A Winters Tale

The Great Snowfall.

In the past, I would never have considered my grandmother as someone with whom I might have sex -- that was until this winter. The summer had been long and hot, with the ground baking hard and the greenery fading to a bland muddy brown colour that gave the landscape a washed-out appearance.

Autumn provided some respite, and sporadic showers reintroduced a smidgeon of greenery but had negligible impact on the devastation of summer. And then suddenly, the temperatures plummeted. As the end of November approached, the first flakes of snow drifted lazily down from the sky.

Within an hour, at least six inches must have been deposited; my mother quickly becoming concerned that, my grandmother, might struggle. I was sent out into the worsening conditions with a bag full of provisions, and instructions to ensure that the old lady stayed indoors and kept warm until the weather turned.

Gran was cheery when I arrived; my mother had already phoned ahead. She had made us both a bowl of hot, steaming soup, and we spent the afternoon and early evening playing dominoes and whist.

By the time I decided to make a move and head for home, the weather outside had changed again. I opened the front door to a blizzard; at least another six to nine inches appeared to have fallen, and the flurries were now so dense, that I could not see more than a couple of feet from the door.

She forbade me from taking even one step outside, immediately phoning my mother to say that I would be staying for the night and not to worry. Inside the house, it was cosy and warm, and I saw the logic of staying where I was, rather than brave the freezing elements outdoors.

We retired at eleven-thirty, and I followed her upstairs, heading for the spare bedroom. She had put out a set of pyjamas, which, from the look of them, I presumed had belonged to my grandfather. Now, I have never been one for sleeping in clothes, so I tossed them into a corner and, after undressing, climbed into bed naked.

It felt strange at first; it must be over twelve years since I had last slept here. I have vague memories of this room when my mother was pregnant. Switching off the bedside lamp, I tiptoed across to the window and opened the curtains wide, watching as the white flakes continued to fall.

I was transfixed for what seemed like aeons until the falling temperature of the room and the goosebumps on my torso, had me quickly scuttling to my bed as I snuggled beneath the blankets

The room was brightly lit when next I opened my eyes, squinting against the glare as bright light streamed in through the still-open curtains. Shivering a little, I threw back the sheets and padded to the window once more. The radiator was slowly beginning to get warm as I pressed against it, gazing out to a world now brilliant white. Opening the window for a second, I glanced down and saw that gran's garden and the rest of the lane had disappeared, the snowy blanket coming halfway up the height of her front door.

After washing and dressing quickly, I descended to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking. Gran was already up and about as she set the table and plonked a hearty breakfast in front of me.

"Well, it doesn't look like you are going home today either, so I thought we would get something hot inside us, and then we need to clear the snow away from the doors and the outside walls. We don't want the house to get cold or for melting snow to come inside."

It took nearly three hours for us to complete the task, continually returning indoors to get warm before resuming the clearance operation. After lunch, she got out some board games, and we spent the afternoon competing against each other.

Even though the circumstances outside had changed, gran still stuck to her normal routine, and at precisely five-thirty, we sat down to our evening meal.

Now, normally at home, I simply have a glass of water with my meal, but Gran has always had wine with hers and insisted that evening on opening a bottle as usual.

I'm not a great wine connoisseur, much preferring a few bottles of beer. As a consequence, I tended to drink it as I would a glass of ale. By the time the meal was over, I could feel my head beginning to spin.

Once everything was cleared away, we tried the television, but the snow had messed up the reception, so we quickly turned it off again. The evening followed the same pattern as the previous one, the only difference being that she opened a second bottle of wine as soon as the first was empty. She had called my mother again earlier to say it was impossible to get out and that I would be staying over once more.

She was told that even if I escaped from her house, I would never reach mine, let alone get inside; it seemed the village as a whole was snowed in.

By the time the second bottle was consumed, we were both well intoxicated; each conversation started well enough but soon went downhill with giggles and fits of laughter. I'm not sure how we got onto the subject, but Gran has always wanted to know the 'ins and outs' of a cat's backside and she eventually decided that my love life would be an excellent topic.

On any other evening, she may have asked if I currently had a girlfriend and what her name was before moving on to other questions. But tonight, after two bottles of wine and the prospect of opening a third, her questions were more rambling.

"Have you currently got a young lady?" she asked.

I shook my head; the last one had disappeared in a fit of pique when I'd stupidly confirmed to her that, "Yes, her backside did look big in those pants."

Gran roared with laughter as I told her.

"So, you're going without at the moment," she slurred, sloshing some more wine into her glass.

"It's the one thing I do miss," she told me. "I need to find myself a man."

In other circumstances, I would probably have been embarrassed at the thought of discussing my love life, especially after the way she had commented.

The alcohol in my system, though, had completely eroded my inhibitions, and the flippant remark was out of my mouth before my brain had a chance to stop it. "Well, if you ever need a bit on the side, Gran, you only need to ask."

The comment didn't seem to faze her as she glanced in my direction for a split second. "Hmm, I may take you up on that," she said, which caused us both to fall about laughing.

The heating had been going all day, and as the evening went on, the temperature of the room combined with the wine I had consumed soon meant that I was feeling flushed. I was about to remove my pullover when she stopped me. It looked as though she was doing some quick calculation before jumping up and staggering into the hallway. She reappeared moments later with a headscarf, which she instructed me to tie around my neck.

I looked at her flummoxed, wondering what the hell she was planning.

"Poker?" she asked. "Or better still, strip poker?" She sniggered mischievously.

"We both have the same number of clothes now."

She had over the years taught me how to play the game for pennies or matchsticks, and I was now quite accomplished; sometimes she won more than I did, and other times I won more of the games.

In my befuddled state, it was as though she had thrown down the gauntlet, and I was determined that I would still be mostly dressed while she would be sitting naked.

As we started to play, it was still nothing more than a competition, one that I was determined to win. She replenished both our glasses, leaving me surprised that I had suddenly developed a taste for wine as I downed a third of the glass in one gulp. I lost the first game, leaving the scarf in place and removing my jumper so that I felt cooler.

I won the next two games and watched as her cardigan vanished over the back of her chair and then as she went to remove one of her stockings. She knew exactly what she was doing, slowly pulling her skirt up to the top of her leg and showing me a vast expanse of thigh. She unfastened the stocking from her suspender belt and provocatively slid it down before tossing it toward me. The next two games went her way; my concentration destroyed as, between my legs, my cock suddenly decided to take an interest.

The scarf and one of my socks disappeared, leaving her still slightly in the lead.

I managed to win the next game, but it was a close thing.

She laughed as she asked, "You're determined to get me naked, aren't you?" Her eyes twinkled as she said it.

I was mesmerised as one by one she unfastened the buttons on her blouse. As I'd already said, it wasn't something that has ever entered my head, but now I was hungrily waiting to catch my first glimpse of her breasts.

The blouse followed the cardigan over the back of her chair while I gazed at her plump mounds rising and falling in the white cups of her bra. The bulge in the front of my trousers must have been obvious; it was so hard; it had become painful. I'm sure she cheated, because the next thing I knew, I was sitting there in just my shorts, the rest of my clothing having been discarded.

She let me win the next game so that she could reach around behind her and unfasten her bra, her breasts falling free as she removed it. Her dark nipples were already erect, and the throbbing between my legs had grown in intensity. And then I was sitting naked, with nowhere to hide, and to be honest, I made no attempt to; the fact that she could not take her eyes off my erect cock was a turn-on in itself.

Gran raised her skirt once more and removed her other stocking before standing and unzipping it. Easing it over her hips, she let it fall to the floor and then removed the suspender belt and her knickers, leaving her facing me naked.

Let's face it, she was no model. She was a largish lady, and there was plenty of meat on her; her tits were huge, as was her belly, and her thighs were more than ample. What I did notice was that her mound and fanny were devoid of hair, just a smooth expanse of flesh with an enticing slit between her legs. At that moment, it would not have mattered what she looked like; my cock was demanding any type of sexual release.

She must have been feeling the same, because she left her chair and moved across to the large couch. Sitting in its centre, she drew her legs upwards and opened her thighs wide, offering me her now open and moist cunt.

Throwing some cushions on the floor, I knelt in front of her, my erection constantly bobbing up and down. She was still staring at it as a few words huskily left her lips.

"Will you fuck me?" she managed, already sounding breathless.

It would have been rude to refuse, and so, nervously and without further ado, I slid my throbbing cock inside her moist quim. There was no finesse to my lovemaking; I simply plunged my shaft in and out of her, all the while listening to her shrieks and grunts which accompanied each thrust. Intoxicated by the wine and her naked flesh, I watched her belly wobble as we shagged, her large breasts seeming to have a life of their own as they bounced in every direction.

Forget what you see in the films; this was simply a wham-bam, thank-you-mam affair. I don't think either of us was interested in foreplay, just in fucking! I lasted long enough to watch her start to orgasm before exploding inside her, emptying my sack as my cock spurted cum deep inside her cunt.

My exertions had sobered me somewhat, more than enough that I now felt slightly embarrassed as my flaccid cock slipped from her opening. She lowered her legs, still panting as she regained her composure.

"Be a dear and go and get me some tissues," I noted some of my cream beginning to seep from her slit as I got to my feet and went into the kitchen, returning with a roll of paper towel.

In my absence, she had taken the cushions from the couch and spread them on the floor in front of the fireplace, and I watched excitedly as she wiped herself, legs akimbo, before indicating them.

"Lie down, Alister, and get yourself comfy." From my prone position, I looked up at my grandmother, her tits hanging down towards her belly and her labia still open and showing me her moist centre.

Spreading my legs, she got down between them and started stroking my shaft. The first stirrings of an erection were already evident. Pulling the skin back from its head, she lowered her face and instantly, I felt her lips and the warmth of her mouth as it enveloped my knob.

It was the best blowjob I've ever experienced; there's a lot to be said, for age I suppose and before long I was standing proud again. Gran raised herself, straddling my hips as she fumbled between her legs and inserted my cock for a second time.

"Nice and slow this time, Alister; I want to watch you fuck me."

Tentatively, she slid up and down my shaft, her huge mammaries swinging in front of my face. Now I have always been a breast man, and the sight of those two large orbs, both tipped by golden brown nipples, soon had my temperature soaring again. Taking my chance, I squeezed, twisted, and pulled at her magnificent mammaries, generally abusing them, as she delighted in the treatment that I meted out to her tits.

She groaned loudly; the language flowing from her lips was not something any grandchild should be subjected to, but I found that it intensified my excitement as she urged me onward.

"Fuck my cunt, that's it. Shag your grandmother, Alister." Her torrent of words spewed forth. "Oh, shit, your cock feels so big. Fuck me harder."

Gripping her meaty arse, I held her aloft and raised my knees, giving me a better purchase. I started ramming my cock into her fanny, her body wobbling above me as she approached her climax. She called my name as I pushed her over the edge and felt her juices flood my groin, especially when I shot my hot cream into her sloppy cunt for a second time.

Eventually, we retired to her bed, spending what was left of the evening and part of the night fucking each other until we both fell asleep through sheer exhaustion.

Truth or Dare.

It was nearly four days before enough snow had been cleared to allow me to make my way home. In the time I had spent at my grandmother's, we had fucked innumerable times every day, as she taught me new ways of satisfying a woman and how to last the course.

I was nearing twenty-one, and with very little sexual technique, I was no better than a virgin. Don't get me wrong; I had put it about, but more or less, it was shoved in, wiggled about, and then pulled out, the act over once I had achieved satisfaction. By the time I left her house, I had learned how to make love properly and felt a lot more confident than I had previously about my performances.

I wondered what Gran had been like as a young woman, wishing I could have met her back then, in her prime. No wonder my grandfather had shuffled off his mortal coil several years earlier; she must have shagged him to death. In her sixties, she still had a healthy appetite for sex, which she displayed each day of my stay.

Even though some paths had been cleared, it still took me three times as long to reach home as my outward journey had done. I was greeted by my mother and twin sisters as a returning hero, all of them making a fuss for no apparent reason that I could see. Mother praised me for being a dutiful son and for looking after her mother in this time of hardship, but little did she realise that the only hardship I had suffered was managing to get it up enough to satisfy my grandmother's insatiable appetite.

To the twins, I was the intrepid explorer. One who had braved the elements and had returned victorious after venturing across to the other side of the village in what was to become known as "The Great Snowfall."

For me, it was a moment that changed my life. I'd had several girlfriends, but none that ever lasted more than a few months. I must admit that I was a bit of a feckless youth. Females were there to be ensnared and conquered, but once I had claimed their treasure trove, I quickly lost interest, looking for new prey.

Gran had been the first female that had ensnared me, and at that moment, I couldn't wait to return and sample her wares once more. Perhaps it was her maturity, her ample bosom and body, or maybe the fact that I was sure she was a nympho.

The other change, which I began to notice slowly over the next few days, concerned my own family, but more on that later.

November turned into December, and the snow did not attempt to disappear anytime soon; small flurries each night tended to replace what the villagers had dug out the previous day. Mother must have had a premonition, as each day she sent us out to the local shops, stockpiling as much food as she could purchase.

As Christmas Eve approached, it was obvious that presents would be in short supply this year, but food-wise, there would be no problem. Unable to get out of the village for her office job, she had used her time wisely.

Now normally, Gran would spend Christmas at our house with mom either driving to pick her up or with her arriving by taxi. Because of the snowfall, no vehicles were moving in the area. except for the snowploughs that kept the main road at the edge of the village clear. Mum's solution that year was to prepare two Christmas dinners, one for us and another for my grandmother, with ample food at both houses.

It was the twenty-third of December, and mom had gone across to grandma's with all the prepared food that was to be deposited in her large chest freezer. Everyone was excited; Christmas day would soon be here, and in the lounge, the tree glittered with baubles and lights while trimmings and streamers ran around the walls.

I had accompanied my mother, carrying the many shopping bags, in the hope of managing to have a word with my grandmother. It had been several days since I'd last had a chance to get across to her house, and I was sure she was missing our sexual exploits as much as I was.

Mom had sent me back for a couple of extra items, and while I was only halfway home, the weather suddenly turned ominous. The sky had become a leaden grey, and the streetlights reflected on the first flakes of snow as they started to fall again.

I got home just in time as the sky opened and snow just seemed to keep coming. I waited for an hour and then two, hoping that the blizzard would pass, but to no avail; it looked like the storm was in for the evening. I called my mother, explaining the situation and asking what she wanted me to do.

To be honest, she didn't seem to be bothered.

"Listen, Alister, the weather may be better tomorrow; if not, then you will have to manage; you are all old enough now. The meal for Christmas day is prepared; all you have to do is pop it in the oven and put the pans on. I'm sure you and the girls can do that. If you have any problems, ring me, but I should be home tomorrow. Take care, and I'll see you later." With that, the phone went dead as she hung up.

I explained to Gemma and Debbie what our mother had said, and just like her, they seemed unperturbed. I would go so far as to say that they were actually looking forward to the experience. Remember, they were with the daring explorer who had done this before, so what could possibly go wrong?

Christmas eve saw no change, and then it was here: Christmas day was upon us, and we would have to fend for ourselves. As it turned out, it was a breeze with the girls knowing exactly what to do, and by midday, the three of us sat down for Christmas lunch. Only later in the day did I look back and see where things had started down a path that I had not reckoned on.

Often, on these special occasions, our mother would allow the girls to have a glass of champagne with their meal and possibly another later in the afternoon. But today there was no parental guidance, no one to forbid it, and so we all went silly.