Grandpa's Girl

Wilf and Sophie were both frozen in place, unable to move, unable to speak. The water from the dropped glass continued to soak into Sophie's blouse, hand buried in her joggers, fingers still pressed against her damp panties, dildo held in her other hand mere inches from her face. Wilfs eyes flicked between the box filled with sex toys and the barely legal girl in front of him, knowing there was only one possible explanation but still being unwilling to accept it. Her small, perky breasts were visible due to the wet top she was wearing, nipples pushing against the fabric, stiff, sensitive and begging to be sucked on. Sophie's face was a vision of panic and horror and after what felt like forever, finally she moved, dropping the phallic sex toy and pulling her hand out of her pants. A single tear ran down her cheek as the emotions she was experiencing overwhelmed her.

"I'm sorry... Mr Dewhurst," she sobbed weakly.

Seeing the young woman in such an obvious state of distress, Wilfred's fatherly instincts kicked in, turning to grab his dressing gown which was hanging on the door behind him. He knelt down beside her and wrapped it around her to protect her modesty, picking up the dildo and dropping it back into the box, closing the lid.

"It's ok," he whispered softly, "It's ok Sophie." She couldn't look him in the eye, head dropping as she stared at the floor, tears starting to fall. She had messed up, badly. She had invaded this man's privacy, found something she wasn't supposed to and worst of all, she was turned on by it. She didn't know how to feel, her mind a whirling cyclone of conflicting emotions.

Pushing the box back under the bed, Wilf stood up, offering the young woman his hand. "Get up Sophie," he said warmly, trying his best to keep her calm. She looked up at his hand for a second, debating whether to accept the offer or not. Finally, she reached out to him, realizing too late that the hand she extended was the very same one that had just been rubbing her pussy through her knickers. Wilf felt a spot of wetness on his hand, but he ignored it as he helped her up, offering her a spot on the bed and sitting down next to her. Reaching over to the nightstand for a box of tissues, he offered one to Sophie. She gladly accepted it, whispering her thanks as she dabbed at her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to calm her mind.

Finally, she stammered out a few words. "Are you... going to fire me Mr Dewhurst?" She asked, a look of fear in her eyes. "Are you going to tell my Mum?" The second question caused the waterworks to start up again. She was the only child, her mum had always been so proud of her, for her studies, for how kind she was to others and now she was terrified that it would all be ruined by this one indiscretion.

Wilf sighed softly. "No Sophie, I'm not going to fire you. Nor am I going to tell your mother."

"Really?" Sophie asked, excited desperation in her voice as she grabbed onto the elderly man's arm.

"Really," Wilf answered softly, putting a hand on hers. "I have grandchildren around your age, so I understand. You just made a mistake, that's all, but I'm not angry with you, okay Sophie?"

"Are you sure?" She replied, apprehensively.

"I'm sure," Wilf replied, offering her another tissue to wipe her eyes.

"Thank you," Sophie whispered softly, relief washing over her. Her heart was still pounding at a million miles an hour, but at least her mum wouldn't find out what had happened.

"In terms of what happens next, I'm going to leave that up to you Sophie. It looks like you've done a great job with the cleaning today." Sophie smiled softly at the compliment. "So if you want to come back tomorrow so you can carry on, you are more than welcome to."

"Okay," Sophie said softly.

"And in regards to all this," he gestured towards where the box was hidden under the bed, "If you want to, we don't ever have to speak about it again."

Sophie couldn't believe how kind he was being about all of this. She had broken his trust and most people would have screamed at her and kicked her out of the house, but not Wilf. Her heart fluttered softly as she looked up at him and felt a gentle tingle between her legs. She was probably just confused, it was such a bizarre situation to be in, her body didn't know how to react. She looked him in the eyes for the first time since he had caught her as he continued to speak.

"But I've been around for a very long time. I don't consider what you found to be shameful, I was just surprised when I came in. So if you do want to talk about it, then we can. But that's entirely up to you, and if it's too much for you and you don't come back tomorrow, I'll understand, okay?"

As they looked into each other's eyes, Sophie was overcome by how kind and sincere they were. There was a softness in his eyes that reminded her of her own father. He really, truly meant what he was saying, he wasn't just trying to make her feel better. Dabbing her eyes of her final tears, she stood up, composing herself before turning to Wilf, who was still sitting on the bed.

"Thank you for being so nice Mr Dewhurst."

"Please, call me Wilf," he replied encouragingly, "all my friends do." They stayed in awkward silence for a moment, Sophie unsure what to do in her still soaked too, hidden under his dressing gown. Wilf finally broke the silence. "You can't walk home in a soaked top like that." he observed, frowning, "Let me find you something to wear."

He walked across the room to what had once been Denise's wardrobe. It had been a while since he had opened it and he took a deep breath before pulling the doors open. The scent of his late wife wafted into his nostrils, causing all the emotions he had spent months fighting to contain to bubble up inside him. Looking through the garments of clothing suspended on hangers, he found a simple red blouse, removing it and turning to extend his hand towards Sophie.

"It might be a little big for you, but it should suffice for the walk home," he offered, smiling gently. "You can get changed in the bathroom."

"What about the gown?" she asked, taking the garment from Wilf a little apprehensively.

"You can just leave it in the bathroom, don't worry about it."

"Thank you, I'll see you tomorrow." She flashed him a soft smile, looking a little happier than she had done just a few minutes earlier. "Bye, Wilf."

"Bye Sophie," Wilf replied as she turned and left the room. After she made her way to the bathroom, a couple of minutes passed and he heard the front door open and then close behind her. She was gone and now Wilf could finally relax a little

He took a deep breath, laying back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling as he thought. What the fuck had just happened? His mind went back over the events of the past few minutes. He'd finished washing up in the kitchen, drying off the pots and putting them in their proper place. Wondering how Sophie was getting on, he figured that she may be thirsty and so poured her a glass of water, making his way upstairs to check on her.

The image of what he saw when he opened that door was burned into his mind. Sophie on her knees on the floor, Denise's favorite dildo in one hand, the other buried in her crotch. It had taken her a second to react to him entering the room and there was no mistaking that she had been rubbing herself intimately. As he replayed it in his mind, he even thought he had heard her moan before her head whipped around to look at him. As his eyes remained closed, blood began to pump to his crotch, dick starting to harden. He recalled dropping the glass, the water covering her chest and soaking into her blouse. He pictured her breasts slowly coming into focus, the petite little orbs, maybe a B cup at most, and those hard nipples, surrounded by puffy areola.

His eyes snapped open, remembering the wetness he had felt when he had taken her hand. Was that the hand that had been buried between her legs? Sitting upright he looked at his palm. He must be mistaken, maybe some of the water from the glass had gotten onto her hand. But, when he dropped the glass, her digits were still inside her pants, so that must mean...

Suddenly, the temptation to smell her arousal on his hand overwhelmed him. He hadn't enjoyed the scent of a wet pussy in a very long time and a fierce battle raged inside him. The primal part of him urged him to sniff the young girl's sweet juices and wrap his hand around his rapidly hardening cock. It would be so wrong of him, but he couldn't deny that it would feel amazing. The moral part of him was fighting as hard as it could, telling him that he'd be a sick old pervert if he did it, but his lust was slowly winning the fight.

As had been the case so many times in his life, it was Denise who snapped him out of it. Glancing over at her picture, he came to his senses, springing off the bed and rushing to the bathroom. Feverishly turning the tap, he grabbed the bar of soap from the side, scrubbing his palm and fingers under the tap as he realized how close he had been to crossing a line he could not come back from. After a minute of furious washing, he was finally happy that his hands were clean, taking a deep breath and bracing himself against the sink. Looking into the mirror, he whispered, "what the fuck are you doing?" to himself.

Sophie was young enough to be his own granddaughter and he was considering... god, he couldn't even think about it. Suddenly, a burning self hatred took over him and he slapped himself in the face, hard, leaving a large red welt on his cheek. He struck himself again on the opposite cheek, feeling adrenaline coursing through his veins as his arms shook against the sink. "Pull yourself together man," he muttered to himself. Taking a few moments to calm down, he splashed some water in his face and made his way back to the bedroom, glancing towards the bed, where the box that had caused all this trouble was resting.

Sitting down, he took Denise's picture in his hands, staring at her face encased behind the glass in the frame, using it to recentre himself and focus. "That was close Denise," he muttered, "Thank you." Placing the photo back down, he put his head in his hands. "What am I going to do?" He sat in silence for a few seconds, thinking, before he came to a realization. If Denise was here, she would tell him to not stress about it and to wait and see if Sophie came back. If she did, it could be dealt with then, but there was no point worrying about what he couldn't change. She had always been the more logical and sensible of the two of them.

Making his way downstairs, he looked around the living room. It certainly looked a lot better now that he had given it a good tidy. If Sophie did come back the next day, it would look even better by the time she was finished with it, the rest of her work attested to that.

Looking at the time, he realized he should probably fix himself something to eat. After perusing through the fridge and his cupboards, he was disappointed to see how little food of substance he actually had. Pulling on his shoes and jacket, he made his way out of the house. Stepping out into the sunshine, he basked in the warm rays for a moment before making the short walk to a local grocery store a few minutes away. As he walked, he waved to various people relaxing in their front gardens enjoying the weather. Children were riding their bikes up and down the quiet streets and as he walked past the local park, he could see teenagers playing football and the hubbub of life all around him.

Reaching his destination, he started making his way round the aisles, waving hello to the nice young lady on the till. He grabbed some basic items, fruit, vegetables, milk, pasta, rice, bread and the like before coming to a halt at the one aisle he knew better than most. The alcohol aisle. It had been weeks since he had gone a day without drinking. He wasn't an alcoholic by any stretch of the imagination, but he had certainly gotten far too comfortable drinking a few cans of beer every night and on particularly bad days, during the rest of the day too.

Steeling himself and imagining Denise spurring him on, he kept on moving. After finally taking some positive steps today, he deserved to treat himself, but maybe in a less self-destructive way for once. He eventually settled on buying himself a nice, thick, juicy steak for his dinner, along with some cheesecake for dessert. After making his purchase, he made his way back home, feeling proud of himself for not giving in to the temptation of alcohol for the first time in a very long time.

He cooked his meal and spent the evening in front of the television, watching the news and then a football game before making his way up to bed. He was still a broken man, but today he had taken a couple of small steps forward and that was something to be celebrated. Stripping out of his clothes, he climbed into bed and kissed Denise's picture good night. He eventually fell asleep despite his brain continuing to think about Sophie and what would lay in store the next day.

As he slept he dreamed of his late wife, he always did, but this time, it was different. She was sitting in a large open meadow filled with flowers, mountains behind her, sun shining, not a cloud to be seen for miles. She wore a long, elegant white dress, her hair blowing in the wind as she smiled lovingly in Wilfs direction. She looked absolutely perfect, the angel that he had loved for most of his life.

She gestured for him to come closer and he did so, taking a seat next to her amongst the grass and flowers, inhaling the crisp mountain air. Brushing her hair behind her ear, he leant in to kiss her, but she stopped him, pressing her lip against his mouth. Surprised, Wilf pulled away, a befuddled expression all over his face as he looked at the one woman he had ever loved, ever been intimate with, the only woman he would ever need. Denise's lips started to move, but no words came out. Instead, a plane appeared in the sky behind her, writing out her words with the pink smoke trailing behind it.

"Move on Wilf. Listen to your heart. You deserve love. Give Sophie what she needs."

Wilfred was about to ask her what she meant when his eyes snapped open. He was in his bed and it was the morning. The meadow, the sky, his wife, all gone. Rubbing his eyes blearily, he realized that the duvet was tented by his rock hard manhood. Denise was still on his mind and he thought of all the times they'd started their days by pleasuring each other, before her words ran through his mind once again. 'Give Sophie what she needs.' What on earth had she meant? As the mental image of the young girl, her small perky breasts and cute, chubby face came into focus in his mind's eye, his cock throbbed and twitched uncontrollably.

"Fuck," Wilf muttered to himself, pulling himself out of bed and making his way to the shower. He stepped inside, turning down the temperature before starting the water, stepping inside to deflate his hard cock and allow himself to concentrate without the haze of lust clouding his mind. If Sophie was coming back today, he would need to handle the situation delicately, regardless of whether she wanted to talk about it or just move on from what had happened. He wondered when she would arrive, they hadn't discussed a specific time, so she could theoretically turn up at any point. It was already past nine and Wilf decided he needed to find something to do, making sure he was busy to keep his mind off of what was to come.

After drying himself off and dressing himself, he made his way downstairs. He made himself a light breakfast of some toast and a cup of tea and sat on the sofa, looking around and wondering what he should do. His eyes were drawn to the pictures of his family all around the room and he smiled warmly as he reflected on all the years they had spent together. Quiet weekends at home, going to Melanie's dance recitals, holidays to Scotland to visit Denise's extended family. His eyes settled on one specific picture, all three of them sitting around a table doing a jigsaw puzzle together. His late wife had loved any kind of puzzle, especially jigsaws and Wilf had eventually grown to love them too.

Heading into the dining room, he opened a large wooden cupboard, inside of which were boxes and boxes of board games and puzzles. He started sorting through them one at a time, each one bringing back a fond memory from the past. Finally, he found it. The Lake District jigsaw he had bought her for their first anniversary. They had visited that summer, their first solo holiday as young adults, camping out in the forest, scavenging wood to make fires, hiking and even engaging in some outdoor lovemaking. In a gift shop near Lake Windermere, Wilf had spotted the puzzle and spent the rest of the trip going to ridiculous lengths to keep it hidden from her in their tiny tent. The memories rushing through his mind made him smile widely.

Wiping dust from the cover, he made his way back to the living room. Clearing off the table, he opened it up, tipping out the small wooden pieces onto the table. The pitter patter of them bouncing along the wooden table filled the room as he went to work. Always start with the edges, that's what Denise had always said. Sorting through all the scattered wooden shapes, he quickly put together the outer edge and started working his way inwards, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he looked to find the spot for the next piece. He found it oddly relaxing and completely lost track of the time and before he knew it, an hour had passed and then two.

His peaceful puzzling was interrupted by a knock at the door which made him jump out of his skin. It must be Sophie. As Wilf stood up, his heart was pounding and he started sweating, why was he so nervous? Making his way towards the front door, he could make out Sophie's frame through the glass, opening the door timidly to greet the young lady he had caught in such a compromising position just the day before.

As the door swung open, Sophie looked down at the ground, unable to meet her elders gaze, holding a nondescript carrier bag in her hand. She was dressed much more conservatively today, wearing the same pair of joggers and a large pink hoodie that covered her body almost completely, arms crossed over her chest defensively. Wilfs mind flashed back to her wet top, barely containing her perky breasts from the day before, snapping himself out of it in order to greet her.

"Hi Sophie," Wilf said, a little nervously, but doing his best to conceal it.

"Hi Wilf," she replied, still unable to look him in the eye, "Thanks for lending the top to me." She stuck out her hand, offering him the carrier bag. "I didn't wash it or anything, I hope that's ok."

"That's fine Sophie," he replied, taking the bag from her gently, doing his best to avoid any skin to skin contact. "Do you want to come in?"

Sophie nodded softly, looking up at him, their eyes meeting for the first time before she looked away and then followed him inside the house. Entering the living room, Wilf put the carrier bag down on the sofa before turning to face Sophie. He needed to handle this with care, they were both still clearly feeling a little unsure after what had happened yesterday.

"So, I was thinking you could focus on the kitchen and living room today, as they are the rooms I use the most?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Sophie answered as her eyes darted around the room erratically, "I'll start in the kitchen." Before Wilf could even respond, she had already left the room, apparently intent on getting this over with as quickly as possible. Tempted to follow her, Wilf decided against it and instead went up to his bedroom to return his beloved wifes top back to its proper home. As he hung it back in place, he talked to the picture of Denise. "I hope you don't mind me letting her borrow it sweetie, I couldn't exactly let her go home in that wet blouse," he explained. As he gently ran his fingers along all her clothes, he couldn't resist leaning forwards to smell them, his nostrils acting as a passageway back to a time when Denise was still with him. He had deliberately left this wardrobe exactly as it was, like a time capsule that he could use whenever he needed to feel close to her. Kissing his wife's picture, he made his way back downstairs and continued working on the jigsaw that had managed to so quickly capture his attention.