Great Grandma Rachel Pt. 01

This is a story of a 92 year old great grandmother rediscovering her sex drive thanks to her 24 year old great grandson.

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Walking into the house with the groceries, I heard Mom say, "He'll be there. Love you too. Bye Bye."

"Are you volunteering me or Dad?"

"That was your great grandmother Rachel. I phoned to see how she is getting along and the conversation went to things around her house needing work. Since you are a recent college graduate with a Masters now, I told her you were probably up to the task and would be glad to help."

"Grandma Rachel? I haven't seen her since Grandpa Jacob's funeral 15 years ago. I remember because that was my first funeral you let me attend."

"She is still full of energy if the phone call is any indication. But at age 92, she's no longer a spring chick and needs some assistance. I hope you don't mind my volunteering you. With you moving to Colorado next month this could be your last chance to see her. Besides, it is only for a week."

"I get it, Mom. I'm glad to go. Is she my grandmother or great grandmother?"

"Great grandmother. Her daughter is your grandmother Mary, whose daughter is me. You are a rare commodity in this family as we are top heavy with daughters for multiple generations."

"When do I leave?"

"I told her you would be there on Saturday so that gives you a couple of days to get ready."

DAY 1

As I drove down Grandma Rachel's long tree-lined drive, the sound of tires on the gravel reminded me of the reception after Grandpa Jacob's funeral. There were so many cars I never noticed the white two story farm house. By the time I climbed the steps and stood on the porch, the screen door swung open and a little wisp of a woman just over 5 feet tall hugged my waist.

Her head came up almost to middle of my ribs as she stood on her toes. She squeezed as hard as her arms would allow. I looked down to see this smiling lady who looked to be 90 pounds soaking wet, with slightly wrinkled but not flabby skin, short cut gray hair, and blue eyes that sparkled with life. She wore a dark short sleeved print dress, hoes, and black laced shoes with square heels.

"My Jacob is back!" she declared.

I barely put down my suitcase to return the hug when she pulled my head down and planted a full kiss on my lips. I even felt her tongue. I remember wondering what was going on in her mind and being very impressed with her kissing skills. But the most vivid recollection is how quickly she let go of me and the shocked look on her face a few seconds into this passionate exchange.

"Oh Jake!! I am so sorry! You are the spitting image of my Jacob. It was like seeing him when he came home from fighting in Korea."

I smiled into her blushing face saying, "Well, he was a handsome devil, wasn't he?"

Her infectious laugh put us both at ease.

I picked up my luggage and she guided me to a spare bedroom on the first floor. Putting the bag down, Grandma led me on a quick tour of the house. Our bedrooms shared a common bathroom. Downstairs also had the living room, dining area, and kitchen. Upstairs were two bedrooms with a shared bath room and a closed door she said was originally a sewing room.

She threw together a light lunch of chicken salad sandwiches, chips, and iced tea. After we finished eating in the dining room, I helped her take the dishes into the kitchen. She insisted on doing the dishes herself so I stood and we talked about the house.

"My Jacob and I bought it when we married in 1949. I was 18 and he was 20. This was one of those Sears kit homes and was built around 1910. The couple were third generation on the land. The original homestead was worn out so they built this one. None of their kids were interested in taking over the operation so they sold all the farm land over time except for the house. Finally, they couldn't keep up with the maintenance. They knew our families and gave us a great deal in exchange we would take care of it which we did. They went to live with one of their kids and died within a few months of each other about six years later."

She paused looking out the window above the sink then sighed.

"Are you OK?"

"I'm fine. Just remembering the Wainwrights after we signed all the paperwork. They were happy for us but they looked so sad. I hope I never leave this place."

With the dishes put away, she led me back to the living room. We sat at opposite ends of a very comfortable overstuffed floral print cloth sofa.

"I am still amazed how much you look like my Jacob! I apologize for that kiss. I miss him so."

"I remember meeting him once about a year or two before he died. It was a wedding I think."

"That's right! I forgot about your cousin Olivia's wedding in Cleveland. He was so happy to meet you since you were named after him."

"I don't know anything about him except he worked in banking."

"Well, that is partially true. He began working in the local bank after the Korean war. He went to night school and got a degree in finance. Then he started investing in various stocks and bonds. Over time he was making more from the investments than his banking job so he quit and worked full time on the investments. Then he bought homes around here, fixed them up, and either rented them out or sold them."

"Wow! I had no idea."

"We were married 59 years and every day with him was special. He died in his sleep 15 years ago a few hours after......"

She stared uncomfortably at her lap.

"After what?" I asked.

She looked up at me declaring, "We are adults here. I don't think it will do any harm. My Jacob died in his sleep a few hours after we had sex."

Her face was a mix of mischief and pride.

"Wait.....Mom told me you are 92 years old."

"That's right."

"That means you were 77 and having sex. How is that possible?"

"I don't understand the question."

"Isn't that too old to be having sex?"

"I didn't know there was an age limit on sex and love."

"Well....I mean.....I thought....."

"Our sex life had slowed down? Well, yes it had slowed down. We made love only once or twice a week."

The shocked look on my face amused her.

"We weren't as active as when we were your age. I only had two orgasms that night. One oral and one vaginal because he didn't have the same endurance. Are you OK, Jake? You look a little pale."

Her sly smile told me she was enjoying this conversation. I shifted uneasily then said, "Mom warned me you were outspoken. I just didn't realize how much."

"Oh Jake! I've learned life is too short not to speak my mind."

"What else can you tell me about Grandpa Jacob?" desperately hoping to change the conversation.

"Well, let's see.....Aside from finance, he loved working with his hands. The garage out back is filled with manual tools, power tools, lumber, and probably enough nails to build 3 houses. He was faithful to me and loved all 4 of his daughters. And they loved him. Since we've already broached the subject about sex, I can tell you he died with a smile on his face."

This conversation was not going as I expected. I decided to cut my losses.

"What are some of the chores you need help with?"

Without missing a beat she said, "I need an inventory of everything in the garage. Our insurance agent stopped by a few days ago. I mentioned about my Jacob's power tools and he looked in the garage. The homeowners policy has a standard amount of for power tools and he says most likely we are way above that. I need to provide him a list of everything in that garage, with photos, including the 3 autos so he can get a quote for the homeowners and our auto policies. That upstairs sewing room is going to be our library. I want to organize the books by subject. And we probably should make a complete list of the books to add to the insurance policy. And the computer is too slow. I want to see if it can be repaired. I love this house but the ceilings are too high and I can't change the lights."

A quick glance at the living room ceiling fan confirmed only 1 working bulb out of 4.

"While there is still light, would you like to show me the garage so I can get an idea of how much there is to inventory?"

"Sure."

She stood up and walked through the kitchen toward the shed. I grunted and struggled to get up. Stopping by my bedroom for the tablet, I jogged a bit to catch up as she opened the shop door to the deceptively large brown wooden garage. The single 4 pane window faced towards the driveway. It was like walking into a museum.

There sat a grinder, a belt sander, a table saw, and a wood lathe. In between these perfectly preserved relics from the 1950s and 60s were work tables and cabinets. Along the walls were peg boards holding a variety of tools like hammers, wrenches, and drills. Stacked neatly by size against one wall was a collection of lumber that was impressive by amount and type. I opened up a tall pantry filled with clear bottles of various sizes. Each bottle held screws, nails, nuts, bolts, washers, and God only knows what else. It was the neatest most organized work area I ever saw.

"Wow" came out of my mouth about a dozen times. What was most admirable was how everything was in its place. Grandma was beaming with pride because I appreciated the order and neatness. The table allowed me to take numerous photos of everything.

"I think I could do an inventory using my tablet and an Excel spreadsheet. Might take most of the day depending on how much detail is needed. Plus, we will need to see what the present value is for some of these tools."

"Would you like to see the cars?"

"Certainly."

We went to the door furthest away from the house. I turned the handle and pulled the door toward me and up. On blocks under the canvas tarp was a deep blue Packard touring car. I estimated it was built before World War II. Various tools and car parts were on the table to my right.

The second door opened up to a Chevrolet Corvette. This appeared to be an early model and was also on blocks. It looked like it was produced by the factory last week.

The third door had a Pontiac of some kind. Based on the two previous doors, I figured it was valuable. All the cars seemed to be in mint condition. I told her more research was needed before sending information to her agent.

I examined each car carefully taking multiple photographs with my tablet. All the parts seemed to be there. We closed all the doors and walked back to the house. It was getting to be about dinner time.

"Would you like to go to a restaurant for dinner? Or would you prefer I bring something back here to eat?"

"I really love those McDonald's Fish meals," she said enthusiastically.

"Shall we go there and eat?"

"I would love to."

A few minutes later, Grandma Rachel met me in the living room wearing a new pair of light blue sneakers, blue jeans, and a pink cotton shirt which read "Sexy Grandma". The moment we were on the road she talked non-stop.

"You know, Jake, I think this is the first time I've been away from the house on a fun drive in years! I don't drive now. Traffic scares me. See that run down house? That used to be the Jenson place. When did the Smithingtons cut down that beautiful oak tree? All that's left is a stump! Glad to see they finally resurfaced this road. The joke was it was so bumpy a person could lose 5 pounds a week driving on it daily. The Sandinos finally repainted their house. That place was the ugliest shade of green. I like the blue color. The Hinkle place is up for sale. They always had the most beautiful Christmas lights."

We passed a cemetery to our right. She just stared then looked down for a few moments.

"That's where my Jacob is now," Grandma said quietly.

She was more buoyant by the time we sat down with our food. She devoured her sandwich while I enjoyed a Big Mac. On the way back, I asked her why the couple that stopped by our table seemed so relieved when you introduced me as your great grandson.

Clapping her hands and giggling she explained, "The Morton's, especially Mrs. Morton, for years have encouraged me to consider dating. I think she was afraid I had taken her up on the idea with some young stud who is after my money."

We had a good laugh while she pointed out more history. She avoided looking at the cemetery. We were in the living room unwinding from the day when she decided to ask some more bombshell questions.

"I have some questions about your generation, Jake. Is oral sex still popular?"

"Yes it is."

"What do women do for birth control?"

"Well, there is the pill. Women are much more insistent on men wearing condoms. There are other options like IUDs. I'm honestly not your best source of information, Grandma."

"What about anal?"

"What about it?" I asked, squirming.

"Do young people do anal sex?"

"I don't know."

"Have you ever done anal sex, Jake?"

"No."

"Do the women in your generation shave their pubic hair?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever had a hand job?"

"Yes."

"A blow job?"

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy them?"

"Yes, I did. Why do you ask?

"Just wondering. You seem uncomfortable answering these questions and trying to hide that erection."

She had me there. Maybe it was the open way she asked these questions. Maybe it was because she seemed so uninhibited. I only know I'd never had a conversation like this with anyone. I didn't want to admit defeat by changing the subject. I searched for a question and thought of a great one.

"Were you and Grandpa Jacob virgins when you married?"

Without hesitation she replied, "Yes we were. Our wedding night is quite a story if you want to hear it."

It felt like Grandma was daring me.

"You've already blown me away on having sex in your 70s and these questions. What could you say to top that?"

That was all the encouragement she needed.

"Our mothers were good friends. When they realized we were serious about each other, they asked us separately if we were waiting until our wedding night to have sex. We both said yes not knowing what the other might say. His mom said he must wear a condom, he must be slow and gentle, and he must never force me to do anything in bed. My mom said to be certain he has a condom on and that we talk before the first time having sex."

"What did your mom mean about 'talk before the first time having sex'?"

"I asked her that very question and she said for both of us to get naked in separate rooms, wrap up in a blanket, then meet on the bed and talk about sex. Especially, what we thought sex was and what we expected. Then she said we would know when it was time to stop talking and to act. His mom told him the same thing."

I was stunned. This sounded so amazing; so romantic; so practical. So strange.

"So, what happened?"

Grandma Rachel looked blissfully into the distance then continued the story.

"The hotel room had a separate bathroom so we took turns stripping and wrapping in blankets. We left the bathroom light on but all others were off. We faced each other on the bed sitting cross legged and giggled for a few minutes because we were nervous. Then I asked what he thought sex was. My Jacob turned beet red and shared it was what the animals did on the farm to bring in the next generation. That got us to talking if sex was only for breeding purposes. We quickly agreed sex was more than breeding. That got us to discussing what we expected. By now I was feeling comfortable with him so I dropped the blanket from my shoulders. I covered my little boobies for a moment, then let my hands fall so he could see them including the protruding nipples. I told him my expectation of sex was a special act of love between us. That I expected him to touch me gently and slowly. Then I confessed that touching my breasts was very arousing. I guessed that kissing them and licking them would also be great. Finally, I trusted him enough to declare my body was his. He flung his blanket open showing everything including his very erect penis. I had never seen a man's penis. It looked so big! There was also a small aluminum square next to his knee. After a few moments, he asked if I would like to hold it. I said yes so he took my hand and placed it on his erection. He even let me feel his balls. We talked about his penis and he showed me which parts felt good. It was so firm! I asked if there was a bone in it. He assured me there was no bone. I rubbed him a few times and this white stuff came out. He saw the look of fear on my face and told me it was OK. That was his seed. He offered me his blanket to clean my hands."

She was quietly lost in thought.

"And then?"

"I opened my blanket, spread my legs, and showed him my lady parts. I took his index finger and put it in my wet vagina. He jerked it away because he thought it was urine. I showed him where the urine came from. Then I explained the wetness was like a signal I was horny. I took his index finger again and put it back in my vagina. He rubbed around and found the g-spot. He feared I had some disease. I assured him that was not the case but I wasn't sure what it was. I just knew it felt good. Then I took his wet finger and brought it up to my clitoris. He quickly understood his finger must be moist before touching or rubbing it. I let him rub my clitoris and tried to describe what was happening in my body. All I could do was make some noises and roll my eyes back into my head. When I fell back holding his hand and twitching he was afraid I was hurt. I told him I thought that was an orgasm. When I put his finger back into my vagina, he could feel the contractions. I brought him to me and we kissed. We both declared our love for each other. I said I was ready to be his wife. He fumbled around with that condom wrapper. I helped him put it on. We kissed many times. And then we decided it was time. I lay back with hands on his shoulders and legs spread. He was slow and gentle with my breasts and brought me to another orgasm by licking and sucking the nipples. Then I took his penis and guided it in. He moved slowly and steadily which made breaking my hymen almost painless. I could feel another orgasm coming so I helped by rubbing my clitoris while he concentrated on imitating a piston. I asked him to go faster and he did. That third orgasm was the most intense and I felt his penis spurting seed into his condom. After that, there was no stopping us. We talked after each time to decide what we liked and didn't like. Then we tried variations. We went through 3 more condoms before sunrise."

She was looking at the floor silently reliving that night. Then scooted down next to me. She tenderly kissed my jaw.

"Thank you, Jake. That is one of my favorite memories with my Jacob."

I put my arm around her. She snuggled closer.

"Thank you for sharing such a beautiful and intimate story. You two were deeply in love. I hope I can find a woman as wonderful as you, Grandma Rachel."

Her eyes twinkled as she looked up saying, "You really know how to charm a girl, don't you?"

"It's in my genes."

We laughed holding each other. She asked about my studies so I explained about my Masters and the new job in Colorado. After more visiting, we yawned simultaneously.

Grandma looked up at me with concern on her face.

"Jake, I would like to ask a big favor."

"Sure. What?"

"Being with you today has reminded me how lonely this house is without my Jacob. May I lay next to you in bed? I promise I won't do anything inappropriate or embarrassing like jump your bones."

"Aren't you worried about what the family might say if word gets out?"

"I think this can be our little secret."

"I am honored Grandma. It is fine with me."

"Thank you", she whispered.

We stood and hugged for a long moment. Then we walked to our respective bedrooms. I did a quick stop at the bathroom making sure the door to her room was locked. After doing my business, I flushed then unlocked her door. I closed the door to my room, stripped down to boxers and t-shirt and crawled into bed. I heard the toilet flush and she appeared in an ankle length long sleeved light blue night gown. She looked absolutely charming. Grandma turned off the bathroom light. Her bedroom light was on as she walked toward me. I could swear her nipples were showing through the fabric.