Three times a week, I pick up my grandchildren at school and drive them home. The other two days, my daughter picks them up. Usually there are about eight or nine other people there pickup up kids. Now and then, there are a few grandparents doing it, but there is one who is there everyday I am there.
This particular grandmother is short (5' 2"), very pretty, very friendly, and seems to look after herself physically. We always have a chat while we are waiting for school to get out. Last Thursday, it was raining quite hard, and I invited her to come sit in the car with me and wait until we heard the school bell ring.
She introduced herself as Eleanor, but most call her "Ellie." I told her my name and we waited. I liked Eleanor from the first time I met her. She was funny and a hockey fan. I really got along well with her.
On Thursday as we talked in the car, I found out that she was widowed and quite lonely. She was also demonstrative, because she kept putting her hand on my arm. I liked this, even to the point of taking her hand for a few seconds and letting it go. I wanted to find out what she wanted. As I looked out of the side window of my car, she took my hand, even when there wasn't a conversation going on. "H-m-m-m-m, what do we have here?" I wondered.
I guess I had the heat on in the car because she unbuttoned her jacket and opened it up. For an older lady, she had a pretty solid rack. I also noticed that her jeans were a bit tight and showed off more of her body. "Yeah, I could do her." I thought.
As we continued to talk, she took my hand again and put them in her lap. I really wanted to explore her thighs and in between, but I wasn't about to push my luck.
We heard the bell ring and decided to get out of the car to meet the kids. "I'd better not forget their cookies," she said. "Once a week I make them cookies for an after-school treat. Would you like to have one?"
I took one bite and said, "These are fantastic. Thanks."
"Would you like to come to my house tomorrow morning. I make some pretty mean cinammon rolls." she asked.
"I'd love that, Eleanor. What time?"
She said "You can come anytime you want." and I couldn't help but notice a bit of smirk on her face."
"How about I come to your place around 10:15. I'll bring some Tim Hortons coffee. Maybe we can roll up the rim and win," referring to their spring contest.
"Bruce, I think you're a winner anyway. See you then."
The next morning, I wore a pair of cargo pants and a golf shirt, both of which were somewhat baggy. I picked up the coffee and headed for her house. When she opened the door for me, I couldn't believe what I was seeing: "This is a grandmother???" Man, she looked hot.
Eleanor wore a pair of tight jeans and a tight sweater that didn't come all the way to her jeans, so I could see a bit of her belly. Her tits were large enough that her sweater pushed them out, leaving the bottom of her sweater protruding from her body a bit. She was stunning, to say the least and her full lips were enticing.
We went into the kitchen where the smell of cinnammon rolls overtook me. They are my most favorite dessert. I walked over to the counter, bent down for a good whiff and remarked on how good they look. "As they old saying goes, 'Good enough to eat. So do you, Bruce," she says.
I just laughed at her and called her a horny old devil. She said, "I was a horny young devil in my day. Most days I still am."
We took our rolls and the coffee to an adjoining country kitchen sideroom and sat beside each other on a couch. She had patio doors leading off this room, but the vertical drapes were closed, so we had a good deal of privacy.
