Grandma's SecretbyJohn Jensen©
I am a woman of 61 years who lives in Victoria, Australia and a proud grandmother of three. I have lived with a secret since the day I celebrated my eighteenth birthday 43 years ago.
It was to be a big day; to be celebrated in a grandiose style at my mother’s seaside retreat, a party where family and friends were invited. My father was invited, though very much against my mother’s wish. I had a long, tiring talk with mum before that could be arranged. I only saw dad once or twice a year. Years ago, my parents had a messy divorce, blaming each other for faults and for being unfaithful. Whatever, only the lawyers benefited from the whole affair.
As dad lived in New Zealand, he arrived a couple of days earlier and was accommodated in mum’s weekend retreat at the beach. The temperature between my parents hadn’t changed – extremely cool air. Mum had her residence and business in Melbourne to take care of, so I stayed in the house with dad. It would be a futile exercise for me to try to reconcile them, just to get the best out of the day together.
I went to the airport to meet dad. When he saw me he was one big smile; he gave me a big hug, a little more than a fatherly one, I thought. He held me tight for a while and kissed me on the mouth and said how much he had missed me. I was stunned. But something in me, something I have never felt before, began to move. He was my dad, I shouldn’t feel weak-kneed because my dad wanted to hug and kiss me, but I was not a little girl any more. The boys had noticed that too, that I had grown up. Several had tried their luck with me in the lower region, but I had always made sure that no sex before marriage. Kissing and nipple sucking had been allowed, but that was it.
At the dinner table, dad kept talking about how good I looked and I was an attractive young woman now. I was flattered. We had just said goodnight and went to our rooms when a few minutes later there was a little knock on my door – “Diana, it’s me, dad. I’m a bit cold, is there an extra blanket somewhere?”
I opened the door and gazed on the big bulge in his boxer shorts. Apart from a blanket, it wasn’t hard to guess what else he was after, but I couldn’t refuse to let him in while I went looking for a blanket. When I came back, he was sitting on the bed, but he didn’t appear to be cold. He had always looked after his body and looked younger than his 48 years. Now, he was sitting on my bed “freezing”. I asked if that was just an excuse to come into my room. He admitted that during the year, since he last saw me, I had developed into a beautiful young woman and I was not that little girl he used to know. I didn’t know whether I should ask him to leave my room or not. Again, the same feeling I had when I met him in airport, came over me.
“Come on, sit by my side, honey”, he said.
I shook my head.
“Oh, don’t be silly, dad has missed you a lot”.
It took some courage before I decided to sit next to him.
“That wasn’t so hard, dear, was it?”
He placed his hand on my thigh. I shivered a little, but his usual quiet talk calmed me.
“Dad, please, don’t . . . it is not right what you’re doing!”
“I know, honey”, while his hand wandered upwards.
“No dad, don’t, don’t go any further!”
Somehow, I didn’t stop him or object to this unspeakable act that was taking place between a father and his daughter. But I was soaking wet between the legs and I could see his penis had grown enormously. He had noticed I had been looking down at that monster of his.
“Honey, is that what you want?”
My breathing had started to be out of control, couldn’t answer, just shake my head then nod. I couldn’t control myself.
“Touch it, dear, won’t hurt you!” I shook my head.
“No dad, I can’t do that, it’s not right!”
He took my hand and placed on his penis. For the first time in my life, I took hold in a penis . . . my father’s.
He enjoyed every bit of what we were doing. He began making movements. I was in a different world, couldn’t think clearly and started to touch myself.
He stood up and took hold on my head while stuffing his monster in my mouth. I had always thought that as being the most disgusting thing in the world. It almost choked me. He held me hard while he was mouthfucking me; I couldn’t escape it. After a while it wasn’t all that bad, and he knew I would like it. He told me to lie on the back and to spread my legs.
I remember, I was completely in his power, and he knew how to handle women. In no time he went down and found my clitoris. That was it, I screamed my pleasure out, turned and twisted. He kept going that way for a while.
Suddenly, I felt a pain in my anus that made the tears flow. He had stuck a finger up there.
“Dad, that’s it, I won’t be part of that, it is not right what we are doing anyway. Please, stop!”
He ignored what I said, just kept doing it. I protested for a while, but to no avail and stopped eventually. It wasn’t so bad after all, I thought. I became randy and asked him rotate the finger a little, which he did. Boy, did I feel pleasure.
“Dad, come on, fuck me in the cunt, please!”
First, he fingerfucked me.
“I don’t want you to be a virgin when I give you my prick, honey!”
There was a slight pain first and a bit of blood, then he gently guided his missile in. I remember it felt oh so good when he did it. Slowly at first, then faster and faster like a piston. We forgot time and place.
Afterwards, we felt asleep together.
Next morning, at the breakfast table, I was the first to tell dad what not to do.
“Don’t breath a word to mum about what we did last last night!”
“Don’t worry, dear, I won’t. She doesn’t like me anyway and if it’s all right with you, I will be going after lunch!”
I still can’t believe it - I asked him - before leaving, if he wanted another encounter with me, which he said yes to. We went to my room and repeated what we had been doing the night before. I became pregnant after his visit. The only child I have, a girl. He is the grandfather of the same children as I am grandmother. I have never told him nor mum.
I shall never forget the introduction to sex by that man – my dad.
Dad is still alive, mum died nine years ago. I have been to New Zealand many times to visit him. We have had intercourse on countless occasions, as often as if we had been a married couple. He is becoming frail, but he still likes to get his hands under my skirts and explore me while I play with his private parts.