Yet Another One of Those DaysbyDreams of Desire©
Jimmy was disappointed to find his fantasy woman from the previous trip to his grandparents wasn't on the train this time, but amused himself by remembering his mother's cries as all those cocks filled her slutty body. He'd been tormented in her presence since the revelation in Dan's cellar and had tried to avoid her as much as possible; a trip to his gran's would be just the thing to help him work his mind straight, he thought, and he was right - though not in the way he expected.
He arrived to see his gran hanging out the washing and waved hello before going into the house to put his bag in the guest room. He put his clothes into the wardrobe and hid his stash of porn mags under the bed, a vital supply as he hadn't been able to ease his rampant libido for fear his mother might hear him – he couldn't face any awkward questions from her at present. His friend, Paul, had gone on holiday for a week and Jimmy needed to get his rocks off before he exploded. Another good reason for this trip as it would enable him to jerk off in privacy. His cock pressed insistently against his jeans and he considered doing something about it, but was forestalled by the sound footsteps on the stairs.
"Hello, Jimmy, a nice surprise to see you," his grandpa said from the open doorway.
Jimmy turned and smiled. "Thanks, gramp's, sorry to come unannounced but I had to get away for the weekend. Hope you don't mind?"
"Not at all, you're always welcome, you know that. Have you seen your gran?"
"Yes, she's hanging out the washing."
"Well, I was about to do some work in the garden and wouldn't say no to a bit of help."
"Sure, no problem."
"Off out already?" asked his gran as they met her coming back inside the house.
"Jimmy's going to help me in the garden."
"He's only just arrived and you're putting him to work, already?"
"I don't mind gran," Jimmy said, kissing her cheek, "I've been studying hard and will be glad to give my eyes a rest."
"How long is it 'til you go to University?" she asked, filling a kettle at the old-fashioned Belfast sink.
"About six weeks," Jimmy replied absently, watching his granddad unlock the shed.
"We'll miss you."
"Oh, I'll come visit when -" Jimmy said, his composure ruffled as he turned to see his gran's large buttocks waving at him as she bent over to fetch cups from the cupboard. His cock flexed its muscle, reminding how long it had been since he'd satisfied its growing potency.
"When?" his gran prompted, placing three mugs on the clean, white Formica top.
"When, er, I have autumn break." Jimmy said, mentally shaking himself, the wobbling image of her ample flesh jiggling wantonly through his oversexed mind. He forced himself not to stare at her buxom breasts and kept his eyes on her face; plain, but not unattractive with a lifetime's experience etched in the wrinkles at the corners of her brown eyes and lips. Her light brown hair was salted with grey, cut neatly into tight curls that danced gaily as she busied herself making the tea.
"No girlfriend yet?" she asked, spooning sugar into two cups, leaving hers unsweetened. She was sweet enough already, she always said.
"No, not yet." Jimmy smiled, taking two mugs in each hand.
"Time enough for my favourite grandson to make some lucky girl very happy." she said, patting his cheek fondly.
Jimmy walked carefully down the garden path, ducking under a fragrant row of silk under-garments, blowing in the breeze like ship sails on the high seas and into the shed, putting a hot mug of thick, sweet tea by his grandpa on the table where he was rummaging through cluttered boxes.
"Thanks, Jimmy. I could've sworn I had some six inch nails in a jar. The fence needs repairing at the top of the garden. I'll have to pop into town and get more."
"Won't these do?" Jimmy asked, holding a box of rusty nails."
"No, lad, they'll not last the winter and there's no but a dozen six incher's in there. I'll need to break open the piggy bank and buy some."
Jimmy grinned at his grandpa's dry wit. His grandparents were comfortably off in retirement and managed to go away two or three times a year on SAGA cruises. He sat down on an old box and sipped his tea, breathing reminiscently on a plume of aromatic smoke as his grandpa sat opposite in his old chair, puffing his pipe alight. He could hear his gran clattering pans in the kitchen and a pang of nostalgia gripped his heart; familiar sounds and smells of his childhood that he would leave behind all too soon.
They chatted about 'manly things', as his grandpa called it until their mugs sat cold and empty on the table. His grandpa left, promising to return within half an hour and Jimmy promised he'd try and fix some of the splintered wood while he was gone. Jimmy's attention, however, was drawn to the billowing pair of pink knickers on the line as he stepped out of the shed and he mentally admonished his rising libido, but obeyed its insistent call to ease the growing pressure in his balls. With a pensive glance towards the kitchen window where his gran's attention was on the stove, he plucked them from the line and scuttled back to the shed, furtively clutching his prize. Without waiting to reconsider, Jimmy spread a sheet of newspaper across the table, unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, carefully wrapping the shaft in damp silk but leaving the head free to avoid staining the delicate fabric.
"God, yes," he sighed in relief, stroking hard and fast to bring himself quickly to the boil.
Jimmy closed his eyes, summoning erotic images from the hormone-soaked recesses of his mind; Paul's fat cock, hot and throbbing; Mrs. Shelby's big tits and bushy pussy; Dan's hairy arse; his mother's tight, juicy cunt. Oh God, yes...almost there! Pre-cum greased his palm, splattering the paper under his dripping nob. He stood on tip-toe, buttocks clenched, balls tight, hand a-blur on his throbbing cock, seeking the release he desperately craved...then the door opened.
Jimmy started in surprise and half turned to see his gran framed in the doorway, her mouth slack with shock. They faced each other for almost a minute, heavy breathing the only sound breaking the stunned silence.
"Gran I..." Jimmy began to say before she interrupted him.
"Are those mine?"
Jimmy looked down and realised he'd tried to cover his actions by putting her knickers over his erection, soaking them with pre-cum in the process. He nodded and hung his head in shame, carefully pulling them carefully off his throbbing cock. Her eyes narrowed as she saw his powerful tool jutting lewdly from his hairy crotch, considering the boy she knew was so obviously more grown up than she realised, and took the soiled garment from him.
"I'm sorry gran. Please don't tell grandpa," Jimmy pleaded, putting his best little-boy-lost expression on his red face.
His grandma appraised the sincerity in his voice and saw no reason to embarrass the boy further. At his age, men had more hormones than sense and she could always wash her knickers again.
"I came to get the mugs and tell you I'm making your favourite for dinner. Make yourself decent and we'll say no more of this," she said, smiling to reassure him, "and don't forget to wash your hands before you come to the table."
"Yes, gran," Jimmy said, smiling back in relief.
His erection, however, was decidedly unrelieved and went back into his jeans under severe protest. After regaining a semblance of control, he walked stiffly into the bright sunlight to get on with the job, leaving his grandma to remove the impulsive emissions from her knickers. A large stain covered the crotch surrounded by smaller spots, circling the stain like satellites around a planet. The musty aroma stirred a long dormant emotion within her and she looked through the window to where Jimmy bent over the broken shards of fence on the immaculately tailored lawn.
"Oh, Jimmy, whatever were you thinking," she murmered, rubbing the viscous stain between forefinger and thumb. She turned off the tap and put her knickers in to soak, sucking her finger clean in a natural response to clean it as she did when making cakes for the church bazaar.
"Hello Moll, I'm back." Her husband's voice startled her and she blushed furiously, plunging her hands into the warm, soapy water to hide the incriminating evidence.
"Hello luv. Get what you wanted?"
"Yes. What's that, I thought you'd done a wash?"
"They...they fell on the path. Need a scrub." She improvised, rubbing furiously enough to splash suds onto the front of her apron.
Molly watched her husband walk up the path and breathed a sigh of relief, finished scrubbing her knickers and hung them back on the line. She stood and watched them working on the fence for a while then went back in to prepare lunch, a simple egg salad, and called them in to eat.
Jimmy could hardly look his gran in the eye and kept his attention on the meal, glad to be out of there and back at work an hour later. He desperately needed to ease the throbbing demand in his jeans but could find no opportunity to do anything about it, for the fence repair took all afternoon. His grandpa was pleased to get the job done in time for tea, though, and they went back, tired and hungry.
The privacy of the bathroom offered another chance to ease his frustration, but as he worked soap into his cock under the shower, his grandpa called to say the meal was ready. With no time to enjoy a leisurely wank, he rinsed off, dressed quickly and went down to eat, flushed and tense.
Molly saw that her grandson was ill at ease and wondered if he was still embarrassed about being caught earlier. She saw he was keeping his eyes firmly on his food, shovelling chicken and potatoes into his mouth as though wanting to be away from the table - and her scrutiny - as fast as possible. She thought the modern generation was much more at ease about sex, much more so than hers had been. Sex, to her, was something done in privacy - between a man and his wife, preferably. Her husband, bless him, was the only man she'd ever taken in her bed: always with the light off and only in two positions; on top, or from behind. Oral sex, to him, was a way of talking about it, not doing it - and he'd done precious little of either for longer than she cared to remember. She resolved to amend that tonight when they went to bed - if he had any energy after coming back from the pub. He left as soon as he'd finished helping her with the washing-up, taking Jimmy along for a few beers. That suited her fine; she'd have the house to herself and time to take a long soak in the bath. Before doing that, she turned down the sheets on her bed then went into Jimmy's room to do the same.
"Oh, dash it." Molly muttered in exasperation as her necklace fell on the floor. She looked sadly at the broken chain and got down to pick it up, spotting Jimmy's magazines lying under the bed. Curiosity got the better of her common sense and she picked them up, flicking through the titles with growing interest when she saw that one featured large, mature women.
"Oh Jimmy, you're full of surprises," she murmered, turning page after page of buxom women posing, stripping and masturbating without a hint of self-consciousness, using their fingers and a variety of toys that made Molly blush to the roots of her hair. She'd never owned a dildo - her husband would've been most upset to think she needed anything other than him - but occasionally satisfied herself with a well placed finger or two. This, she felt, was going to be one of those occasions. Molly lifted her skirt waist high, sat on the edge of the bed and slowly rubbed her crotch through her damp knickers, taking her time looking through a series of pictures showing a large brunette enjoying a well hung young man's intimate attention.
'Lucky girl', Molly thought, regarding the woman's moist, red lips sucking on his thick shaft. She tried to turn the page, found them stuck together and peeled them apart carefully to find that Jimmy had obviously enjoyed this picture very much. A large stain had smeared across the woman's ample buttocks, her body spread over two pages with the hung stud kneeling behind her, his impressive erection poised to strike. She couldn't help but think of Jimmy looking at this picture, dick in hand, as he had been in the shed, and felt her pussy flood with heat. Molly moaned and pulled her crotch to one side, turning the page to see the stud had plugged the woman's hairy pussy with every inch, the next page showed them in close-up, his big balls resting on the crack of her bum and his cock pulled back to expose her swollen pussy in the next. Molly breathlessly turned the page and thrust another finger inside her pussy, looking at the brunette's large breasts wrapped tight around his slick prick before he came all over them at the end, his thick, white cum making her breasts look like freshly creamed cakes.
"Oh my," she whispered, licking her lips and unbuttoning her blouse, softly stroking her nipple through her bra.
The rest of the photos returned to the theme of female display and masturbation, which held little excitement to her. She'd never been sexually interested in women and cursorily glanced at them before returning to the center-spread, unbuttoning her blouse fully to play with her nipples, imagining the hot young stud sucking them while she fingered her wet pussy, getting it ready for him to push his big dick deep inside her from behind. Molly got on her hands and knees on the bed, the magazine inches from her face as she lifted her big bum for him, rubbing her clit fast and hard, wishing she could feel him pounding her pussy, knowing he would go on and on until she came - unlike her husband who usually squirted his sperm before she'd really got going.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Molly hissed through clenched teeth as her orgasm took hold of her body and mind.
The image of Jimmy spurting over (her bum) the page rose shockingly in her mind and sent her body over the edge with a sharp cry of guilty pleasure; her mind's eye replaying the image of him in the shed, his hand vigorously stroking himself off, powerful spurts of hot sperm that covered her as much as the brunette. Molly collapsed on the bed, her body quivering from head to toe as she pushed a third finger up her wet pussy and used the palm of her hand to rub her tender clit; wanting - needing - more than she could give herself.
"Well," she sighed as the tremors subsided, "you are a wicked lady!"
Molly giggled girlishly and rolled over, spreading her legs to run her fingers through her hairy pussy, spreading the lips like one of the models in Jimmy's magazine.
"I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. deMille," she chortled, laughing out loud to think anybody but her husband could be remotely interested in her that way, anymore.
She sat up, looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. "Bath-time, madam," she said.
After tidying Jimmy's bed and replacing the magazines back where she found them, Molly relaxed in the bath, the warm water soothing her as much as the fresh, clean feeling of a good orgasm.
'Hurry back, darling,' she thought, rubbing her clit gently, 'I need your love tonight.'
"Oh, Moll, I can't, I'm too tired."
Molly sighed and released the limp piece of meat between her husband's thighs. "You're always too tired - or too drunk, she thought - "Mike, what's wrong? Don't you love me any more?"
"Of course I do, Moll," he said, rolling over to hug her warm curves, "but it's not like I'm a teenager anymore."
He gave her a warm kiss, rolled over again and was soon asleep, snoring softly, oblivious to his wife's deeper need for more than just a loving hug and a kiss. Molly resigned herself to another sexless night, closed her eyes and tried to sleep. It was no use. She opened her eyes, flushed and breathless after - she checked her bedside clock - only twenty minutes. Carefully, she rolled out of bed, put on her dressing-gown and padded quietly to the door, intending to ease her frustration in the bathroom rather than disturb her sleeping spouse. The hallway was dark, but she needed no light to find her way, although a thin beam showed under Jimmy's bedroom door. Once again, curiosity overcame her common sense and she carefully padded down the hall, wondering what he was up to at this time of night. Soft snores drifted faintly to her ear pressed up against the thin wood and she smiled fondly; he was sleeping.
'I'll just turn off his light and let him rest properly,' Molly told herself, opening the door quietly. She peered round and saw he was indeed asleep - but one part of him most definitely wasn't. The head of Jimmy's semi-erect cock twitched slightly as though sensing her presence, stretching itself along his firm thigh, not fully awake as yet, but certainly not as sleepy as its recumbent master. Molly crept carefully around the bed without taking her eyes from the thick muscle twitching between Jimmy's legs, one under the sheet, and the other spread across the bed, exposing his full balls amidst the thick hair around his crotch.
'I should cover him up, really, or he'll get cold', she thought, reaching over to pull the sheet across him but inadvertently brushing his cock as she did so. Molly caught her breath as it stirred upright to see what was happening, the skin peeling back from the shiny nob which throbbed palpably under her hand.
She pulled it away; 'fantasising about it was one thing, but actually touching it was quite another,' common sense dryly informed her - 'but nobody need know,' curiosity mused - 'besides, I'm only going to make him more comfortable', she thought, 'and, after all, it won't bite!'
Molly stifled a giggle and tenderly wrapped her palm around the stiffening shaft, feeling the strength course through the network of veins along it, pumping blood into the hot length until it jutted proudly erect from her hand's warm embrace. She regarded it critically, comparing how her husband's felt to the one before her. This was actually the first one she'd seen in a state of arousal, as her husband always waited until the light was off before making love to her - and no wonder - this felt twice as thick, longer by about three or four inches and endowed with a much larger pair of balls which swelled potently underneath. She caressed it with her fingertips, tracing the thick vein which twisted around the shaft, before encircling the meaty nob with index finger and thumb, squeezing it carefully. The slit opened and closed, as though winking complicitly with her secret play, and oozed pre-cum in a clear stream that coated her hand, spilled down the shaft and trickled over Jimmy's balls to disappear into the hairy crease between his cheeks.
Molly took a deep breath and licked her lips, wondering how it would taste if she just touched the tip of his cock with the tip of her tongue. An insistent pulse beat in her clit, parting the lips of her pussy. A warm trickle of juice slid down her inner thigh and she rubbed them together briskly, unable to contain her excitement at the illicit sensation of (incest) feeling another man for the first time in her life. She looked at Jimmy's face to see any sign of him waking, then back at his cock, torn between obeying her common sense and letting him slumber on or satisfying her curiosity by leaning over to (suck him off) taste him. Jimmy's breathing grew faster but still he slept. She risked moving her head a little closer, tickling his flesh with warm breath, stroking his shaft rhythmically up and down, squeezing his heavy balls hard enough to bring a fresh flow of pre-cum sliding between her fingers. The musky smell of his sex aroused her too much for common sense to prevail any longer; her tongue snaked out to lap around the hard, shiny nob.