Grandma, Me, and Sis Makes Three

Part One: How it Got Started

When I arrived home from school I noticed Grandma's car parked in front of the house. She rarely came over unless plans for her to do so had been made, but that's not to say she was unwelcome. I mean, hey, she did have a key to our place, after all, and Mom and Dad never minded her popping in whenever she saw fit to do so. I headed straight for the kitchen as I knew that was more than likely where she would be, and sure enough she was rummaging through the pots and pans. "Hi, Grandma," I called out to her as I lay my bookbag on the table.

She lifted her head, smiled, then said, "Do you know where your mother keeps her Dutch oven?"

I thought for a moment, then went to the pantry, and sure enough there it was, on the bottom shelf. I pulled it out as I told Grandma I had found it, then set it on the table next to my bookbag. Grandma stood, made to dust herself off even though she wasn't soiled in the slightest, then approached me. She pinched my cheeks as she placed a brief grandmotherly kiss of greeting on my lips and said, "Whatever would I do without you?"

"Lucky for you, you'll never have to find out," I said. "You're going to live forever."

Grandma burst into loud, boisterous laughter as she tousled my hair. "I'm glad at least one of us thinks so."

"Oh, you just have to," I said with a mock plea. "I wouldn't know what to do if you left me."

She smiled a genuine smile of love at me, then pulled my head to her bosom and hugged me. Yes, it was literally at her bosom. You see, Grandma stood six-foot-two as opposed to my five-ten, so my head and face always ended up pressed firmly against her cleavage. It was warm, soft yet firm, and even though I thought nothing of it in my youth, once puberty kicked in it really began to hold a different sensation for me. I never said anything about that, even after all these years, but I kind of thought she knew.

"So, how was school today?" she asked as she released me.

"Okay for the most part, Grandma. Today in Psych we discussed—Oh! Never mind."

"What?" she asked.

"It's nothing," I said.

"Well, it sure as hell doesn't sound like 'nothing.' What are you keeping from me?"

I sighed. "It was about sex."

"Mmmmm-Hmmmm," she said as she eyed me, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "When you first learned about the birds and the bees, was it your parents or your friends you went to?"

"I went to you, Grandma," I answered.

"Oh, that's right. How could have I forgotten?" she asked mockingly. "And when you were first ready to have sex, was it your friends or your parents you confided in?"

I sighed resignedly. Once again, I answered, "It was you, Grandma."

"So, what makes you think I can't handle what your teacher discusses in your class?" she asked.

"Because, it's ... It was weird enough talking about it in class. It made me think ... No, I really don't want to discuss this with you, Grandma, so can you please just respect that?"

She looked at me and smiled that same genuinely loving smile at me. "Lance, we don't have to discuss a thing. Let your mother know I came and got the Dutch Oven."

"Let me carry—"

"I can manage just fine, dear. Have a nice night," and with that, she was gone.

I felt bad about shutting her down like I did. Grandma meant the world to me. I decided I'd call her later and apologize.

When Mom got home from work she called upstairs to me. I came out of my room to meet her at the stairs. "Your father should be here in about ten minutes, then we're heading over to your grandmother's for dinner."

"We're eating with Grandma tonight?" I asked, surprised as shit. Why didn't she tell me?

"She did come by and get the Dutch oven, didn't she?" Mom asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Stewed ribs," Mom said with a smile as she turned and made her way to her room. I watched her go. She may have been Grandma's daughter, but the Amazon gene seemed to have skipped her. Me, too. Not my sister Suzanne, though. She was Grandma up and down.

Dad arrived, freshened up, then we all piled into the Cherokee and made our way to Grandma's house. What can I say? The food was delicious. The ribs swam in a thick gravy with huge chunks of onion and peppers, all of which found their way onto my mashed potatoes, and the broccoli was steamed perfectly. I shouldn't have done it, simply because I wasn't hungry, but I had second helpings of everything just because it tasted so damned good. Mom took a picture of it and sent it to Suzanne, who was away at Wellesley. She immediately responded that Grandma would have to make that plus all her favorites upon her return.

In an effort to seek forgiveness, I offered to wash dishes and clean the kitchen. Grandma tried to fight me on this, but I fought harder and insisted. She finally acquiesced. Thirty minutes later she entered the kitchen and saw me preparing to mop. "Sakes alive, Lance. Mopping also?"

"I'm just trying to make sure everything is clean, Grandma."

She disappeared, then five minutes later reappeared and said, "Your folks have gone home. Don't worry, I told them I'd take you when you were done."

"I'm just finishing up now," I told her. "I'll be along directly."

I entered the living room approximately five minutes later to find Grandma enjoying a Jack Daniels on the rocks. "Want one?" she asked, knowing I still had better than half a year before I was legally able to do so. She knew I drank outside Mom and Dad's house, and she and I had even talked over a drink here and there in the past, so her offering me one wasn't out of the ordinary.

"Uh ... "Sure," I answered. She fixed me a glass that was about three-fourths full and passed it to me. "Thanks, Grandma." Before she sat, I downed it and asked for another. She smiled and obliged me, telling me to sip this one, but I gulped it, too.

"Land sakes, boy. What's gotten into you?" she asked me.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Grandma. I didn't mean to shut you out like I did. It's just ..."

"Lance, whatever it is, if it's this difficult to discuss then you don't have to."

I took a deep breath, then said, "My Psyche instructor made an off-hand remark about younger people thinking sex ends after fifty. He went on to say that many people in their seventies, eighties, and even their nineties still crave and enjoy sex. I made the comment, 'So what you're saying is that for the enterprising young lad, working in a senior facility is the way to go.' Of course, you can imagine the entire class saying 'Ewwww' to that, but Mr. Groves told the class that I was correct, and he even brought up the gaining popularity of GILF porn to substantiate this."

"GILF porn?" Grandma asked. "What is that, Lance?"

"It's sex between young men and older women," I told her.

"So, why is it called 'GILF?'" I burst into laughter. "It there something funny about it?"

"No, ma'am. You see, there are two different classifications: MILFs and GILFs. MILF stands for Mothers I'd Like to ... You know."

"No, I don't."

"You're really going to make me say it, Grandma?"

"How else can I understand it if I don't know exactly what it means, Lance?"

I chuckled, then said, "It means 'fuck,' Grandma. Mothers I'd Like to Fuck. Then there's GILFs, which is Grandmothers I'd Like to Fuck."

"Oh," she responded. There was some surprise in her voice, but not much. After about twenty seconds worth of silence, she asked, "So, have you ever watched any of this GILF porn?"

I couldn't find voice to answer. I couldn't even look her in the eye. I just now noticed how much I had been staring at her huge breasts the entirety of this conversation, so to keep from calling any further attention to myself, I kept my head bowed as I slightly nodded my head.

"And when you watch it, what does it do for you?" she asked.

"This is why I didn't want to talk about it, Grandma. The whole thing makes me uncomfortable."

"But maybe talking about it will help to alleviate your feelings of discomfort," she suggested.

I stood and fixed myself another drink, gulping it down as I had done the previous two. I fixed another and returned with it to my seat. I took a sip, then said, "I've watched it."

"Is there a particular type?" Grandma asked me.

A part of me wanted to cry. I felt like I had been given truth serum and I was being interrogated by the enemy and I was powerless to lie. "I look at the red-headed grannies," I told her as I set my gaze on her face, then the long, curly red locks surrounding it. "I watch the young guys my age with the red-headed grannies your age and I ... then I ..."

"Do you masturbate to these videos, Lance?"

"I'm sorry, Grandma."

"Do you think of me when you masturbate?"

"I just ..." I didn't know how to finish the sentence. I shrugged my shoulders as I shook my head.

Grandma eyed me for all of a minute, then she excused herself. I don't know how long I sat there alone in the living room. I don't know how long she was gone. I heard her almost silent footsteps behind me, then she was standing in front of me in all her nude majesty. Her hair was wet and tiny beads of water reflected off her body. Apparently she had been gone long enough to get a shower. What hair wasn't plastered to her face clung to her breasts, tiny rivulets of water flowing from it onto her rose-colored nipples, the coolness of the air conditioner hardening them. Her belly was flat, and there was a thick mound of red pubic hair between her legs. At this moment, I could not imagine a more beautiful woman on earth. "G-Grandma?"

"Is this what you want, Lance? Would you like to make love with me?" That's exactly what I wanted. Why couldn't I acknowledge as much, then? "Your psychology instructor was correct, Lance. Our libidos do not wane. Sometimes we just have to relegate ourselves to the fact that sex just won't happen for us anymore, but deep down, every woman my age wishes for a young lover your age, someone who can please her as deeply as she desires." She held out a hand to me. "Will you join me in my bedroom, Lance?"

I took it and stood, then allowed her to lead me to her bed. She undressed me, and when she saw I was completely manscaped, she said, "I shave my labia. Perhaps I should shave everything."

"No, Grandma. That's part of your appeal."

She smiled at me, then helped me lay down. "Can you make love to me, Lance?"

"I want to, Grandma. So desperately."

"You just lay back and relax. There's no need to rush anything." My cock was at half-mast. She took it in her mouth and began sucking it ever so slowly. She sucked it like she had been in love with it her entire life. I had never known a blow job like this. It was wonderful. She brought me to complete hardness, and my girth was stretching her mouth. Still, she was resolute in taking all seven and a half inches of me to the hilt.

"Oh, Grandma. It feels so good."

"Mmmmm-hmmm," she answered without stopping.

My breathing intensified. "Oh, god. You're going to make me cum."

"Mmmmm-hmmm!"

"Oh, shit!" I yelled as I filled her mouth with my cum.

Never once did she stop her slow, laborious pace. I did feel a slight pause, then she came off me and said, "Ah ..." before taking me back in her mouth. She swallowed it. I was going to say something, but in the end I decided not to make a big fuss over it. Grandma finally raised up, then she bent toward me and asked, "How was that?"

"It was the single most incredible experience I have ever had, Grandma, and I mean that. Now why don't you lay back and allow me to return the favor?" With a smile on her face, she did. Before I got started, however, I asked, "Would it be inappropriate for me to kiss you ... You know, not as my grandma, but as a woman?"

"Lance, I was hoping you would want to," she replied. She wrapped her arms around my neck and drew me to her. Our lips met. It was tentative at first, simply because we both were a bit nervous, but soon that nervousness gave way and our lips were softly grinding on each other's just as our tongues danced in one another's mouths like dueling ballerinas. It was a tender moment, and as much as I wanted it to last, I wanted to taste her thick, rosy nipples even more.

I kissed Grandma down her chin, down her neck, and down her voluptuous breasts until I reached my goal. Her nipples were so hard, as were her areola. I sucked them a good five minutes each. I wanted to do more, but her pussy was waiting on me, and I couldn't neglect it any longer.

I kissed my way down her flat belly to the forest of red pubic hair and I felt my cock harden as I nuzzled my way through it. It smelled like strawberries. Fitting, I thought. I finally came out and onto her smooth labia and allowed my tongue to search out her clit. It was not gargantuan in size, as her Amazonian stature might suggest. In fact, it was no bigger than the head of a straight pin, but it was sensitive nonetheless, and once I began diddling it with my tongue she went into a fit of ecstasy. I probed her for perhaps three minutes before she came, and her body was even more alive and receptive to my touch than I had originally believed it would be. I lapped up her juices, then asked, "Would you like another, Grandma?"

"No," she answered breathily, and I must admit that I was disappointed, for I had wanted to spend a good amount of time down there. Still, when she continued, my spirits lifted. "The time will come when I'll let you do that from sun-up to sundown, but right now I just need to feel your stiff, young cock between my legs."

"Yes, ma'am," I said with a smile on my face as I moved upward. She cocked her legs wide. I lined myself up with her, then I eased myself into her. Our twin moans filled the silent space of the room. I can't say her pussy was tight by any means, but it was so wet and so soft, and I could imagine all that red hair encircling my dick. It turned me on to no end.

"That's right," Grandma said as she once again entwined her arms around my neck and drew me close. We kissed as I slowly went in and out of her. "Yes, Lance. Make love to me. Just like that. Oh, Lance. Oh, Lance ..." and she had an orgasm. She kissed me again. "It feels so good, Lance. Your cock feels so good inside me." We began kissing again, softly, sweetly, and after another few minutes, "Oh, Lance!" and she came again. I was really proud of myself for being able to get Grandma off like I was.

We made love for perhaps fifteen minutes, then I felt that old, familiar feeling begin to encroach on me. "Do I need to pull out when I cum, Grandma?"

"No, Lance. That would spoil everything," she answered.

Another thirty seconds, then, "Oh, Grandma! Here it comes!"

"Yes!" Grandma shouted. Her legs opened wider as she lifted them off the bed. I felt myself slide in deeper inside her as I began pumping my semen into her. Her arms once again moved around my neck as her legs entwined themselves around my own. She held me there as my cock spasmed its last, and then thereafter. We kissed, not moving from our embrace.

I pulled back and said, "I love you, Grandma."

"I love you, Lance." She looked me in the eyes.

"What?"

"Would you like this to be a regular thing between us?" she asked. "Would you like us to make love on a regular basis?"

"How regular?" I asked. The gleam in her eyes seemed to falter a bit when I asked that, so I had to fix that immediately. "What I mean by that, Grandma, is I'll be over here every day unless you set some parameters."

She smiled. "Let's start with every day and see where that leads us."

I wasn't seeing anyone seriously at the moment, so it would suit me just fine. "Give me an hour to recharge and I'll be ready to go again."

"You've already had two orgasms tonight, Lance."

"And for you I'll have two more," I told her. I kissed her. "Do you know what I have done my entire sexual life, Grandma? I have fucked. Right now, what we just did? I have never so beautifully made love with a woman as I did with you."

"Oh, Lance." She placed a palm against my cheek. "It was beautiful, and you gave me many wonderful orgasms." I grabbed her hand and placed it between my legs. "Oooh! Already hard again?" She guided me inside her, and I made love to her just as I had originally done.

Part Two: Welcome to the Party, Suzanne

It was my twenty-first birthday and we were at home celebrating. Mom and Dad made a big to-do over it, having invited all the family and even all my friends. Suzanne was home from school as my birthday fell on December seventeenth, so Fall Semester was over, and she would be here until Spring Semester started up. Amidst all the chaos, Grandma pulled me to the side and told me she wanted to give me one of my presents downstairs in Dad's man cave. Her wicked smile told me I shouldn't refuse it, so I followed her.

I found myself leaning against the pool table as Grandma knelt before me. Her blouse was unbuttoned, her bra was raised up, and my cock was snuggled nicely between her huge breasts. She moved them up and down as she sucked the head of my cock. Oh, what a glorious feeling. I never tired of being with her.

It had been seven months since we had begun our illicit affair, and neither of us had regretted a moment of it. We had been true to our word, seeing each other every day. In the beginning, it was all about sex. As time went by, though, we settled into a nice, romantic relationship. This entailed going out to eat, shopping together, working in her garden, fixing things around the house ... It was more about just spending time together. Yes, sex was still there, at least once a day, but the romance was above it. Even still, we both greatly looked forward to the sex.

We tried different things, like doggie style, which she did not like, her on her side and me behind her, which she seemed to enjoy, and she on top, which she also enjoyed, but in the end, her main preference was always missionary, and that was fine with me.

"Oh, Grandma, don't stop," I whispered as she continued to titty fuck my cock. Her breasts were so warm and soft. I wanted this feeling to last forever, but, "Oh, shit! Here it comes!"

"Yes!" Grandma said just before once again wrapping her lips around the head. She sucked it gently as I spasmed wildly, containing great cries of pleasure as I did so.

"Oh, fuck!" I whispered. "You get better every time you do that." Then, a noise. Something had fallen. A quick look in the direction of the noise showed that it was Dad's aluminum St. Pauli's Girl sign, and next to it stood Suzanne, whose expression was that of a deer in headlights. Grandma and I stared back, probably with the same looks upon our faces as well. I started to say something, "Um ..."

... but Suzanne cut me off. "I was sent to tell you they're ready to cut the cake now," and with that, she was off.

"Oh, shit," I said as I helped Grandma up. "We're fucked."

"Maybe not," she said as she fixed her bra and buttoned her blouse. "Let me talk to her."

Grandma detoured to the kitchen to allow me to enter the backyard first, then she followed behind about thirty seconds later so as not to seem too conspicuous. Mom and Dad called me up, and as I looked upon the sea of people before me, I locked eyes with Suzanne, who had a look of displeasure on her face. I saw Grandma approach her from behind. Suzanne made to walk off, but Grandma grabbed her by the arm, whispered in her ear, then Suzanne's features softened. I saw her nod, then a small smile came to her lips. It was only then that I realized that everyone was singing "Happy Birthday To You," so I smiled as pictures were taken, and when applause began to ring out, I cut a huge piece of cake and mushed it in my mouth, which brought a nice round of laughter as well as admonishment from Mom.