My Slutty Redhead Granny

Sally's pointy pink nipples are so cute, and I love the pink whip marks that cover the rest of her pale milky lightly freckled tits. I wish I could squeeze those big boobies, spank that heart-shaped ass, and slam my dick up that slutty ginger slit. I growl with perverted desire while masturbating with my usual manly aggressiveness, compensating for my lack of manliness in any other department. Jacking off at a hundred miles an hour, like a Hell's Angel motorpsycho.

"Hey Jake, I was wondering if you---"

Dolores stops dead in her tracks on the threshold of her bedroom, seeing her grandson spanking his monkey like hell to her kinky photo spread from half a century ago. Oh my fucking god. Her jaw drops open just as wide, and her green eyes dart up and down from my dick to the magazine to my face. Her shocked expression soon melts into sweet giggling.

"Sorry, Jakey. Shoulda knocked. That's my favorite issue of Taskmaster."

She giggles again, and heads back downstairs while whistling the melody of "Marrakesh Express'' by Crosby, Stills, and Nash. I keep standing there in mortified autoeroticus interruptus, wondering how the hell I can have a normal conversation with my grandmother after this, only five hours into my five-day visit. I definitely don't feel like finishing the job, so I shove my shriveling man-snake back into its cotton cage, and go down the hall to her bathroom. Sexual stimulation always fills my bladder real quick. I sit down on the toilet and let it rip, gazing upward through a small window at a crescent moon over the distant Hollywood hills. Loud hip-hop emanates from a house party down the block in the heart of Pasadena. Every other teenager in greater Los Angeles is living it up on a friday night, while I'm stuck here reading medieval fantasy novels and yanking my crank to pictures of my goddamn granny. I'm a weirdo loser with a capital L.

I flush the toilet and step back out the hall, trying to flush that Taskmaster incident out of my mind.

"Hey Jake, why don't you come down here for a while?" Dolores calls upward from the living room. "There's something interesting I want to show you, honey."

Her sultry tone suggests that it's something related to the "literature" that she caught me "reading." Another XXX artifact? I go down the steps rather nervously, wondering how strange my spring stay-cation will get. I turn right at a landing on the staircase, and my jaw drops wide open in shock. Dolores is standing near her favorite orange recliner, wearing nothing but a smile. Naked as fuck, in all her wrinkled GILF glory.

"Oh shit," I gasp with my heart suddenly pounding.

"It's okay, honey. I love being naked, and I know you love it too."

"Oh... uh... wow."

She grins from ear to ear, with her hands splayed on her wide child-bearing hips. I notice that her TV is now turned off.

"You're eighteen now, and you obviously love women, so... let's have a little nudist retreat during your spring break. You've already learned a lot about sex from the internet and your health classes at school, but I can give you an insider perspective from an ex-porn star."

"Oh... uh... damn."

"It'll be good for your self-esteem, and it'll give you some inspiration for your writing."

Her pale milky tits are still heavenly, and the extra cellulite on her thighs only enhances her drop-dead gorgeousness. That spicy ginger is aging like a fine red wine.

"Sounds like good perverted fun, granny," I utter subconsciously, biting my tongue immediately.

"That's the spirit. You need to get your nose out of the books for a while, and have some fun. Take off all your clothes, and we'll watch one of my old unreleased film reels."

I go into frazzled auto-pilot mode, slowly removing my shorts and t-shirt. Holy shit, I can't believe this is happening. I've often fantasized about fucking my hot grandmother, but I never envisioned a scenario in which I'd actually see her in the buff, right before my very eyes, except by accident for a few fleeting seconds. I take off my tighty whities to complete the nudity, sighing in disbelief and willing myself not to get another erection. Just being naked with her doesn't count as incest, and I doubt she's crazy enough to want my teen cock in her ancient dried-up snatch.

"Good boy!" she beams. "You have a nice body."

"Thanks. I've been working out at the gym, purging my teenage angst."

"And checking out some cute housewives," she remarks.

I saunter nervously into her living room, and she gives my pecker a good look while tossing her lustrous hair. A natural redhead without a single white strand mixed in, unlike 99.99% of women her age. Lucky as fuck.

"Just relax on the couch while I load the film into the projector."

I park my bare ass on an orange sofa that eerily resembles the one in Central Perk on Friends. She goes to a closet and digs out an old 1970's movie projector and a box full of 16 millimeter film reels. She sets up the projector and a portable screen in the living room and winds one of the reels into the antiquated machine.

"This is a private BDSM session I filmed with Conan at our old house near Venice Beach, about a year before we got married. We showed it to some of our porn star friends at a New Year's Eve party, but then I retired from that tough business, and we never saw it again. The camera didn't have a microphone attached, so you won't hear any of our witty kinky dialogue."

"I usually watch porn with the volume muted. All that moaning and groaning drives me insane after a while."

"Tell that to all those crazy tennis bitches."

She sets up a portable white projection screen in front of the TV, turns off the living room lights, and turns on the projector. A grainy silent home movie flickers to life. My 29 year-old grandmother is standing in the nude next to a shelf full of ancient fertility symbols. Sally Strapper / Dolores Flanagan smiles seductively and tosses her flaming red bangs. The picture quality is about as good as the Zapruder film of the JFK assassination, so her hot body is somewhat blurry. Old Dolores sits right next to me on the sofa, with her wrinkly hips pressing warmly against my young firm hips. Holy shit, holy shit. Play it cool, man. She's one of those freaky chicks who grew up in the height of the hippie era, so try to keep an open mind. Make love, not war, and all that jazz.

"Conan brought those buddhist fertility symbols back from Vietnam," Dolores explains while lighting up another cigarette. "They're good conversation starters, to get women 'in the mood.'"

My thirty-something grandfather enters the picture; a tall dark ruggedly handsome dude with a humongous penis. Go big or go home; that was obviously her mantra. Conan kisses her tenderly on the lips, then he smacks her cheeks playfully with both hands. Young Dolores grins submissively and grabs his long hard dong, but he bats her hand away and says something sternly while wagging his index finger.

"Ah-ah, hands off, my kinky kitten," Old Dolores giggles. "He loved calling me that."

The scene shifts to a dungeon room in that Venice Beach house, with various bondage platforms, a big shelf loaded with kinky toys, and ropes and chains dangling from the ceiling. Conan drags Young Dolores into the dungeon by a leather leash that's now fastened to a spiked leather dog collar around her neck. He barks out an order while pointing toward a barrel-shaped bondage platform. The smoky haze from my grandmother's cigarette makes this film seem even more vintage. Almost like we're at the old Holly-Wood Porno Palace on Sunset Boulevard. That place closed for good in 1990, before the internet was even "a thing."

Young Dolores wraps her body face-up around the circular boards, curving her spine into an alluring yogic position. Conan fastens her wrists and ankles to metal rings along the edges of the platform with leather cuffs.

"That barrel platform was my favorite," says Old Dolores. Arousal is quite evident in her voice; getting turned on by grainy blurry images of her twenty-something body.

"Bending over backwards has a good energizing effect," I reply distantly. Conan grabs a red bullwhip from a shelf and waves it through the air above his bound naked girlfriend, making her wince and whimper inaudibly.

"He was such a teasing dominator," she muses. "I love guys who are good at building up tension, keeping me on edge."

"I need to build up more tension in my writing," I mutter.

"You should try writing some porn. Lonely guys like you are usually good at that," she remarks sweetly. She strokes my hairy right forearm tenderly, and my dick gets even harder. God damn, god damn.

Conan the Barbarian finally lowers the boom, whipping her big tits nice and hard. Her mouth opens to emit a silent moan. Old Dolores shudders slightly with the vicarious impact. He whips her five more times on each breast, making her entire body squirm in that tightly stretched position.

"That's so fucking hot," I murmur subconsciously. "My parents won't even let me watch Law and Order: SVU."

"Your parents aren't nearly as puritan as they claim to be. They humped each other like rabbits before they were married. I mean literally, like rabbits. They got arrested for public sex about ten times."

"Wow, wow, wow. I'm gonna learn a lot this week."

Conan grabs a tall white candle from a silver candelabra, then he lights up the wick with a match and flicks hot wax all over my young grandmother's breasts, driving her even crazier.

"Well, well. You may be a virgin, but there's obviously nothing wrong with your downstairs soldier," Old Dolores remarks, pointing at my tall proud penis. The tips glistens with precum, reflecting the flickering light from the projector.

"Oh god, that's so embarrassing."

"There's nothing embarrassing about getting a hard-on. You have to love your own body before you can love anyone else's."

"Sage advice from my GILF granny," I reply sarcastically.

Conan flicks more wax right on her fire crotch, sending her to a masochistic cloud nine. The scene shifts to a mod-styled bedroom in that same house. His girlfriend is lying face-up on a king-size bed, still naked, covered with dried wax and whip marks, with her wrists tied to the metal bars on the headboard. He climbs onto the mattress, making literal waves. Waterbeds were all the rage back then. My grandfather spreads her legs and pushes them way back toward the headboard. He grabs two pairs of handcuffs next to her pillow, and uses them to bind her wrists and ankles to the metal bars behind her head, locking her lithe body in a tight ball of pale white flesh and red hair.

"Brace yourself, Jakey. This sex scene is pretty rough."

"I've seen plenty of rough sex scenes from your career, and other 'careers.'"

"Yeah, but this is more... personal."

She sighs wearily and grabs my right hand. This is clearly her unconventional way of dealing with lingering grief toward her late husband. Self-medication, recapturing a bit of her lost youth by getting her grandson naked and showing him this dirty private artifact.

Conan hawks a big loogie right onto her wet cunt, and smears it around with his fingers. He glides the tip of his big dick around her outer labia, teasing that spit-soaked twat for a few moments. Then he slams it all the way in with a powerful opening thrust, sending literal shockwaves through her body and making her scream silently. Old Dolores moans in a softer response. He keeps pounding the fucking shit out of that redhead skank. Slamming her body into the waterbed while spanking her ass hard with both hands in a rapid blur. The mattress convulses like the gulf of Mexico in a hurricane. I try like hell to resist the temptation to jack my johnson. I'm good at reading lips, but I can tell exactly what "Sally Strapper" is screaming: "Fuck yeah, baby!" "Spank me harder!" "Pound my fucking pussy!"

Conan wraps his big hands around her slender neck and fucks her even harder and faster, bouncing her balled-up body toward the metal headboard with relentless fury. He pauses for a moment, jams several fingers into her mouth, stretches out her lips, and hawks a loogie right down her throat. He goes right back to pussy-pounding, and Old Dolores clutches my hand a bit tighter amid the onslaught. This is the most intense voyeuristic experience I've ever had. I've seen lots of wild bondage porn on the net... but my granny is right. This is a lot more personal, and a lot hotter. A private emotional connection amplifies the kinkiness to the max.

"It's hard to believe this guy was an insurance adjuster," I murmur awkwardly.

"Never judge a book by its cover," she murmurs back.

Conan spits all over her face and cunt, spanks her cheeks a dozen more times, and spanks her ass cheeks even more. He finally pulls his dick out of her twat, shuffles up toward her face, and shoots a thick wad into her open mouth. Old Dolores moans softly, squeezing my hand tighter. Young Dolores plays with his splooge for a minute, flicking it all around with her tongue and blowing disgusting cum bubbles. She swallows it with a sweet grin, and says something to Conan while still in bondage, but I can't make the words out. The home movie ends abruptly in mid-sentence, leaving nothing but a blank white square on the projection screen, with the 44 year-old film reel flapping freely against the vintage projector.

"God damn, what a ride," I murmur dreamily.

"That's exactly what I told him, so many times," granny murmurs nostalgically. She gets up slowly and winds the reel back into the metal canister. Her naked GILF body looks even better in the artistic illumination from the projector in her darkened living room. Like one of those pretentious Marc Dorcel euro-porn flicks from the "golden age."

"Have you dated anyone else since Conan... passed on?"

"I sure haven't. No dates, no random quickies, no sex whatsoever. I've just been swimming through lots of wild memories for the past two years. You're the first naked man I've seen since he died." She sighs wearily and leans against an orange recliner. "You must think I'm crazy as a coot."

"Not at all, granny. I'm glad to help you move on. Whatever it takes to start a new chapter."

"Much obliged, honey." she utters sweetly. She tosses her red hair and saunters toward me with a seductive gait, radiating celtic feminine mystique. "Now then, Master Flanagan... shall we proceed to the dungeon?"

Holy shit. My heart starts hammering again. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Come on, I want to show you our old kinky toys. I caught you jerking off to my pictures from 1001 S&M Nights, so don't act like a fucking prude."

"Fine, whatever," I chortle while getting off her couch. "A little more 'educational' fun."

She takes me by the hand and leads me through the dining room, through the back den, and down her basement stairway. I better make the most out of this week-long "nudist retreat." It'll be a lot more interesting than those Sex Ed classes with Susan Pavetto, who goes by the pronouns Xe/Xem and has a big CRUSH THE PATRIARCHY! poster in room 227 of Pasadena High.

My family never let me go down to this basement when I was a kid, claiming that it was full of rats. That was a big lie to shield an impressionable child from the disturbing S&M truth. Dolores takes me on a winding path through dozens and dozens of boxes and shelves. I don't see anything remotely naughty. Just the usual "I might use it later" crap that piles up in millions of basements.

She pauses in front of a locked door to a separate room that fills about a quarter of the large basement. It clearly wasn't part of the original design for the 1950's ranch-style house. She grabs a key from a nearby shoebox, turns the deadbolt lock, and opens the door with theatrical flair.

"Welcome to my gothic dungeon, Master Flanagan."

"Abandon hope, all ye who enter."

My sarcastic quote from Dante's Inferno goes right over her high school dropout head. She flips a light switch on the wall, revealing a wide array of BDSM equipment in four twenty foot-long aisles. A lot of the same things I just saw in that 16mm home movie, along with lots of stuff I haven't seen before, like a big X-shaped bondage platform and a medieval pillory stockade. Contrary to her description, there's no gothic decorations here. Just plain white walls and a shitload of taboo merchandise from various L.A. sex shops.

"Oh my god, this is fucking awesome," I beam, unable to contain my pervy teenage enthusiasm. "You've been looking forward to showing me this kinky crap for a long time, haven't ya?"

"Hell yeah, Jakey," she beams while stroking the leather straps that dangle from her favorite barrel-shaped platform. "You're an only child, so you got my undivided obsession."

"Thanks for turning me into a spoiled bratty incel," I snicker while batting the heavy chains that dangle from a steel suspension bondage rack.

"You're very welcome, sweetie." She tosses her hair once again, and saunters toward me with that same seductive gait, wobbling her wide hips. "I've done so much for you over the years, but you're all grown up now... and I want you to do something for me."

"Like what?"

She goes over to a shelf and grabs a length of manila rope. "Tie me up and whip the shit out of me. Just like all those videos you've been watching."

Whoa-whoa-whoa. My heart beats like a jackhammer, and my cheeks turn red. My rational brain urges me to back away, but my limbic brain urges me to proceed.

"You gotta be fucking kidding, grandma. You want me to pick up where your freaky husband left off?"

"I know you want to, honey," she coos while batting those sexy green fairy eyes. "You probably won't see another dungeon like this ever again. Are you really gonna pass up a chance to make your wildest kinky dreams come true, no matter who your sub happens to be?"

"Well... I just... I just..."

"Come on, you handsome devil. I know you're gonna whoop some whiny 'woke' chicks at the Iowa Writers Workshop, so let me teach you how to do it right."

My dark desire soon overpowers my feeble resistance. "God damn, you're good, Dolores. You really know how to melt a guy like butter."

"I learned from the best, sonny-boy."

She turns around and wiggles her wrinkly heart-shaped ass at me while waving the rope against it.

"I've been a real naughty girl, Master Flanagan," she coos girlishly. "You better punish me real good."

Holy fuck, holy fuck. This is by far the freakiest thing I've ever done. Just go with the flow, and see where the night leads us. A perverted thrill washes over me, seizing total control. Getting into my usual misogynistic dominator character from my frequent masturbatory fantasies.

"All right, you crazy old bag. I'm giving you the trouble you deserve. I'm gonna make you my senior bitch."

I grab the rope and bind her wrists together against her ass cheeks, loving the warm soft sensation of her pale freckled flesh.

"Good boy!" Dolores beams. She turns around and clears her throat. "But first things first. You should always agree on a safe word with your sub, so you'll know when to stop and let her recover."

"How about... Faust?"

"Faust? Like the opera that Christine Daae was starring in?"

"Bingo, bitch. I'm the phantom of the opera, and you're my willing slave."

She giggles playfully, wiggling her hips once again. Her ginger pussy literally drips with anticipation. She clearly doesn't have a problem with "dryness," like many other septuagenarians.

"Naughty granny, getting all wet just thinking about getting pussywhipped by your fucking grandson."

"Fuck yeah, I need this so bad. Keep talking dirty and macho, just like that. It keeps you focused, and keeps your sub on her heels."