Nana G Changes My Life

A SPRING DAY

The phone call came one Saturday morning. "Hello? Junior? Its Nana G. How are you, dear?" If anybody had been around, they would have read the surprise on my face. I'd not heard much from my father's mother for several years now. Christmas cards and birthday cards, that's about it. But I was happy for the call. I loved Nana G growing up. Always very sweet to me.

Small talk now - the usual things - college? job? girlfriend? life? happy? No. Yes. Not lately. Good. Yes. This went on some minutes - nothing significant - then: "Tell me about your town? It's nice, isn't it? Things to do?" Where is this headed?

Well, turns out my grandmother is moving down to my city. Like so many others, she wants to retire to a warmer climate, lower cost of living. I was happy about that for her. Moving south is a great idea. I tell her so. But coming to live in my town, though? I guess its good to have family close by in case of emergency. "That's nice." I say. "Wanting to buy a place?  Good. What's that? You need a place to stay while looking for a house? Um. Wait...."

A FEW WEEKS LATER:

She drives up to my apartment right on schedule. I admit I was a bit apprehensive. I'd not seen Nana G since my freshman year of high school. That year, my 13th year, was a very trying time. My parents divorced. My grandparents divorced. A JV shoulder injury ended my football career before it really even started.

I have a simple dinner ready. I figure we can eat while we chat. Maybe that will ease the awkwardness.

She steps out of her pickup and comes slowly up the walk, checking the building numbers to find the right apartment. To be helpful, I walk out to meet her. She is early- or mid-sixties, by my rough calculation. I don't dare ask. Her hair is ombré; I think that's a little odd for someone her age, and I wondered how long she'd been treating it that way, since that style has essentially come and gone. But it looked nice on her. Her face, there were certainly 'worry lines' and 'crows feet', but also 'smile lines'. I hope she's had more smile in her life than worry, but somehow I doubt it. Does she look much different from the last I saw her? Age in her face, but really that's about it. I remember her eyes and her smile most distinctly. Those haven't changed.. Her smile, still broad and unreserved; charming and disarming. Her eyes though - they have a spark. A wild and playful spark that I don't remember. Or that I was too young and naive to interpret. I feel myself drawn by that spark.

Her body - incredibly, that hasn't changed either. As best I remember, she was always fit. But with me having grown, what 12-year-old me saw as fit, 24-year-old me sees as downright sexy. She's tight, trim, unblemished. The dress she's wearing is snug and supporting around her pert bosom, narrow and sculpted through the lean waist, accentuated at the hips, loose and light and flowing about her legs. No denying, she has NICE legs.

WHOA! WHAT am I thinking?? This is my grandmother.  Nana G, that used give me popsicles and read me books and sing me to sleep. That helped me with my homework in elementary and middle school.

We greet each other with a big hug and a small kiss. She feels so light. I send her on in - "bathroom is the second door on the right" - while I get the first of her luggage.

She's not the dowdy sort. Never had been. I don't know why I had expected it now. But her figure was very easy on the eyes. And the few flashes of skin I saw did not look 60+.

I am happy to have this visit. More than happy, I am intrigued. After dinner she wants to walk through the neighborhood. Weather is nice, and enough time before dark to make the loop, so we do. Arriving back, I ask "Do you have more luggage?"

"Oh, a couple small things. Thank you for carrying in the heavies."

We grab the small things.

Showing her through the apartment, she's pleased that I live neatly. "Not like most bachelors", she says. She has her choice of bedrooms, as both of my roommates moved out after their graduation. She picks the one with its own bathroom - logical. We chat a little more and each have a small drink before turning in. She's had a long drive and would prefer to talk more in the morning.

A FEW WEEKS LATER:

I spend my days at work. Nana G spends her days househunting. We take time to eat together every evening and chat. Discuss our accomplishments of the day. We take the weekends and explore the area. The weather is getting warmer and like every other girl around, she's wearing less and less clothing. Today it's black short shorts with white trim and a halter top. Surely she dresses more professionally when she meets her realtor. Or tours a house. But I must say I'm impressed. She indeed has the body to carry it off. I'm impressed, mesmerized, appreciative, and just a little self-conscious. This is my Nana G that I'm leering at lustfully! What is wrong with me?

She's now moved to the other vacant bedroom. The first didn't suit her and she's not terribly satisfied with this one either. Other than this aspect, she's been very agreeable. She approaches me one morning with a suggestion.

"I know I must seem ungrateful. I just can't get comfortable in either of those beds."

"What do you suggest then? I can get a new mattress."

"That's sweet of you, but too much expense."

"You could take it with you when you get your house. Do you like a firm or a soft mattress?"

"I don't know about firm or soft. I guess I don't really have a preference. But I do like a high bed. High like a kitchen counter." She leans over, as in demonstration, bending 90° at the waist, and shimmying her ass side to side. She giggles.

That giggle and wiggle broke something in my brain. And absolutely destroyed my willpower. No sense lying to myself now - she was uncommonly sexy and I wanted her. Age? Relation? Didn't matter. But how do you cross that line? And would she think I was disgusting if I tried?

It takes a while, but we wrangle the mattress and box spring from the one bedroom into the en suite bedroom, and layer them with that mattress and box spring set. Surely this was high enough.

"What do you think? Will this do?"

"Yes. Thank you. I'm sorry for the trouble."

"Its fine. Anything for you, Nana G. I'm going to go shower now. You still want to go out to the state park?"

"Yes. I'll shower too. Won't take me long."

I turn to leave.

I hear rather than see her jump onto the bed.

At the door, I turn about.

.

She is atop the high bed, sunk down in the soft mattress, stretching all her limbs, revealing a stunning amount of leg and her halter top barely holding its place.

I just stare at her 'X' body on the bed.

Making eye contact with me, she giggles again and twists her wrists and ankles all about. She giggles more as my eyes rake her from head to toe then halfway back, settling on her trim, firm, pale thigh. I am agog. Am I blushing? I back out of the room.

Cold shower. I need a cold shower.

I'm in the shower about two minutes when the water pressure lags then surges. She's now in the other shower. On the other side of this wall, Nana G is naked and bathing too. Is she rubbing herself? Like I'm rubbing myself? I do something I haven't done since I was a teenager - I jerk off. This is unreal. Thoughts of fucking my own grandmother have stirred me up to the point of jerking off. I can't get over the change; she looks the same, it's not a change in her looks. More that I'm picking up on her playfulness; a different kind of playfulness than I ever saw before. Damn, she's hot.

ONE SATURDAY MORNING, A WEEK OR SO LATER:

Nana G rises first, as usual, at the first rays of dawn. I wake later, at the scent of eggs and bacon. I lay in bed just long enough for the morning wood to go away, then I amble into the kitchen, wearing my usual 'pyjamas', a t-shirt and shorts. Immediately I stop short. Am I seeing right? Nana G is working about the kitchen, wearing a wicked night gown; solid black, cut way down, slit way up. Not her typical pajama shorts (although those were sexy enough).

The side slit, in fact, is to above the hip. All the way to the waist. When she twirls (and she twirls a lot) she flashs her leg, her hip, her cheek, her butt up to the waist. All beautifully firm, smooth and sleek. No panties - definitely no panties. Though a high riding g-string is still a possibility.

My cock is hardening. I can't help it. And I can't take my eyes off her. I hasten to the table and sit, to hide my stiffening cock. Had she seen? Just in my passing? She casts back a Cheshire grin, cuts her eyes to and away, then nearly bends herself double to place a spoon into the lower dishwasher rack. While this move doesn't gap her gown, it does pull it rather taut, showing off the curve and firmness of her ass.

She comes back up with a question.

"Do you like eggs?"

I croak out: "Yes. Absolutely."

She scoops some onto a saucer and glides over to the table. Reaching across the table to serve the saucer in front of me, her gown droops at the breast. I caught a quick but thorough flash of pert tit. As I try hard to stare at the saucer, she continues on to my side of the table. She stops, standing beside me, expectantly. I turned to face her. "Thanks for fixing breakfast. I very much like your cooking."

"Do you like my tits too?" And she pulls one out!

My eyes must have become as big as the saucer, because she laughs as she caresses her own breast, and tweeks her own nipple, and sidles up, putting her breast very near my face.

I am stunned. Paralyzed. But that quickly wears off. I am mesmerized by the youthful breast dancing less than a foot from my face. I slowly but firmly wrap my arms around her waist and pull her toward me, and kiss, then lick, then suck the delicious nipple. She coos and writhes; a bit of an exaggerated response, but OK. I keep working the tit, which is now fully tensed.

I stop suddenly and look up to her face. She smiles. "That feels so good!"

I am frozen.

"What's the matter?"

"You're my grandmother!"

"So what? We're both horny."

She steps forward to straddle me, but the gown is too tight at the hips. She steps back, hikes it up, then steps forward again to successfully mount my lap. Definitely no g-string. Her hairless pussy is on the prowl and on display.

In disbelief, I repeat " You're my grandmother."

"YES. And I'm pulling rank on you, Junior." She puts her hands to my cheeks and turns my head, to force steady eye contact. "Put it in me."

I stammer something unintelligible.

She continues. "You obviously want to. I can see that bulge even without my glasses. Still straddling my lap, she lowers herself, her hands clasped around behind my neck for balance. She nods toward my shorts, whispers "Pull it out of there."

Trembling, I fumble with my shorts and pull my hardened cock out. I can't believe I'm actually doing this.

She looks down at my cock. "You're thick." And she smiles. Then back to my eyes. "This is going to feel fabulous. For both of us."

"I'm not sure ..."

"... how to do this? Its OK; I'll coach you."

"I KNOW how to do this! That's not what I meant."

"What then? You're not sure that you want me? That hard thing there says that you do. Not sure it's right to fuck your own grandma? That hard thing there don't care. It just wants INSIDE."

She shimmies around on my lap, then grinds down on me.

"I'm already lubed, Junior. Put it in me."

What could I do, but oblige. She hoists herself up just a tad as I start to maneuver my cock into position. My cockhead finds the wetness of the lube. I work my tip just barely inside, just enough to feel the warmth. We both pause, lock eyes, and smile. "Here we go, Junior" she half-whispers.  "The point of no return." And she starts slowly bouncing her body up and down onto my shaft. Each downward push takes me a little deeper than before. And she does indeed feel fabulous. Slick but tight. Very tight. This only passes for a minute, then she stops abruptly. She whispers  "Let's continue this in my room. I bet I know something you've never done..."

Arms out straight and tied down at the wrists, she makes a fine letter "T". She prefers her legs free, as that gives her some small role in controlling the depth of penetration. But arms tied down ensures her vulnerability.  In her experience, men generally respond to that vulnerability by primal dominance. Aggressiveness, but not in a bad sense. "I like to be dominated by my man" is what she'd said.

On my knees, I straddle her waist, my cock at full attention and wagging like a dogs tail. "You gonna put all that inside my little cunt? I don't think it will fit."  She gives a wink and her legs stir about.

"I think it will damn sure have to fit." Plucking one of the neck ties like a guitar string. You don't rightly have a choice." I massage her pert tits, lightly teasing the nipples into points.

She flashes her Cheshire grin, squirms her hips, and giggles. The game is on.

Her bedside table holds a bottle of lube. I reach for it, get it. She watches eagerly as I slick myself up, dripping just a mite between her tits. Then dabbing a single drop on the tip of her nose.

I scoot down to where I now straddle her hips. My mouth works her tits. Her left, then right, then left again. All the while, my cock presses hard upon her mound. She writhes, smearing her belly above her mound with lube from my cock. She's vocal, expressive, responsive, EAGER.

Enough maneuvering. Now I'm ready to take charge. Using my legs to push aparr her legs, I position my cockhead at her opening. I make a small but firm push. I'm in. Slowly I retract and push again. Slowly retract and push. Spurred on by her sighs and coos. "Oh!OH!"

A minute or so later, I am buried to the root inside my own grandmother. I am 6 inches deep inside my own grandmother. She feels so incredible. Is her cunt actually squeezing me?

We kiss. Then I shift from slow pushes to forceful plunges. After about the third or fourth plunge, she wraps her legs tightly around behind my knees. Holding on for a rough ride. With her legs she pulls at me to thrust deeper.

She whispers. "Come down. I want to feel your weight." I let my weight descend, putting pressure on her hips and stomach.

Her hip makes a popping sound.

Startled and concerned, I pull out. I stay above her but I support my own full weight. I don't know what to say.

She quickly wraps her legs tighter, higher., while pleading "It's nothing. My hip just pops sometimes."

I still say nothing. I just look on. And deflate.

Her face takes an odd expressionand she averts her gaze. "I'm OLD..."

Old? I scan her incredible body. Technically true, but man, in shape and tone and hue, a body ladies half her age would envy.  "You are NOT old. You're joint pops, so what. I have a shoulder that pops sometimes."

We are both quiet for a long moment.

"You don't think I'm old?" She looks at me sensitively.

"I think you're beautiful." I reply honestly.

"You think I'm sturdy enough to take a hot stud's pounding?" She strains her bound arms against the neckties. She coaxing again... she grins at me sidewise.

"I expect so."

She rolls her belly muscles vertically to caress my cock. I've never felt THAT before! (turns out it's a naughty application of a traditional belly-dancing move) A few more rolls and she's charmed me back to full stiffness.

"Then don't give up, Junior..... you've almost won the prize." (Cheshire grin)

I reposition myself for penetration.

"And you can cum inside me. It's a perk of being postmenopause."

Slowly I begin again. I work my way in deep.

After a few minutes of straight fucking, those squeezes begin again. Those squeezes are driving me mad!  I can't stay slow. I arch my back, and straining my back muscles I raise my weight back off her. Then my hands go to the bends of her straight-bound arms. Grasping the bends of her elbows, I both brace my weight there and press her upper body down too. Pressing hard. I am pounding again now in animal fashion, lacking any sort of rhythm.  She tries to move her captive arms, but I do not relent. Her coos and squeezes demand still more. Absolutely primal. My thrusts are now putting major pressure on her clit and she is dizzy as she nears climax. I let out an animal grunt and hold pressure deep. She drops her legs and goea totally limp. The only muscles she moves now are vaginal. Kegels. One last thrust...

I hold.

She Kegels.

I erupt.

She bucks.

Euphoric and exhausted, I slowly collapse my weight upon her. After a few minutes, each catching our breath, I untie her and we sleep til noon.

Every night now we sleep naked on her high bed. Next morning we cook and eat breakfast naked. We resolve that inside the apartment we will spare the clothing.

THAT AFTERNOON

In the kitchen again.

I snug up behind her and start conversation. "That... was... unbelievable. "

"Well!" She says with a smile. "I had a lot of energy to release. I've not had sex in a long time. Three years plus."

"Really?? You're so sexy. I find that hard to believe."

"Just because I'm enthusiastic during, doesn't mean I'm going to let just anybody inside."

"That is NOT what I meant!"

"I know. I just want to clarify, that's all."

"You certainly are a phenomenal lover."

She smiles. I continue. "I've fucked a few girls and I thought I knew the game but you absolutely blow my mind.

"Maybe another time, I'll blow your cock."

"I would love that. Oral sex has always been my favorite."

She laughs. Why does she laugh?

"What? You don't do oral sex?"

"Of course I do. I love giving blowjobs. I just think 'oral sex' is a funny term."

"Why so?"

"Because it's NOT sex."

"You're getting pretty intimate with some guy's cock,... you don't call that sex?"

"I call it 'keepin' the boys happy'."

"Blowjobs ARE sex."

"No. Not for me. I mean, what do I get out of it? Meat in my cunt? No. Do I get to cum? No."

"That's... a bizarre way of looking at it."

"I don't think so at all. I've given head to lots of men. None of that registers as sex."

I'm bewildered. "But..."

"Does that surprise you? Your Nana G likes to suck off random men?"

"Um. Yes."

"Its a hobby. That's all. I consider myself a collector of sorts."

"Collecting cum??"

"Collecting men. But if you want to be crude and say it that way, I guess its accurate.  I've sucked off a man in Ireland, and one in Scotland, one in Iceland, one in Hawaii. One from Tanzania. One...."

"Enough! Enough. So you're saying those weren't sex?"

"Of course not. Just something to do. Just sampling the flavors of the world, so to speak. Some people do that with foods or teas or..."

"So by your own unique definition, you never had sex with any of those men?

"Well, hardly ever. I mean, if there were a few times I started a blowjob and the man got carried away and TOOK me, (Cheshire grin), that's hardly my fault."

Unbelievable, I thought, My Nana G.

"Was that the cause of your divorce?"

Suddenly her manner hardened. She crossed her arms across her chest and looked away.

"Do we have to talk about that?"

"No judgement. I'm curious. That's all."

She looked bemused.

I waited her out.

"Both divorces."

"Both divorces? You've only been divorced once that I know of."

"Once."

"Then what's the other?? Who was the other? One of the men who took you?"

Making eye contact, she glared at me defiantly. "Yes".

"Look. I'm sorry. It's nothing to me. I'm sure it's nobody I even know..."

"Your father."

"What? Um. What?!?"

"Your father. My own son. My divorce. His divorce. Both of them hurting you." Her eyes were suddenly watery.

She waves her hand across her face and takes a few quick breaths. I switch back to the early part of the conversation, before I had turned it awkward. "So... if you give blowjobs to random guys but don't let them in your pussy, you consider that as being faithful?"