Jamal's Grandfather

Note to reader: for the background to this story read my story Jamal. All persons in this story are 18+.

Jamal jetted back to Atlanta the next morning. After my run on the beach I went to the clinic early. I work as a nurse in a family practice. The first order of business was bending over the desk of our youngest physician Dr. Premananda. He dropped his trousers, rolled on a condom, lifted my skirt and plunged into me.

Married, of East Indian descent and just twenty-eight he's the most handsome physician in the practice. He's also the youngest. I bent over for him his first day on the job. He didn't have a condom so blew a hot load into my bare cougar pussy. It only took a couple minutes. We've been doing it most mornings I've worked since. He wears condoms to protect himself, his young wife and whomever else he fucks.

"Fuck I missed you, Sandy," he hissed, his hands pulling at my hips while he thrusted into me.

I had the previous week off--the week I met Jamal on the beach and made him my newest cub by giving him my body each and every day... and taking his.

Prem's cock is nowhere near as big as Jamal's but it makes for easier quickies. It took time to open all the way for Jamal. Not so for Prem's average member. A couple pushes and he was all the way in me. A couple minutes of pumping and heavy breathing and he was done.

"Ahhhhh," he gasped.

I squeezed him tight inside me and wiggled my hips side to side. Prem giggled. His hands caressed my butt then down the backs of my thighs. He pulled out, pulled off his condom, knotted it and tossed it in the private trash he kept under his desk. I held his wet fading erection then cupped his ample balls with my wet fingers.

"Fuck, Sandy," he gasped, pulling up sexy bikini briefs, trapping my hand in them.

I giggled, pulled my hand out and dropped my skirt. He tucked in his shirt, zipped up and cinched his belt.

"When does your husband get back? I want to see you again," he said, his hands cupping my breasts.

"Not for another week," I replied, reaching for my bag. I hadn't worn underwear so it wouldn't be in the way of our morning quickie. I had a pair in my purse which I took out and pulled on before straightening my skirt.

At twenty-eight Prem was a little old for my taste in cubs but too handsome not to take on as a one. Besides as one of my employers it meant I had him wrapped around my little finger. I rarely used my power over him to make him miserable. His desire for me already made him miserable.

He grabbed me from behind, pressed his pelvis to my ass then moved his hands up over my breasts which he squeezed, pushed together then pulled apart. His warm dark hands pushed into my bra through my cleavage and held my girls.

"I have to have you again," he said. "I need you. Where were you all last week?"

"I was busy," I said, squirming out of his grasp. "Come on, Prem. I have to go. Everyone will be here soon."

He let go. I straightened my clothes again and adjusted my bra.

"I'm hard again," he said.

"We don't have time, Raj," I said. His first name was Rajiv. I only called him Raj when I meant business.

"Lunch. Today. Your place," he said.

"Okay," I said.

++++++++++++

Our practice closes for an hour each day at lunch. Not five minutes away Prem followed me home, stripped by my bed and unhooked my bra from behind. I had just removed my top. His warm fingers swept straps off my shoulders. His hands slipped under my DDD cups, squeezed my tits gently and moved them in delicious circles. I pulled my brassiere away liking the look of his dark fingers holding my breasts and tracing their tan lines.

Propped on the pillows against my headboard, Prem stroked his hard on a few times and rolled on a condom.

"Get on me," he said, as I wiggled out of panties.

I climbed on the bed, straddled him, lubed his cock and slid on. Soon my tits were bouncing in his face. He couldn't take his eyes off them. He had had his fun bending me over his desk before work. Now it was my turn.

I spread my fingers over his defined pectoral muscles. They were smooth, his torso shaved, his bush nicely manscaped, his balls shaved. He had been a hairy monster first few times time we fucked. This changed immediately after he asked if I liked my men smooth and I said yes. He even shaved his ass but his legs were hairy as ever. He said his young wife appreciated his sudden interest in manscaping. She's 24. I wonder if she had any idea he did it to please the 52 year old cougar her handsome husband was fucking on a regular basis.

I looked down into his eyes. So dark brown they looked black in the low light of my bedroom but large and bright they looked deeply into my baby blues. For the hundredth time I marveled at the length of his beautiful eyelashes as I pumped my hips on his red hot loverod. It wasn't long before the tension in my body began to peak and my trembling thighs announced the start of my orgasm. My eyes rolled back in my head and my open mouth moaned the pleasure of my cougar pussy pulsating against Prem's hardness.

I lowered to him, my breasts flattening against his warm chest. My face rested in the pillow beside his, my mouth open panting. He kissed my ear, neck and jaw on that side until I turned my head and met his lips with mine.

"Go again," he said when I broke our kiss and pushed myself up.

I did. I rode him to another orgasm before he rolled me on my back fucked me like he hadn't seen me in two weeks which he hadn't. Absence doesn't only make the heart fonder it makes the sex hotter. I loved his animal lust driving him between my legs. His dark brown Indian body glistened with perspiration.

He yelled when he came, collapsed to me but soon climbed off, stripped off his condom and disappeared into the master bath. I listened to his long pee as I dressed. We had been at it a half hour but now it was time to head back to the office. Prem showered, dressed quickly and left. We couldn't be seen arriving together. Before he left I inspected his face and neck to make sure no lip gloss was left behind and his hair and clothes were straightened properly.

I lingered, brushed out and arranged my tousled hair, freshened make up and made sure my outfit was presentable before leaving myself.

++++++++++++

About an hour after dinner that evening I was relaxing on the couch with a glass of red and the latest Grisham novel when the doorbell rang. A huge older black man in sunglasses towered outside backlit by the setting summer sun slanting in under the porch roof. His large head was shaved. I recognized him immediately. I saw him the night I dropped Jamal off after having him all afternoon that first day I picked him up on the beach. It was Jamal's grandfather.

I didn't expect him to remember me but wondered if he would. Three decades ago he picked me up on a different Florida beach when I was on spring break in college. He and his NFL team mates violated me and my girlfriends repeatedly.

"Yes?" I said through our wrought iron screen/security door.

"Are you Sandy?"

"Yes," I replied. "Who are you?"

"I'm Terrance. Jamal's grandfather. I'd like to have a word with you if I could."

"Jamal?" I said, feigning ignorance and innocence.

"I know he saw you all last week. I saw you when you dropped him off. May I come in?"

"I'm alone. My husband isn't home," I said. "I'm not sure it's appropriate."

"Does your husband know you pick up eighteen year old boys from the beach? I just want a quick word. I mean you no trouble."

My husband knows I'm active with young men so that was no real threat. Still I opened the door but had to step out of the way as his large frame passed inside. I closed the door against the oppressive heat and humidity. Blood rushed to my groin.

His shoulders were as broad as I remembered but slumped a bit with age. He wore sandals, white golfing shorts and a white polo shirt striped with thin horizontal black lines. He no longer had the flat belly and narrow waist I remembered but muscled arms and legs protruded from his clothes. His casual shorts weren't tight but showed a nice bulge. I like the sense of fullness there. I bit my lip.

He looked around the room. "Nice place you have here."

"Thank you," I said. "Would you like to sit down? May I offer you something to drink?"

"No thank you."

His eyes ran over me. I wore faded Daisy Duke cut-offs which hung loosely on my hips. A black cropped spaghetti strap halter exposed my midriff. With no bra to contain them my big girls moved freely underneath. His eyes fixed on them. I wondered if my nipples were showing through. I also wondered if he found my scent alluring.

He frowned. It took effort to move his eyes up to meet mine.

"Look I know women pursue him. It's already been a problem for his parents at home. They're trying to raise him with good Christian morals. So are his grandmother and I. We've come to ask you not to see him again."

"Where is she?" I said.

"She's at home. She doesn't know about you. I'm here to ask you, please, not to see or tempt him again. Did he tell you who I am?"

"Yes," I said. "I remember watching you play."

"So you know the kind temptation star athletes endure from women."

Poor star athletes, I thought, remembering how much Jamal's grandfather loved my mouth around the head of his big cock and how much he and his NFL buddies loved pumping my teen pussy full of their hot African seed.

"I can only imagine," I said.

"No imagination is required," he said. "I know it from my own experience and the pain I caused by giving in to that temptation. Now I'm not saying it's all your fault. He's a very handsome boy who tempted you as well."

"Yes he is," I said.

"How old are you Sandy?"

""Fifty-two."

"You realize he's only eighteen right?

"Oh yes," I said.

"Did he approach you on the beach?"

"Came right up to me," I replied.

"And he came home with you? Here?"

"Yes. Your grandson is very alluring."

"And he saw you every day last week?"

"Twice a day," I replied. "In the morning after running the beach together and again each afternoon before his workout. He's quite the lover--"

"I don't need to hear the details," he said holding up a hand to stop me, then asked anyway. "Did you fuck each time you met?"

"Multiple times each," I replied. My whole body tingled--my pussy most of all.

Terrance didn't know my pussy was tingling for him.

"I know, I know," he said. "I was the same way when I was his age. Come sit with me, Sandy. I want to pray with you. With the help of Jesus you will no longer be tempted by my grandson or he for you. Have you been saved? It's really easy. All you have to do is say this simple prayer with me and you'll be saved."

He held out a hand and led me to the couch. That's when I noticed he was holding a Bible in his other hand. It looked small in his giant paw. So did my hand in his other. Multicolored tabs marked several pages. I remembered Jamal saying something to the effect that his grandfather and other retired pro-football players had become born-again Christians.

I sat next to him on the couch, closed my eyes and said the Jesus prayer with him. He pronounced me born again. My pussy felt wet.

"All your sins past, present and future are forgiven," he smiled, resting a large warm hand on the bare skin of my lower back between cropped halter and Daisy Dukes. Something electric went up my spine.

"Thank you," I said innocently. "Can I hung you?"

"Yes," he smiled.

I put my arms around his thick muscled neck and pulled myself tightly to him hoping my scent filled his nostrils. It worked. He inhaled deeply. When he turned to me I pressed my breasts fully against him. His strong arms pulled me tightly to him. I moved my legs so I was straddling him sitting on his lap, my head over his shoulder.

"I better go," he said, unwrapping arms from my back but leaving his hands on my sides as he moved to get up.

"Don't go," I whispered in his ear and bit its lobe.

"This isn't right," he said, getting up with me still pressed close hugging him.

I kissed his neck as I slid down his body. His hands held my sides so he wouldn't drop me, but as I slipped down his hands brushed the sides of my breasts. Instead of letting go his hands lingered there then cupped and moved my tits.

I knew I had him.

"God give me strength," he gasped.

I liked his God-given strength but didn't say it aloud. I let his hands squeeze them and felt his fingers and thumbs brush over my erect nipples which were pushing through the thin fabric of my halter. Then his big paws moved down over my bare midriff, round to the small of my back and down over the denim of my Daisy Dukes. He squeezed my butt in both hands and pulled me strongly to himself. I gasped.

His hands unsqueezed my butt, slid up to my bare lower back then pushed strongly into my shorts and squeezed my bare ass pulling cheeks apart. From behind his large fingertips brushed my labia where I hoped his big cock would soon be. I was glad my old Levi's cut-offs were loose-fitting enough to allow this but as his strong arms pressed his hands in it felt like he was going to strip me out of them right there. Then he pulled his hot hands out of my shorts and I felt his fingers run around my belt line to the front and begin to unbutton them.

My hands which had been resting on his belly and chest now felt the long hard lump through the front of his shorts. I unhitched his belt, opened his shorts and felt his long hot hard on through his underwear.

"God help me," he said in a whispered gasp, his hands pulling my fly so strongly the rest of the buttons popped open.

His fingers pushed between my legs and found me wet for him. I gasped in pleasure.

My fingers traced his long hard lump out to the end. There I found a wet spot. I stuck my other hand in his boxers and wrapped fingers around his cock.

When I tugged at his shorts he let go of me and pulled them off. They landed on the floor with his boxers. I held his magnificent black cock in both hands. It wasn't as rigid as Jamal's but still hard, hot and beautiful--filled with African blood.

He pushed shorts off my butt. They fell to the floor around my ankles. I stepped out of them. I let go of his cock and pulled off my halter. My DDDs swung free. They weren't as high as they had been when he fucked me at nineteen when he was thirty-nine but he could not keep eyes or hands off them. Then he froze, let go of my breasts and squeezed his eyes closed.

"God help me save her," he whispered in a prayer again.

When he fucked me in his beach house when I was in college he was high on weed and coke. Now he was high on Jesus. I decided to play along.

"God sent you to save me," I said, then sank to my knees, wrapped fingers around his cock, licked the bead of precum off his head then wrapped lips around it and began sucking.

When I looked up he had dropped his head back his eyes closed in ecstasy--probably saying a prayer of thanks to God.

"God wants you to take your shirt off," I said when I came up for air.

He did. At seventy-two he was completely smooth--fully manscaped. I wondered how many of the women he saved for Jesus sucked him off and had the fear of God rammed into them.

I lifted his long black log and sucked his huge pendulous balls which hung much lower than I remembered. He moaned in pleasure. I sucked ample amounts of precum from his love pipe doubting his wife had sucked him in years. Probably decades. No. That chore was left to younger women he brought to Christ.

When his old thighs began to quiver he stumbled back a step and sat on the couch. I knelt between his legs and sucked his delicious chocolate log. His hands felt for my tits then pulled me up to his lap. I straddled him and guided his love rocket inside me, pushing down feeling his hot throbbing meat open me.

"Oh God," he gasped.

I bit my lower lip and hummed in pleasure as I slid up and down on his dick. His hands continued to cup, caress, knead and squeeze my tits. Like Jamal his grandfather towered over me even as I sat riding his cock. He had to bend down to kiss my breasts. Soon his mouth began sucking them hard. His lips pulled at my nipples.

My body burned with passion as I bucked on his cock, grinding against the base of his shaft in that way which makes my eyes roll back. One of his hands moved off my breast, slid up my chest and grabbed my neck. I knew instantly he could crush me in his giant paw. My eyes opened and looked into his.

"Jezebel," his voice rumbled in rich baritone. "God sent me to save you."

"Yes! Yes! Save me daddy! Save me," I gasped, my hips pumping endlessly.

His big hand squeezed tighter. A thrill ran up my spine. My hands grasped his massive forearm feeling its power. I gasped through his tight grip on my throat. It heightened the tension. I felt climax rushing towards me,

"God told me to save you with my dick," he said.

"Oh please God yes!" I cried. "Please save me with his dick!"

"Are you sorry for your sins Jezebel?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sorry for your wanton sexuality?"

"Oh God yes!"

"Are you sorry you seduced my grandson with your wanton body?"

"Yes!"

"Say it!"

"I'm sorry I seduced your grandson for my wanton desires!"

"Say it to God not to me, Jezebel. Say Jamal by his name."

"Father in Heaven I'm sorry for seducing Jamal with my body."

"How many times did you come on his cock?"

"Dozens!"

'How many times did you rob him of his seed?"

"Dozens!"

"This innocent boy who is young enough to be your son!"

"So young!" I cried remembering Jamal's hot young bbc deep inside me.

"He was innocent and you led him into sin didn't you slut!"

"Yes!" I cried, my hips out of control.

"Confess it slut! Confess that you're a whore!"

"I confess! I confess! I'm a whore! I'm a whore! Aieeeeee!" I cried as I came.

My whole body trembled and quivered. I went limp. When he let go of my throat I collapsed to him my head under his chin, my soft breasts flattening against his massive warm chest. Hot fluid coursed through my body. My cunt pulsed in pleasure against his long thick hot African cock, loving the way it filled me and pressed against my deepest most sensitive area.

++++++++++

I'm a beach cougar who beds young men. Normally I wouldn't bother with anyone over thirty let alone seventy. But I had had him thirty years before. I knew he was big. I had to have him again if only out of curiosity. The moment Jamal told me who his grandfather was I began making plans to bed him again. I wasn't sure how to make it happen. Turned out I didn't need to. He had come to me. Now I was impaled on him.

Older and fatter he was still a specimen. He held my panting body until I recovered.

"You're safe now," he said. "I saved you. But God has given me a word: only my seed will redeem you."

"Yes," I whimpered, my body like jelly in his arms.

"I'm no longer speaking as me," he said. "I'm speaking as God. My voice is His voice. He has given me the authority to redeem you, Sandy. He speaks through me. Do you understand?"

I nodded weakly, loving his game even if he really believed it, which I think he did. Arrogant millionaire athletic superstar who thought he was a god.

If you agree say, "Yes, Lord."

"Yes, Lord."

With that he pushed me down on my back on the couch without uncoupling, propped himself up on his large muscled arms, arched his back and began pumping his huge African spear in and out of me. I wrapped legs around him.

"Oh Lord," I said. "Fuck me! Fuck me!"

"Yes, child," he grunted with exertion. "I am the Lord (unh) your God (unh) and my seed (unh) will redeem (unh) your sinful (unh) nature (unh)."

My fingers held his muscled upper arms my mouth open moaning to each powerful thrust. His eyes weren't on mine. They focused with laser intensity on my big tits. Each drive of his pelvis hitting my body made them jiggle in ways his eyes could not ignore.