Grandma's Big Mouth

Kenny Shea loved his grandmother dearly, which is why he often rode his bike across town to do chores and things the widowed senior citizen could no longer handle easily. That was how he ended up painting her garage during the recess between semesters at college, and while it wasn't really something Kenny was particularly good at or enjoyed doing, he did it for Grandma.

One thing that annoyed Kenny about his grandmother, perhaps the only thing, was the fact that she tended to blurt out things without thinking, and that was something Kenny and the rest of the family noticed Grandma Sophie doing more often as she aged.

Usually it was just something inappropriate or goofy, things that could be laughed off or dismissed with a shake of the head, but every once in a while Sophie would cross the line, and that was what occurred on the day Kenny came over to paint.

As Kenny himself recalls...

***

"I should have my head examined," I muttered to no one as I climbed up the ladder with the can of paint and then set it on the shelf of the shaky ladder, a device that was probably as old as my grandmother.

The only saving grace was that it wasn't all that high a climb to reach most of the structure, because I was none too fond of heights.

I started early in hopes of getting it done in one day, and if I could beat the afternoon heat that would also be good so I worked diligently, so much so that the sound of a woman's voice below startled me.

"Oh, hello Mrs. Roarke," I said as I looked down at my grandmother's next door neighbor who had apparently been on her way to visit her, a lady I had been introduced to recently and who had befriended my grandmother.

"Sophie doesn't know how lucky she is, having a grandson like you to do these things for her. I'd like to borrow you myself some day because I hate to paint."

At the time I was thinking something like me not really wanting to be doing this even for my own grandmother let alone every widow on the block, but when I looked down at the woman the interruption became a lot more tolerable.

"Grandma keeps me busy enough most times," I offered as the woman looked up at me, her arm raised to shield her eyes from the sun, an action that made her look very interesting to me.

"So I've noticed Kenny," the lady chuckled, and I set the brush down to lean my elbow on the top step, wanting to keep the lady chatting for as long as I could.

By the time Mrs. Roarke finally excused herself, I was in the process of working up a sweat and it wasn't just from the heat either. Mrs. Roarke had caused that perspiration along with the uncomfortable crowding that was going on in my underwear.

I decided to take a break at that point, needing to relieve myself as well as rearranging things down there, so I slipped in the house while Grandma had the TV blasting, locked the bathroom down behind me and dropped my shirts and briefs.

"I definitely need a girlfriend," I muttered while trying to get my semi-erect dick to point into the bowl, because it was a little weird to be getting aroused by a woman three times my age at least.

Mrs. Roarke was old I supposed, but not as old as my 70 year old grandmother, and however old she was, I had observed she was still good looking. Perhaps the lady was carrying a couple extra pounds but she was solidly built, as her nicely toned arms and legs attested to.

I had seen the woman a couple times before, but not like this. Mrs. Roarke was dressed for the warm weather with shorts and a sleeveless blouse, and the fact that today the woman was not wearing a bra was obvious since her full breasts had settled down near her waist.

The sight of her nipples against the fabric of her blouse was nice, but what had gotten and kept my attention was under her nicely toned upraised arm, a rich spray of dark brown hair that contrasted greatly with the silver on her head. That wasn't something you saw very often those days to my dismay, because I guess I have a thing for it, and my grandmother's neighbor being a little up in years had no effect on me.

After I got done peeing I washed my hands and tried to get past my grandmother and back outside, but she had abandoned the Jerry Springer show to get another cup of tea and caught me passing through.

I managed to deflect the offer of lunch, saying no to a "nice sandwich", a "nice salad" or a "nice bowl of soup", but instead got myself a drink of water and prepared to go back to painting.

"Your neighbor wants me to do some painting for her," I mentioned casually on my way outside. "This could be the start of a lucrative business for me."

"Oh, that Ruthie!" Grandma exclaimed, inadvertently answering the question about her first name.

"I think she was just kidding," I told my grandmother.

"Well don't you think you need to do anything for her on my account," Grandma said.

"I know, but I feel bad for folks on their own" I replied. "She's a widow too, isn't she?"

"Yes, but still - she's only 59 so she can do things herself," Grandma noted. "I shouldn't say that because I could probably paint that garage of mine myself but..."

"Nonsense."

"Of course, all Ruth would have to do is wink and fellas would be running there with paint brushes," Grandma informed me. "And I think she does her share of winking too."

"Is that right? Well, she is a good looking lady," I said.

"Half the time she doesn't wear a brassiere," Grandma mentioned. "This from a woman almost 60 and with a bosom the size she has? Ruth thinks she's still a hippie."

"I didn't notice that," I lied, and then made the mistake of saying, "I did notice the hair under her arms though."

"How could you miss it?" Grandma noted with a shake of the head. "What kind of a lady lets the world see something like that?"

"Hey, I think it's kind of sexy on some women," I said before going back outside.

The painting seemed to be taking forever, and the way the thirsty wood was lapping up the paint made me think that I would have to put another coat on the garage, not something I was looking forward too.

Mrs. Roarke came out of her back door and headed to Grandma's rear entrance, giving me a wave that was much too brief, and after I finished the side of the garage I was working on I decided to go inside for another drink.

Okay, I wasn't so much thirsty as feeling the need to socialize with my grandmother's friend while checking her out some more, but when I entered the kitchen and saw Ruth and my grandmother sitting at the table, I had a bad feeling. It was a feeling that told me that I had interrupted a conversation in which I was the subject.

Mrs. Roarke's facial expression was only a little telling, with the hint of amusement in the corners of her mouth, but my grandmother was clearly ready to spill the beans.

"You know Kenny, don't you Ruth?" Grandma began, and without waiting for a reply she went off on one of her tangents. "Kenny here is a big fan of yours. Thinks you're sexy. That's what he told me before."

"Grandma?" I whined, trying in vain to cut her off.

"Kenny likes the girls with hairy armpits," Grandma rambled while I withered in place. "When he mentioned that he thought it was sexy it struck me - he had a girlfriend last year who didn't shave under her arms either. What was her name honey?"

"Grandma please?" I almost cried.

"Tabby or Tammy or something. Whatever it was. Anyway, that girl used to drive Kenny's mother crazy, remember honey?" Grandma pressed. "My daughter used to say to me, what is my baby doing with her? Kenny could do much better than that bohemian. You know who I'm talking about, don't you Kenny?"

"I'm almost out of paint," I said as I turned to leave. "I'll get more and finish tomorrow."

"Don't be mad honey. I'm just having fun with you," Grandma said as I left, adding accurately to her friend, "He's mad at me."

"Well, you embarrassed him Sophie," I heard Ruth say as I went down the steps of the porch.

I put the stuff away in record time and got on my bike, pedaling away as I heard Grandma at the screen door apologizing and adding that she would be working at the used book store in the town library tomorrow.

"Good," I grumbled, because I wanted to strangle her at that point and the odds were good that I would still be pissed tomorrow.

***

I was still in a pissed off state of mind the next day as I went over to my grandmother's house with a gallon of paint dangling on my handlebars, making the ride a shaky one and making me wish I drove over. Unlike yesterday the sun was not out, making the prospect of painting a little better along with my Grandma not being around, although the threatening skies suggested rain might be on the way.

I set the ladder up and prepared to get to work but the sound of a screen door creaking got my attention. It was Mrs. Roarke, looking as good as she did yesterday, and when I saw her heading my way I could tell my the swaying under her blouse that she was unsupported underneath the canary yellow sleeveless top again, which I heartily approved of.

"Hi Kenny," Mrs. Roarke said as she came over towards me. "You just missed Sophie. She took off for the library."

"Oh well. That's life," I said without a trace of regret, something that the smile on the lady's face suggested she caught on to what I was thinking.

"I was just heading down to the Y to work out," Mrs. Roarke told me, and that explained her well toned limbs, but without the sun to get in her eyes her arms stayed down. "The weather channel radar shows that we're going to get a shower soon. Just passing through though."

"I suspected as much but I was still hoping to get this done."

"Such an ambitious young fellow," Mrs. Roarke said. before making a face, and when I felt a drop hit my shoulder I realized that the shower was coming sooner rather than later. "Oh-oh."

"Guess I'll wait this out," I said, explaining that I knew where Grandma hid her key so I could go in.

"Why wait alone?" Mrs. Roarke suggested. "Come over and keep me company."

"I thought you were going to the gym?" I asked.

"Changed my mind," Mrs. Roarke said while motioning for me to follow her next door as the sprinkling got steady. "I'll make us a pitcher of ice tea and we can watch the rain fall from the porch."

Turning from me, I looked at the back of the lady's blouse, where a big bow apparently held the wrap-around top together, and I fantasized about that knot coming loose and exposing those breasts that looked even better today.

As I watched Mrs. Roarke's nicely plump bottom wiggle away I only hesitated for a second before hurrying up to catch her, because hanging out with my grandmother's next door neighbor was a lot better than sitting in Grandma's living room watching basic cable. Who knows, I wondered, maybe the knot would undo itself.

***

While I was often thought of as being really intelligent back in my teens, I didn't agree with that assessment although I never did much to dispute it. Things that I should have been able to figure out quickly eluded me for whatever reason.

On this day however, I had been over at Mrs. Roarke's patio for about twenty minutes before I caught on to something that was in retrospect fairly obvious. My grandmother's friend and neighbor was trying to seduce me.

Mrs. Roarke, or Ruth as she reminded me more than once, had made a pitcher of ice tea and brought it out to her sheltered patio so we could indeed watch the drizzle fall while enjoying the warmth of the day.

The rain didn't interest me nearly as much as Ruth, and my eyes were focused across the table at my host who did her best to keep the conversation going while I took the time to inspect the lady up close, and that wasn't easy because my gaze kept drifting downward.

There were little signs of Mrs. Roarke's age; tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and a few spider veins on her thighs, but the rest of her was more than fine. I loved her short cropped silver hair and the way her dark brown eyebrows contrasted with it, and her smile seemed genuine with teeth that I wished mine equaled in brightness and all.

Then there was the rest of Ruth, and I guess the saving grace was that the table blocked much of the view of her breasts because I was getting infatuated with them, and her arms were amazing as well. I got around to mentioning her nicely toned arms, with none of the sag that older women get sometimes, and biceps that almost seemed the result of lifting weights.

"I feel guilty keeping you from going to work out," I mentioned, and after she said she wasn't in the mood anyway I added, "You should drag my Grandma down there. She could use the exercise."

"I've taken her a few times, but she isn't really interested."

"Well, it's obvious that it really works for you, because I couldn't believe it when she told me you were 59."

"Why, did you think I was 70?" she cackled before thanking me for the compliment, and when I mentioned the bit about her arms being so toned and all she winked and made a muscle for my benefit.

"Maybe we could arm-wrestle?" she joked as I tried not to stare too long at her bicep - not bulging exactly but certainly well defined - and then at the soft-looking tuft of dark brown hair that filled the muscled pocket under her arm.

"No wonder Sophie is so crazy about you," Ruth offered. "So polite, so sweet, and the way your face turns such a deep pink when you get embarrassed or flustered like you are now is delightful."

"Sorry," I mumbled when I realized she knew what I was looking at.

"Like yesterday too," she continued. "I know you were embarrassed and all but..."

"My grandmother - sometimes she just blurts stuff out without thinking," I explained while babbling. "I mean, I didn't say that stuff she told you I said. Well, I said it I guess but not the way she made it seem like."

"It's okay honey," Ruth assured me. "I thought it was wonderful. When you get to be an old-timer like me you'll appreciate hearing anything that resembles a compliment, so don't take it back because it made my day."

"Oh. Okay," I sheepishly replied.

"Dimples too," Ruth sighed. "You must drive the girls wild at school."

"Hardly."

"Well, at least you drove that one girl wild that Sophie was babbling about yesterday," Ruth mentioned. "She told me that you were going to be a sophomore come fall."

"Yes ma'am," I replied and got a funny growl in response to calling her that.

"What's that make you Kenny? 15? Boy, I vaguely remember 15, but I remember when it came time for me to decide what I wanted to study in college..."

"Whoa!" I interrupted when I realized what she was saying, having been distracted when she leaned back in the chair and gave me a better view of her breasts. "I'm not in high school. I'm in college. I'm 19."

"19?" Ruth gasped in what seemed like genuine surprise. "Sophomore? I'm sorry. I swear when Sophie - I thought she was talking about you being in high school - the way she always refers to you as her favorite little guy?"

"I know I don't look it," I admitted, being well aware of my baby face.

"I'm so sorry," Ruth repeated. "You must hate me for that. Here I am treating you like a kid and all."

"No you weren't, and besides, now I get to watch you blush."

"Serves me right," Ruth responded as her smile grew, and then she leaned further back in her chair and said, "That changes things."

"It does?"

"Sure it does," Ruth explained. "I was just having fun with you, teasing you like you were a kid."

"That's okay," I shrugged.

"And all that time you weren't a boy but a man," Ruth continued as she leaned further back, raising her arms and linking her hands behind her neck for my benefit. "Should have guessed by your shorts yesterday."

"Huh?" I mumbled as I tried so hard to look directly into her bluish grey eyes.

"Your shorts," Ruth repeated as she tried to see through the glass table top. "Yesterday they seemed to be giving away the fact that you were excited - at least I hope that bulge was caused by that."

I glanced down and saw that my khaki shorts did indeed announce when I was sporting an erection, and when she saw me standing up on the ladder yesterday I figured it must have been even more obvious.

What was weirder, I wondered as I looked at Ruth's nipples poking at her blouse? A 19 year old kid with a thing for women with big boobs and hair under their arms getting a hard on staring at a woman forty years his senior, or a 59 year old lady checking out a teenage boy's crotch?

"You wouldn't happen to be a virgin, would you Kenny?" Ruth said as she brought me back to earth from my wool-gathering.

"No,"

"Been with a lot of girls?" she asked.

"No, I was with one girl a lot of times if that matters," I admitted.

"Even think about fucking a woman three times your age?" Ruth asked.

"Not until yesterday," I confessed after recovering from hearing her swear like one of the guys.

"I haven't been with a guy your age since - well - since I was a girl your age," Ruth explained as she lowered she arms briefly, depriving me of the glorious sight of her unshorn beauty, but then she reached behind herself and did what I wanted to do before, and after she shrugged off the dangling blouse she resumed her pose.

"In case you were wondering what hanging around this planet for almost six decades does to a woman," Ruth mused aloud as I gawked at her exposed chest.

Ruth's breasts were as big or bigger than footballs, and while they sagged a bit - after all they weren't salt-filled fake boobs but real honest-to-goodness breasts - they were incredible looking, and her large crimson areolas all pebbly and puffy with nipples like bullets, were spectacular.

"Well?" Ruth said finally when it was obvious I was speechless, smiling and asking, "Yawn? Vomit? Anything?"

"You're so sexy," I managed to get out.

"Thank you, but if you wanted to thank me properly..."

"Thanks," I said lamely.

"I was thinking more along the lines of you taking your shorts off for me so I can see what I've been thinking about for the last 24 hours."

"Here?" I asked as I looked at her yard and the surrounding area, and while it was secluded and all, my grandmother's house was right next door.

"Sure, why not. Nobody to see us except next door, and your Grandma will be at the library all afternoon," Ruth noted. "We have all day."

"It certainly doesn't look like you have anything to be ashamed of Kenny," Ruth said when I hesitated.

Totally out of character for me, I stood up and undid my belt so I could coax my shorts down. Ruth gasped - at me?. My tight white briefs looked like a snake was trying to escape from them as the cotton arched out on the side, and the large wet spot my drooling dick had caused in them would have made me more self-conscious if that was possible.

I yanked my underwear down, causing my freed dick to spring around wildly, and although I wanted to sit down Ruth asked me to stand there for a moment. I did as she asked but not without embarrassment as my erection kept twitching uncontrollably.

"Thank you," Ruth said after examining my genitals. "I'm not sure what the technical term is, but let's just say that you have a huge cock there Kenny."

"Not really," I responded after sitting down and saw my arching prong looking up at me. "It looks like that because I'm such a shrimp."

"I already took that in account, and while that might add to the effect, the fact remains that you're well hung," Ruth concluded. "Perfect girth. Not too thick and not too thin and quite attractive as dicks go. About 8" or so give or take a smidgen, and a nice pair of balls there too."

I shrugged, not willing to tell her that she was giving me a bit more credit than I deserved, and as I went back to wondering what to do next I returned to drooling at the still posing Ruth.