed.

She laughed, holding her tits tightly around his dick, working them up and down, the silky, oily insides hot and moist, fucking him. He half sat up watching, his grandmother's hands around the front of her giant tits, nipples scissored in her fingers as she lifted and dropped her tits up and down with increasing rapidity. The flesh of the bottoms of them slapped noisily as they made contact with the balls below, almost making them ache.

"You like that, honey, fucking your granny's titties like this?" she said, playfully tucking her chin down, snaking out her tongue to lick the tip of his cock as it flashed in and out of her boobs.

"Grandma...I'm gonna...oh shit...." he groaned.

"That's the idea, Brendan," she smiled. "Now cum for me, baby...cum for -- and in -- Grandma's titties!"

He had no choice. Watching those impossibly sexy, huge tits engulf his cock, every inch alive and jiggling and quivering around it, quickly put him over the edge. She felt his first shot jet from his cock head and rope up over her laughing face, a thick stripe of white from her forehead, down her nose to her chin. She cupped her tits harder around him, completely engulfing them in her quaking tit meat, and the second and third shots erupted from the titty clamp, blasting into her wattle, soaking the flesh, filling every sexy fold and wrinkle and crease as she tilted her head back, laughing, enjoying the heat of his load.

She kept the dance up, working her tits up and down harder and faster, folding the flesh over his cock, feeling the remaining shots of boy cum coat the insides. Finally, in what seemed like forever to them both, she slowed her strokes, leaning into him, slowly working his sensitive cock against her breast plate, tickling him in a delicious post-orgasmic torture that left them both giggling and staring into each other's happy eyes.

She let her hands fall from her tits, the flesh parting, exposing the blanket of cum lathered over both. She ran a finger up her cleavage and playfully sucked it into her mouth, groaning with pleasure at the taste and texture. She smiled, leaning forward to frame his head in her hands, and kissed him. Her lips were coated with his cum strand and he didn't mind in the least as he tasted himself on her mouth, her tongue darting inside.

Pulling away, she stood, holding her hands apart in a 'ta-da!' motion. Brendan laughed, an easy, satisfied laugh, looking at her cum-soaked tits and face. He impulsively jumped to his feet, hugging her, burying his face in her sopping tits, lapping at the cream blanketing them.