Nana's Place

Chapter 01

Seventy-year-old Jane Markey was looking forward to her family's visit. The old farm was remote and lonely since her husband died a few years ago. Her nearest neighbor and long-time friend, Helen Crump, also a widow, was two miles down the blacktop.

She was particularly interested in seeing her grandson, Ed. His eighteenth birthday was last week, and she had a surprise for him and, by extension, the rest of her family.

To prevent her family from seizing her farm, her attorneys placed it in trust for Ed. The trust would pay for his college education and provide a small income. It would pass from him to his children and grandchildren, preventing his parents from squandering it.

She stood in the doorway as the old minivan pulled down the gravel driveway. She watched her son, Claude, his wife, Emma, and her grandson, Ed, pile out of the van.

"Momma! How are you?"

While embracing his mother, Claude surveyed the 1000-acre expanse of the farm. The trip had an ulterior motive. He needed to convince her to sell the farm. His financial situation was desperate. Bad investments aggravated by an inept strategy had him near bankruptcy.

"Fine, son! Just fine!"

Jane eyed her daughter-in-law Emma over his shoulder. After 20 years of marriage, their relationship was like the situation on the Korean Peninsula. It was an uneasy truce punctuated by outbreaks of limited hostility.

"Jane! It's so good to see you!"

The greeting was as insincere as the air kisses they exchanged. Emma Markey was jealous of her mother-in-law's hold on her husband. The old bitch kept him and, by extension, her, tied to her by her Scrooge-like doling of the income from the very successful farm.

"Ed! Come here, boy. My, how you've grown!"

Jane hugged the truculent teenager. He reminded her of her deceased Tom. The lump she felt pressed against her thigh said he was also well-endowed like her late husband.

"Hi, Nana!"

Ed reluctantly accepted her embrace as her large breasts pressed into his chest. She smelled vaguely of lavender powder and vodka. Despite squirming in her embrace, he liked her. She was honest and open, unlike his parents.

"Come inside out of this heat! I have some iced tea. It was too hot to cook, so I ordered some snacks from the store in town. Oh! And Helen Crump, my neighbor, sent me a couple dozen homemade chocolate chip cookies!"

This batch of cookies was supposed to be regular cookies, not the usual THC-infused cookies that Helen made with her potent cannabis-infused butter. She cultivated and crossbred her cannabis plants. Over the years, she had developed a strain that was extremely high in THC, high enough to have an aphrodisiac effect.

Helen's cookies were renowned in the small farming community where she lived. Some of the farmers ascribed their large families to eating Helen's cookies.

Unfortunately, her 70-year-old friend, who was suffering from limited dementia, mistakenly sent the wrong cookies.

"We stopped on the road and had dinner. But the cookies sound yummy!"

The family sat around the hand-hewn oak table and chairs, which were of similar construction. Jane's deceased husband, Tom Markey, was handy around the house.

His son eyed the various pieces of oak furniture, estimating what they would bring in an estate sale.

Jane gazed at her family as they gorged on the spiked chocolate chip cookies. She ate a couple, then sipped her iced tea laced with vodka. They were a greedy bunch. She knew they were out to get her money and farm by any means necessary. She and her attorneys had made provisions to prevent them from declaring her incompetent and seizing her assets.

She hoped she could save her grandson from the influence of his parents. She planned to announce her plans to them on this trip.

Jane felt light-headed, like when she ate too many of Helen's marijuana-infused cookies. She had a horrible thought. Helen was getting a little senile. Had she...?

"You guys enjoy the cookies. I need to call my neighbor!"

The phone call confirmed her suspicions. Helen sent the wrong cookies!

Jane hurried back to the kitchen. She hoped to stop her family from eating too many cookies. Unlike the quick high from smoking marijuana, ingesting them caused a slower, longer-lasting high. And based on the farmers she shared the cookies with, they had a strong aphrodisiac effect.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Just fine!"

Claude's arm inscribed an arc as he semaphored it above his head. His eyes were overly bright and moist. One hand caressed his wife's bare thigh.

"Absolutely!"

Emma sat wide-leg with her full skirt pulled high on her thighs. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing a pink demi bra encasing small C cups. The heat, vodka-infused tea, and THC cookies had her feeling loose and horny.

That same combination caused her son, Ed, to have a silly grin on his face. His libido was also being affected. He was in his Oedipal phase and found himself hungrily eyeing his mother's cleavage. He was at that age where she occupied most of his sexual fantasies. Under the kitchen table, his hand was in his lap, stroking his cock through his jeans.

"OKAY," he exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly.

Jane was also under the influence of the mind-altering substances. However, she was a regular user and knew how to handle the effects. As usual, the combination made her horny.

Since her husband died, she has satisfied that itch with her fingers and/or her extensive collection of toys. Occasionally, she and Helen Crump scratched that itch together. However, her long-time friend and lover's arthritis was bad enough that they could only use toys or eat each other! No more tribbing!

She moistened her lips and eyed the massive bulge in her grandson's jeans.

The boy was hung like his grandfather. She wondered if he had his grandfather's sexual stamina. Tom Markey could do more things with a pussy than the romance novels she read could ever think of.

She and her girlfriend Helen down the road were thoroughly fucked by their husbands on those long Michigan winters. They would get naked and lie on the old bearskin rug in front of the roaring fireplace and fuck, switching partners and positions several times during the night. The four of them never considered themselves swingers; they were friends sharing each other.

After Helen's husband died, Tom Markey did yeoman duty, fucking her and Jane regularly. Not only could he hold off cumming until he wanted, he recovered quickly.

Tom's death a few years ago left the two septuagenarians in a constant state of arousal. Occasionally, they took one of the seasonal workers to their beds.

"You guys are probably tired from the drive. I've fixed up the guest room for you, Emma, and Claude. Why don't you lie down for a while?"

She hoped they would sleep off the effects of the marijuana-infused cookies without her having to confess to what they were. She knew they were looking for an excuse to declare her incompetent. Accidentally drugging them would be an ideal excuse.

"Sounds like a plan!"

Claude struggled to his feet, stumbled, and balanced himself on the back of the kitchen chair. When his concerned mother wrapped her arm around his waist to prevent him from falling, he uncharacteristically squeezed her bottom.

"You coming, Emma?"

"I'm not tired! I'm going to sit on the porch for a while."

Emma struggled to her feet and staggered through the kitchen to the screened-in porch. The porch faced the yard, with the country road off to one side and the fields to the other side. Several well-worn loungers were scattered about.

Jane, Helen, and their husbands used to indulge their exhibitionist streak here, fucking at night with the porch light on. The occasional horn blaring told them they had been seen.

Lately, Emma had been experiencing hot flashes, night sweats, and reduced sex drive associated with menopause. Her doctor had her stop using birth control and prescribed Hormone Replacement Therapy.

HRT worked, but one of the unexpected side effects was an increased sex drive. She and her husband used condoms to prevent an unwanted pregnancy on the few times a month that they had sex.

As Jane turned to her grandson, the phone rang. Her gaze scanned from her son staggering down the hall to the guest bedroom to Emma staggering out to the lounger on the porch.

As she picked up her cell phone, she noticed Ed eyeing his mother's ass as she lurched out of the kitchen.

"Helen, you didn't! Okay! Okay! I'll run down for a moment."

Helen had accidentally made two batches of marijuana-infused cookies! She gorged herself on the THC-infused cookies, thinking they were the regular ones. Now she was fucked up and needed help getting to bed.

Ed sat on the edge of the kitchen table, staring at his mother's ass as she stumbled out to the porch. Like most boys his age, he harbored repressed sexual fantasies about his mother. The cookies had reduced his normal inhibitions and increased his lust.

"Ed! Stop eating the cookies. They are marijuana-infused." Jane trusted her grandson and knew he wouldn't tell his parents.

Ed blinked owl-eyed at his Nana as he processed what she was saying. He smoked reefer and occasionally purchased gummies at the local dispensary. However, he had nothing as mind-altering as these homemade cookies.

"This is some primo shit, Nana!"

"Yes, Helen Crump, down the road, perfected a strain of plant with unusually high levels of THC."

Ed stood and embraced his grandmother, his hand dropping to cup her big floppy ass. He lifted the hem of her house dress and was surprised to discover she didn't have panties on

"Mmm! Commando! Nice, Nana!"

"No bra either! It's too hot!"

Ed ran a finger between his Nana's ass cheeks, probing her anus with his index finger.

"It's been years since anyone played with my starfish," Jane groaned. She pushed back, and the first joint of her grandson's finger slipped into her rectum.

Briefly, Jane allowed him to grope her, enjoying the young man fingering her anus. Her hand slipped between them, and she stroked his cock through his jeans. He was bigger than his grandfather!

Her grandson's free hand lifted the front of her dress, and he stroked her engorged labia.

Jane was surprised but delighted that her eighteen-year-old grandson was interested in her. However, she called a halt when he bent her over the kitchen table and lifted her dress. She had to get Helen, who was inebriated, to bed.

"Hold the thought," she said, reluctantly pushing him away.

"Aw, Nana," the aroused teenager groaned.

"You're the least fucked up! You keep an eye on your parents. I have to check on my friend Helen. And no more cookies!"

She wagged a liver-spotted finger in his face.

"Aww, Nana!"

"Aww, Nana, my fat ass! We've got a crisis to deal with."

She grasped his cock and squeezed it. "I'll deal with this later."

Jane watched her grandson eyeing his mother. Her eyes widened. She knew that one of the side effects of the marijuana strain was an aphrodisiac. The way her grandson was eyeing his mother concerned her. She shook her head and hurried out to her car.

Chapter 02

"You want some iced tea, mom?"

"Yes, please, dear! It's hot as a bitch out here."

Under the influence of the vodka-laced tea and the marijuana cookies, the usually repressed Emma had unbuttoned her blouse entirely. She lay on the lounger with her pink bra exposed. She flapped the blouse, trying to cool off. The porch seemed to be slowly rotating.

Ed poured two glasses of iced tea. He smiled as he glanced at his mother on the porch. He retrieved the bottle of Smirnoff from the cabinet over the refrigerator where he knew his Nana kept it. He added a dollop to his mother's glass. He picked up the last two cookies from the tray.

"Here you go, mom! I grabbed the last two cookies. You want one?"

Ed looked down at his partially unclothed mother. Her sweat-moistened bra was translucent. Her rigid chocolate nipples stood out in sharp relief against her bra. Her legs were bare and spread, glistening with sweat.

Emma squinted at the bulge in her son's jeans as he stood over her. He reminded her of her brother. Until he died suddenly last year, they had an off-and-on sexual relationship for most of their lives. Often enough that Ed might have been his son.

She and Claude were in an extended dry spell. Their dire financial situation did not lend itself to romantic moments. Not that there were many in the past. At 45, and with her entering menopause, it seemed their sex life was in the rearview mirror.

"Thank you, darling!"

She made an uncoordinated stab at taking the glass. She missed and clutched her son's hard-on. She squeezed it, thinking she was clutching the glass.

"MOM!"

Ed took a quick step back. The drinks sloshed on his mom's legs.

"SHIT! I'm sorry!"

Emma popped up in the chair when the cold drink hit her legs. She instinctively pulled the hem of her dress up to keep it out of the liquid.

"Get a towel!"

Ed sat the drinks on the serving table. He sprinted into the kitchen and grabbed a towel.

"Here, mom!" He offered her the towel.

Emma was holding her dress around her waist. She was high enough to be unaware and uncaring that she was on display for her son. Her panties were pulled tight into her cleft, creating a large cameltoe.

"If I let go of the hem of my dress, it will get wet. Dry my legs for me!"

Emma relaxed on the lounger, drinking vodka-laced iced tea and nibbling on a cookie as her son dried her legs. She was high enough not to be bothered about her lack of modesty in front of her son.

She felt a salacious thrill watching him kneeling beside the lounger, drying her legs. She had never realized how handsome her son was, just like her brother.

The marijuana high and the vodka-laced iced tea had her detached from the world. She was in a trance, recalling the amazing sex she had with her brother. She was dimly aware that her son was drying higher up her legs than where she was wet.

The little shit, she thought, was taking advantage of his poor mother.

Ed ogled his mother's panty-covered pussy as he inched the towel up her leg. Years of repressed lust for her overwhelmed his THC-reduced inhibitions. He pushed the towel up her legs and between her thighs.

His other hand eased up his mother's thighs and cupped her pussy. He stroked her panty-covered pussy with his index finger.

Emma's eyes popped open and her hips thrust up when she felt her son fingering her vagina. She was high out of her mind, and her inhibitions were lowered.

"You missed a spot," Emma giggled, pointing between her thighs. "I'm wet there too."

"I need to get closer! I don't see anything," Ed drunkenly giggled!"

Ed lay on his belly between his mother's plump thighs. The aroma of her arousal was overpowering. He slid forward and kissed her panties.

"MMM! Naughty boy! You still didn't get the wet spot."

She spread her legs so they were on either side of the lounger. The porch swam slowly around her. Other than her guttural moans, the only sound was the buzz of the insects and the occasional car passing on the highway.

Ed was having trouble focusing. The dark spot in his mother's wet panties seemed to grow and pulse. He kissed the dark spot.

"Oh fuck!"

Emma grabbed her son's head. Sensations rocketed from her pussy through her body. The iced tea mixed with vodka, the cookies, and HRT patch had her disconnected from the world. She was more aroused than she had ever been in her life. And lying between her thighs was her son!

Ed moved the gusset of her granny panties aside. He delicately flicked at his mother's engorged clit and ran his tongue up and down her swollen vaginal lips.

He shoved his hands under her ass, lifted her hips, and explored her fragrant anus with his tongue. When he stuck his tongue in her asshole, her plump hips popped up as if they were spring-loaded.

"You missed," she grunted, "but don't stop!"

Her husband hardly ever licked her pussy. He was old school and thought it wasn't manly. He wasn't like her brother, whom she routinely 69ed with until he died.

Ed slid his arms under his mother's thighs, lifting her ass partially off the lounger and pulled her to him. He feasted, first probing her anus, then tongue fucking her pussy.

"Oh Fuck!"

Emma writhed on the lounger as her son ate out her pussy and asshole. She came repeatedly, squirting her essence on her son's face

Emma and her husband were into vanilla sex, missionary with the lights out. Since her brother died, she had never had anyone doing oral on her. She grabbed her son's head and wrapped her fat thighs around his head.

Her son was orally sexually active. The girls at his school, fearing an unwanted pregnancy, would rather do oral than fuck. He had eaten a lot of pussy but fucked only once at a house party.

"You like that, Momma?"

He was looking up over her jiggly mommy pooch. He had managed to get two fingers in her pussy as he moved from tonguing her anus and licking her clit.

"Mommy loves what her baby is doing to her."

Ed slipped off his jeans and turned head to toe on the lounger. It was a tight fit with his mother's bulk, so he ended up lying partially on top of her.

His mother, flashing back to her deceased brother, inhaled his cock. Her husband liked for her to suck his dick but would never 69. She sucked hungrily, reveling in her son's hard cock in her mouth and his tongue doing magical things to her cunt.

Her son simultaneously eating her pussy had her feeling like she was being turned inside out, like her life essence was being sucked from her. Emma had cum before, but never with the intensity she did now. She wanted to scream in ecstasy, but her son's massive tool swelling in her mouth prevented her.

Suddenly, he came as only an 18-year-old could, pumping seemingly quarts of his seed into her mouth. She struggled mightily to swallow the torrent but was overwhelmed by the flood. The excess ran out of the corners of her mouth and down her cheeks to her neck.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of her orgasms, the spiked tea, and the marijuana, Emma passed out.

Ed levered himself off his mother and stood over her, swaying. Her legs were still spread, and her neatly trimmed fur was matted to her labia. He kicked his jeans off his ankles and climbed between his unconscious mother's legs. He ran his cock's acorn head up and down her swollen cunt lips and entered her. Even dripping wet, her pussy was tight around his donkey dick.

Emma was dreaming that one of her fantasy lovers from her romance novels was fucking her. Since she and her husband's sex life had fallen off a cliff, she spent much time in these fantasies.

This one was different. Usually, her fingers would be in her pussy as she read a novel. Something bigger was there now. Initially, it was painful but quickly became as enjoyable as her fingers. Her hips pumped, meeting the thrusts.

The intensity of the feeling pulled her back to consciousness. When her eyes fluttered open, she stared into the lust-contorted face of her son. With consciousness and the lessening of the effects of the tea and cookies came an awareness that her son was fucking her.

She was still high enough not to care! She fucked him back, joying her son's massive tool stretching her hole. Parts of her besotted mind knew it was wrong. However, her son's cock was taking her to heights she had never experienced.

"Fuck mommy, baby! Fuck her hard!"

Ed redoubled his efforts, his back undulating as he drove his dick balls deep in the best pussy in the world, his mother's pussy!

Sweat streamed off them as they rutted on the porch. Emma began to sober up and recalled she wasn't on birth control pills any longer, and she ran the risk of getting pregnant.