Grandma's Big Oven and Me

"I don't know if I want to go down on a whore."

The other guys all stopped what they were doing then and started talking about Elmer's concern, which you have to admit was a sensible one.

Grandpa brightened at this point. I saw the smile on his face as his friends began to back away from the idea of eating me.

"Oh no, she's fine. She's clean as a whistle!," Grandma said in a loud voice, getting a panicky look on her face. Grandpa looked bewildered but I understood right away where Grandma was coming from, which is an example in case you don't know it of women being smarter then men, which starts, naturally, with girls being smarter than boys. I have a theory about this, one of my other theories, which is that the best things that human beings have are cocks and brains and since men have the cocks, God gave females better brains to kind of even things out. Anyway, what Grandpa didn't understand was that just as Grandma didn't want word to get out that she put her granddaughter in the oven with nothing on but an apple, which was why she was presenting me as a whore, she didn't want word to get out either that she had a whore in her oven, and the only way to keep this a secret was to involve these men and make them fearful of their wives. If they left the house without having sex with me they would feel free to blab all over town about the whore in Grandma's oven.

"How do you know she's clean,?" Elmer said.

Bob had been the big talker until then but now Elmer, who was a little wrinkled bald guy, was becoming like a leader.

"Because she is, Elmer. She's... a virgin."

"A virgin whore? What's that, Lucy, you got a virgin mother and a virgin queen, and now you got a virgin whore?", Elmer said.

"Don't you be sassy with me, Elmer Smith. The man we got her from is saving her for an Arab Sheik. She has to be a virgin for this here shriek but it's all right for her to have other kinds of sex so as to give her some experience. You can believe that or not."

"Lucy, you mean one of them Iraqi Shiites," Bob said.

"No, Bob. I mean a sheik. They're like a prince. Abner was fibbin before but not paying enough for you fellas to fuck her. He just didn't want to say anything about the sheik. But now you know."

"All right, if she's a virgin, she got a cherry. We can check that out," Elmer said.

Grandma put her hands on her hips and had a staring contest with Elmer for a few seconds and then she said, "Yes we can," and she went over to the counter where she had put the pie she was going to bake before she decided to pretend to bake me, only you wouldn't know a pie was there because Grandma had draped it with a pair of dishcloths to hide it when Grandpa came home. She fiddled there at the counter with her back to us, and everyone wondering what she was doing, and then she came back with one of the dishcloths over her hand, draping it the way the other dishcloth still draped the pie.

"Just in case I make her, you know, bleed a little," she said, showing us the dishcloth. "I'll check her first, Elmer, because if I don't find the proof that she's a virgin there's no use you checking her."

So Grandma checked me out, concealing things for modesty's sake with the dishcloth, she explained to everyone, while I lay there wondering how she was going to wiggle out of the situation until I realized that her finger, which was doing some wiggling of its own, had a companion. Grandma was putting something inside me and I had a pretty good idea what it was. When her finger came out the something stayed behind.

"Stay still," she told me, softly. "Go ahead, Elmer. Check her. She's a virgin for sure. The proof is in her pudding. But be careful you don't puncture her. Be easy, real easy."

So Elmer checked me out, too. He had a pretty long finger and he was very careful with it, inching in like a guy feeling his way in a dangerous cave. Elmer had gotten a kind of worried look on his face ever since Bob said I might be being saved for an Iraqi Shiite and I think this worry made him extra careful.

"Geez, I think I found it!," Elmer said about the same time I felt an odd nudge.

Elmer acquired a pensive expression and I acquired another nudge. "I don't know," he said, "is this how a girl's cherry feels?"

"I guarantee you, Elmer, it's exactly how a cherry feels," Grandma said.

I would have laughed if I didn't have that darn gag in my mouth. I thought I knew what Grandma had put inside me and now I was sure of it.

My favorite thing in Grandma's kitchen was the antique chandelier with its molded glass shades that hung over the dinner table. The lamp was right above my head and I had viewed it from this unusual perspective when I wasn't watching the men or my grandparents, and I happened to be looking at it when the lamp began to move. Whoops, I was the one moving. I had become so use to the men touching and poking at me that I didn't realize big dumb Bob had grabbed my ankles. Bob pulled me down the table, getting my legs over the end of it and then over his shoulders. No one said he could go first, Bob just decided that on his own.

A bunch of shouting broke out. Some of the old guys yelled at Bob for taking matters, meaning me, into his own hands, meaning literally, while other guys were egging him on.

"Yeah, Bob, make her cum, make her cum!", is one of the yells that made an impression on me.

Grandma shouted, too. I heard her say, "ladies first!" I lost sight of Grandpa. He had backed away, or maybe he was behind me. It seemed everyone else was blabbing like crazy and moving this way and that way on both sides of the table or circling behind Bob at the end of the table. Bob wasn't blabbing himself, and the only part of him that was moving was his head, hurting me a little with his stubby beard, and after that the only part of him I could tell was moving was his tongue. Was it ever! Bob's tongue made me forget about the sandpaper on my thighs. His tongue was like Bob, big and pushy. I kind of respected Bob for being a take charge guy, for paying no attention to all the hub bub and doing to me what he wanted, and I got to really, really respect Bob's tongue.

"Jesus, look at her," someone said.

I couldn't help it. I was twisting at the waist and twisting my head at the same time. I don't know if you've ever tried panting through your nose. Don't bother if you haven't. Grandma saw the problem I was having. She pulled out my gag and pushed it under my chin, letting it stay strapped on me like a necklace. I heard myself gasping. Everyone else could hear it, too, because people had stopped talking by this time. Bob and I were putting on a pretty good show.

Oh, geez!, I thought, suddenly. I was going to have an orgasm, which was bound to happen of course. Then everything stopped. I lifted my head to see what was wrong. Bob's wet face had lifted, too. It had a puzzled look and Bob's mouth was moving as if something had gotten inside it that Bob wasn't expecting. No one said a word. We all just looked at Bob, waiting for him to do whatever it was he was going to do. Several seconds went by while Bob blinked and worked his mouth. Then he swallowed, shrugged, and dipped his head from whence it came. Crisis over and no one except me, and probably Grandma, any the wiser about what had happened. Not every girl gets to lose her cherry twice, I laughed to myself, just before Bob's tongue turned my switch back on.

I sort of went crazy after that. Bob made me cum just like the old guy had shouted for him to do. I was still quaking when Elmer started his turn. To make things worse, or maybe better, Grandma got whip cream from the frige and spooned it onto my boobs and tummy, then invited the guys to help themselves, so to speak. The coldness felt good on my skin once I got past the shock to my nipples. Bob pushed an old guy in front of him out of the way and moved right back in. He bent over me and I felt his mouth and tongue in a brand new way. I guess Bob had forgotten my tits were for the birds or probably the whip cream made them acceptable to his refined taste. Anyway, I couldn't complain. Bob was good as ever with his big fat mouth. Another guy took the other side. I closed my eyes. Bob and the new guy did me high and Elmer did me low.

It was too much, even for a person having a slut episode. I swooned into a kinky dream in which I was surrounded by "Huge-kins", old guys with big cocks lining up to fuck me, and Grandma flying over us on a broomstick, screaming, "You're in the Land of Jiz, deary". Beyond the hulking Huge-kins a short yellow brick road led to a big oven at the end of it and the most amazing part of the dream came when Grandma hollered down that when the Huge-kins finished with me I would be made into a meat pie and cooked in the oven. That was when the dream ended. I came back to reality to find a whole new commotion going on.

"Get out! Get out!." Grandpa was yelling.

"There isn't time, Arnold," Grandma yelled back. She was at the kitchen window.

Bob and the other guys who had been having me for dessert were standing around now, looking at each other.

Remember I said at the beginning of this true story that my mother came to live with my grandparents after I did? Well, she was here. Her car had just driven up and she was getting out her suitcases. My grandparents weren't expecting her; she had invited herself. My mother was like Bob in that way. She always thought that because she was beautiful she could do anything she wanted. I think that attitude was partly why Daddy got fed up. Also, I didn't hear it in my dream, but in the frantic discussion over my mother showing up it came out who I really was. You would think that would be less surprising than me being a virgin whore who was supposed to be saved for a sheik, or maybe a Shiite, but the old guys seemed just as surprised as before.

As usual, Grandma figured out what to do, which isn't to say she came up with the best plan in the world. Bob owns his own pest control company and the old guys had come with Bob in his van which has the words, "RAT BUSTERS!" on the sides with pictures of rats croaking on the floor. It was almost next to where my mother parked. Grandma said that she and Grandpa would go outside and stop my mother from coming in, saying that Bob and his workers were getting a rat in the house and that no one could go inside while they were doing that and this would give me time to get the whip cream and so forth off me and get my clothes back on and then I could go upstairs and be by myself in my room. Then the guys would come out with an old cardboard box Grandma pulled out from under the sink, saying the rat was in the box, and they would leave in the van and that would be that. Everyone said "ok" and Grandma and Grandpa hurried outside to intercept my mother.

There was a long silence while Bob and the other guys seemed to be considering the situation and then Bob said, "lock the door."

"Yeah, so her mother don't come in yet," one of the guys said.

"No asshole. So we can fuck her."

(to be continued)