Another Old Fellah Needs a Hand

This is a further sequel to 'The Old Fellah Needs a Hand'.

***

I was working through some difficult (for me anyway) homework at my bedroom desk when my mother's voice carried from the front door of our apartment.

"We're back!" Mum called out, "Your Nana and Grandpa have come in for a cup of tea. Come out and say hello."

"In a minute! Busy!"

I didn't mean to be so stereotypically petulant but I guess my teenage brain is just allergic to being told what to do by a parent. I stared at the incomprehensible symbols in my textbook and wondered what on Earth it could all mean. My bedroom door was pushed open.

"I said 'in a minute'!" I snapped, automatically.

"Hello angel," my Grandfather's voice was always jolly but husky through many decades of smoking a pipe.

I grinned, jumped up out of my chair and hugged him. I realised how much I'd grown since I'd last seen him, even though it was only about half a year. He cuddled me and asked how I was but I just snuggled into his neck and smelled his lovely familiar fragrance of pipe tobacco, dark rum and a cologne I don't think they make anymore; I imagined that he must have bottles of the stuff squirrelled away somewhere.

"Working hard are you?"

"Nahh, I don't really get it anyway. I'm definitely not the brains of this family."

"well, nevermind, you have a lot of other things going for you."

"Pfeeeesh! Like what exactly?"

"A beautiful woman like you? You'll do fine. Anyway, you're not such a dim bulb."

He wandered around my room, I watched him looking at my niknaks and posters.

"You and Nana alright?"

"Sure. No change. We're hanging on in there."

He looked a little uneasy, like he had something on his mind.

"I like seeing all your goings-on on the Facebook thing," he said, "All the photos of your parties and nights out with your girl friends."

"Aw, you don't wanna be looking at that embarrassing stuff."

"What's not to like? Charmingly drunk young women in exceedingly tight, short dresses!"

I blushed, "I always look like a complete pig in those shots."

"You always look delectable. Certainly the most captivating one out of your crowd."

"You have to say that, you're my grandfather."

"Nah, not just me, everyone thinks so."

'Who's everyone?' I asked myself.

"In fact, there is something you could help me with, on my phone, if you don't mind?"

"Ooookay," I rolled my eyes, there was always some modern device the old fogies needed help with, "What's gone wrong this time?"

I held out my palm. He took out his smartphone and began pressing and swiping the screen.

"It's just that my friend shared some photos he took, but I ran out of whatsit space so I couldn't see them all."

"Ran out of-"

My words dried to dust in my mouth as he handed me his phone. On the screen, in hyperpixel definition was a miniature digital me, reclined on a bed with my legs spread wide and my fingers buried in my dirty-looking snatch, seen quite clearly through my dark brown pantyhose. I flopped down on my chair, the wind taken out of me. I dropped the phone on my desk and stared at it. Grandpa leaned over and swiped through some more naked, sordid shots until he reached a close-up of my pouty lips about to suck on my elderly neighbour's cockhead.

"That one's my favourite, I think." he said, "Your lips look soooo inviting."

I sat looking at nothing, my world having just caved in. I'd experienced similar emotions at school when I was younger and was being berated (unjustly, of course) for some hideous crime. I felt I couldn't breathe. My eyes were hot with the wash of soon-to-come tears. I thought I was in serious trouble. Next to me was the sound of a zip and some shuffling. I smelled... something... I looked up and realised I was in a completely different kind of trouble.

"Look what you do to me, angel," he said.

My grandfather's pinky-red prick extended out from the fly of his trousers. I couldn't raise my eyes from his cock. It was thick, not overly long and it curved down but held itself proudly perpendicular (hey, I remembered something from geometry class). The hot secret scent of him was driving me crazy. The red head was swelling and peeking out from his foreskin which was gently rolling back as he grew and grew and grew. The increasing smell of hot masculine sex filled my senses. Acting purely on instinct, I moved my face forward and kissed the weeping slit at the tip. I felt my grandfather shudder next to me. My eyes darted up to his face and he was beaming down at me.

"You're my dream girl, honey, you know that don't you?"

I turned in my chair to face him. I slowly raised my hand and held his fine, handsome cock. Without hesitation, I eased my mouth on to the head.

"Ohhh, good girl," he groaned.

My head began to move as I sucked all his flavours, feeling his hard helmet moving in my wet mouth. He started to move his hips. His hand rested on my head, holding me in place.

"I've been dreaming of you using your pretty little mouth on me."

He started to screw my slurping mouth. I pressed my lips tightly around his shaft. He moaned in appreciation of my efforts.

"Did he teach you how to do this?"

He was talking about my neighbour, the sexy old guy I teasingly called Gramps, the pervy pensioner who had shared my secret photos with him. I looked up at him, my eyes wide with wonder at my situation, and I nodded.

We went quiet, silent almost, except for the sloshing of my mouth and his deep grunts of pleasure. My heart was beating hard and fast. He was sliding his dick further in my mouth, fucking my face. I felt so sexy to be wanted so, to be thoroughly used like a sexy, filthy slut. I wanted to strip my clothes off and have my grandfather ravish me. I was just considering this when the trusty old creaky floorboards of the hallway freaked me out. I pulled away and darted over to the other side of my bedroom just as my mother walked in.

Grandpa had sat down on my chair and was holding my schoolwork over his lap. I pretended to be fiddling with my stereo and wiped my drooling lips with the back of my hand.

"I wondered what was keeping you? Tea's getting cold," Mum said, walking into my room like she owned the place, which she did, technically.

"This is beyond me," Grandpa said, perusing my worksheets, "The stuff they get these kids to do these days, it's like rocket science. None of it useful! I bet these teachers wouldn't know a slide rule if you smacked 'em round the back of the head with it."

I wondered at his poise and easy deceitfulness, the old rogue. My heart was still banging like a techno track. Mum leaned on my chair and looked down at the papers hiding his naked cock. I watched them both out of the corner of my eye.

"Mm, I bet it is hard, yes. It's a different world now, Dad," she said, "Well, I'll let you chat."

She walked out. I breathed again, realising I'd been holding my breath the entire time she was here. My grandfather closed my bedroom door and stood behind me. Close.

"Just say the word," his voice was low and dark, "Just say 'stop' or 'no' or 'don't' and I'll leave you alone. We'll pretend this never happened and never mention it again."

I stood looking blankly at my window, my mind racing. I should say no. I should tell him to stop and leave me alone. I felt his soft lips on the back of my neck, his moustache bristles tickled my skin. It turned my legs to jelly.

"Angel?" he said.

I turned to face him, my hand reached down and my fingers encircled his softening prick. I kissed him. He gasped and I pushed my tongue inside his mouth. We pressed our lips together and my hand worked on his cock as it grew again into a full, thick, heavy, stiff rod. His hands reached behind me and pushed up under my skirt to grope my buttocks and thighs. I took a breath and looked at him.

"How long have you felt this way?" I asked.

"I always thought you were pretty, naturally but, I came to your eighteenth birthday party. I wasn't there long, the music was too loud and horrible for me. I watched you dancing. I sort of... fell for you, saw you for the woman you've become. A dazzling, carnal creature of desire."

"That's very poetic," I joked.

"You bring out the old romantic in me. You are not unlike Clara was at your age, you know?"

"Nana?"

"Yes, although you are more stylish. The eyebrows, the hair, the clothes. Simpler yet so much more seductive."

His fingers molested my arse in such a fun and dirty way, I could tell he was enjoying it immensely.

"She had this, too. What you've got here. These days, I suppose you'd call it a bubble-butt?"

My hand was constantly flowing up and down his fully erect penis, my dirty old neighbour had taught me a bundle of wanking techniques, I showed my grandfather that I knew what I was doing.

"Mmm, that feels so good," he growled as his strong hands mashed my asscheeks.

"You like my bum, don't you?"

"Oh, girl, you don't know the half of it. I tried many times to get your Nana to let me in there..."

I just couldn't picture my polite, delicate grandmother having anal sex.

"Not Nana!"

"Clara was never really into sexual intercourse. Of any kind, let alone kinky stuff.""

"Mum has five brothers and three sisters!"

"And beyond procreation, which she saw as her matrimonial duty, and beyond the odd special occasion, she hated me going anywhere near her. And then the menopause put paid to any action what-so-ever."

"No sucking? Or licking or touching you like this?"

I squeezed his dick in consolation and kissed him.

"I regret to say I never once tasted her pussy."

My own pussy immediately gushed and twinged at the thought of him sliding his tongue over my hot clit. I couldn't believe how fucking horny this was making me. After a second or two, my jumbled squalid thoughts calmed down enough to speak.

"But you were together since school, weren't you?"

"Uh huh."

"So you've never... had anal?"

"You say it so easily," he chuckled, "But sure, I have. I'd go into the city and pay for it."

"Grandpa!"

"Ah, it's just what young men did back then. Prostitution was rife. You didn't have affairs, that would be more... dishonourable. A man paid a whore to do all the things his prudish wife wouldn't do."

I contemplated his unusual history lesson as my hand plunged up and down his sexy old meat. It seemed perfectly normal when he released my bottom and navigated his hands up under my jumper and into my bra cups to stroke my breasts and toy with my bullet-hard nips.

I breathed harder as he touched me and wanked him even faster.

"Fuuuckk, don't stop that," he closed his eyes and basked in the intense pleasure I was obviously giving him, "That's perfect. You've definitely got the touch."

"Thank you, Grandpa. I've never heard you swear before."

"Do you have to call me that? It makes it seem..."

"Wrong?"

"Quite, quite wrong."

"I like it, Grandfather. I like how it feels so naughty. Do you really want me to stop reminding you that you're my Grandpa?"

"You call me whatever you want, angel."

After a a few minutes he said, "Actually, I've recently been thinking about visiting a prostitute again."

"Why?"

"A certain young lady has been hard to get off my mind," he kissed me, "Making me have many, many filthy ideas that I need to act upon or I'll go bonkers. When our mutual friend sent me those photos you took-"

"I'm a bit upset about that. He tricked me."

"Just a harmless trick. Between friends."

I harumphed, unimpressed.

"Since I saw you and him together... my cravings have become quite unmanageable."

"Well," I kissed his neck, "You won't have to go into the city any more, Grandpa."

"Why's that?"

I whispered in his ear, "I'll be your whore."

"Mmmm, say that again."

I kissed his lips after each phrase, "I will be... your whore... all those dirty things... you want to do... you can do to me."

"Even here?" he slid one hand around my waist, down to my bum and one of his fingers poked my underwear into my clenched butthole.

"I've never done that, Grandpa, but I'll try it, for you."

"Frank said," Frank was the real name of the old fellah in the nearby flat who I'd been fooling around with, "When you made love, you called out 'Grandpa' and this confirmed for us what he'd suspected. I just can't work out why you'd be interested in a pair of wrinkly geezers like us."

"I can't explain it," I licked the sweat off his neck, "But I've been dreaming about you too."

"And what do I do in your dreams?"

I looked him in the eyes, holding his gaze, I wanted to leave him in no doubt.

"You fuck me so hard," I gulped.

"You're going to make me shoot."

"Mmmmm," I smiled dreamily.

"No, really, I'm about to shoot! Do you have a tissue or something?"

My mind was a blank. I looked around my bedroom that was bereft of sperm-absorbing tissues, my hand still flashed relentlessly up and down his throbbing, twitching cock.

"Now, girl!" he said, panting.

I leaned back against my window sill, I opened my legs and lifted up the hem of my skirt. I brought his cock closer to me and I rubbed his frothy head on my pale blue cotton panties that ware darkened at my soaked slit. He exploded. I felt the pressure of his ejaculations of goo hitting my underwear, sticking to me like glue.

He gasped and puffed as he looked down to watch himself pollute his granddaughter's knickers.

"Fucking hell, baby."

It felt so naughty. That I could be surprising this expert pervert gave me a sense of pride in my quick-thinking nastiness. A few final spurts of creamy sperm glooped over my panties then he took his cock out of my fingers and cleaned himself up and down my thighs.

We were both sweating. His wiped his brow with a cotton handkerchief and then wiped mine too. He stood back and wrestled his thick bouncing dick back inside his trousers and adjusted his clothing.

I slowly, carefully, peeled down my spunk sodden knickers. I stepped out of them and he bent down, with an old man's laboured grunt, to grab them off the floor.

"Theeese are mine now," he said as he folded them up and pushed them into the pocket of his cardigan, "A little keepsake of this magic moment."

I was dazed.

My mother's voice was heard from down the hall, "Come on you two! Whatcha doing in there!?"

"You'd better go, I... I couldn't face them. Either of them. Not now."

"I'll make your excuses," he said.

"I feel guilty."

"I know, I know. But they'll never find out. It's our own delightful, secret thing. Completely harmless."

He kissed me.

"I want you," I said, "Properly, like in my dreams."

"We'll go to Frank's. I'll arrange it with him."

I pulled a distasteful face.

"Where else can we go? I want to take my time with you. I want to eat you up."

"Like the big bad wolf?"

"Exactly. Like the big..." his hand was between my thighs, "Baaaaad..." his fingers touched my soaked pussy and my entire body tensed and shook, "Wolf."

A last gentle touch of my ultra-sensitive clit and he was gone.

I crossed the room, locked my door and laid down on my bed. I spread my legs and let my mind wander to my darkest places as I fingered myself. I smelled the hand I'd used to masturbate him as I thought about my upcoming date with my handsome, sexy, virile grandpa.