AUTHOR'S NOTE: I want to take just a moment to say Thank You to the folks that sent comments on Part l of this series. Most were positive and even those less favourable at least struck a conciliatory note. I will refer to one in particular, the writer saying they'd skipped parts of the sex scenes because "They seemed . . . a little bogged down in minutiae." Again, thank you, and while that may be the case, Holly (and please excuse her for this) is a bit of a detail freak and really likes to 'set things up.' She struggles to just lay out the bare facts: "We got in bed, did it, and both came. It was good." However, I will see if I can't encourage her to tighten up the story line a wee bit going forward (although this episode may not prove to be the best example of that). Great to hear from you! Keep your comments/suggestions coming.
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She was old even back then; a derelict, fat and squat and in the eyes of most, ugly (the word used if the viewer happened to be feeling benevolent. But PopPop's eyes were different, and though people said he was crazy he was certain she was worthy of salvation. When he found her hiding in an equally derelict shed on the Sunshine Coast, forgotten and forlorn, PopPop used a vision shaped by compassion and love -- a look I know intimately -- to see beyond her rough shell. With his determined attitude, he committed to giving her back a useful life; certain he could fix whatever was broken.
His love affair with Miss Suzy began little more than a year after his wife had died suddenly of an undiagnosed cancer, and almost a year to the day before I was born to his teenaged daughter. He tried to connect the mother's death to the daughter's acting out and has never spoke badly of her even though, after popping me out -- I was apparently a quick birth, she promptly dropped me in his lap and just as promptly disappeared. PopPop's life was suddenly quite complicated and neglect (unintentional as it was) was again the bane of Miss Suzy.
But tonight, two decades plus since his eyes first saw her and his mind dreamed of what could be, I lay wrapped in the warming embrace of this marvelous man and that of Miss Suzy. Once an unwanted derelict, this old tug has been lovingly rebuilt, painted, stained and polished over many years. Her diesel heart thrums a soothing beat and she rocks us in the gentle swell of a rising tide. Outside, spring has blustered in with a last gasp dump of wet, weighty snow but we know not of its presence and would not care if we did.
A glance at the clock shows it's almost 4AM, and rolling over and up to sit astride his hips, the bed clothes fall away. The chill in the cabin goes unnoticed, Each tick of the clock is a measure of his growing hardness and my pussy releases a wetness to welcome his fat cock's entry. As I synch my movements with those of Miss Suzy there's an almost imperceptible shudder through the hull; an indication perhaps that the old gal knows her rocking plays a significant role in the pleasures being enjoyed by this granddaughter and her PopPop.
Though I rode him slowly, rhythmically, concentrating on making our coupling last, I still pulled the trigger three times; wallowing in shuddering waves of release with each. Shortly after number three we maneuvered our bodies to begin a 69 session that brought us both the ultimate happy ending. My mouth filled with warm cum, I swirled the globs with my tongue to savour the tangy taste before swallowing. PopPop licked me clean then rimmed my asshole as a final gift. Now, ask me why I love him!
The morning sun was doing good job of chasing the shadows from the surrounding mountains, and standing in the galley I watched through a porthole as an eagle glided across the glass-like surface of Rock Inlet and snatched a fat salmon. We were about to make the quick jaunt across to Shearwater for fuel before settling for a nine hour crawl up the Dean Channel to Miss Suzy's berth in Bella Coola. (Like a lot of BBW, she's more about comfort and less about speed!) We'd spend another night onboard before tackling the 10-hour drive home.
Sleeping in the next morning was nice, but it meant a late start and so darkness was well established when we pulled into the driveway. Other than a cooler packed with ice and our ocean catch, everything else was being left in the truck. Gear could be stowed and laundry done later.
Entering through the side door, directly into the kitchen, I flicked on the light and stopped cold at the sight of dirty dishes in the sink and the makings for a PB&J sandwich on the table. PopPop came up behind me and voiced my thoughts exactly: "What the fuck . . . .?"
Like in that familiar tale, a quick search led us to find 'Goldilocks' sleeping the sleep of the just in our bed. But big difference: The fairy tale's flaxen-haired beauty had been supplanted by be a wild and randy brunette who, prodded awake, loudly proclaimed she was "just warmin' the sheets in case, maybe . . .?" My BFF Sara was on scene and totally ready to make the hours ahead exciting and enjoyable, thank you very much! For two people dog-tired from a day-long drive, this gal was determined to make us forget about sleep.
When PopPop and I had first talked about having Sara come visit, I'd told him about some of her unique "skills" while emphasizing my intent to seriously limit her one-on-one action with him. To be clear, Sara and I have been buds for some time and so she's known PopPop, whom she endearingly calls 'Pops,' just as long. She moved away on an "I'm gonna be a rock star" quest (but instead emerged as a now much sought after studio musician), and though we talk constantly -- at least a couple of time a week -- her visits have been few and far between. Those reunions have been special, intimate, "us girls" times that trace back to my first "Sara eats my pussy" experience that produced an absolutely amazing orgasm, the memory of which still kick-starts my juices.
Reaching into her bag, Sara produced a small flat tin containing a nice selection of tightly rolled doobies. A flick of her lighter soon had us sharing hits of (she called it) 'Sour Diesel.' Its aroma and somewhat pungent taste proved the name pretty accurate. "This shit'll kick up yur energy level by more than a notch or two," she stated, adding "and your cravings for 'sweet thangs' will go way up as well."' We mellowed, only a little, before the promised effects took hold.
