This series of short stories chronicles the journey of Ashleigh with her friends and relations, as she explores her sexuality, and progresses from teenage sex to the wider reaches of sexual behaviour. They are written from different points of view, to give insight into how the experiences influence the individual characters.
Read the whole set of stories for a better understanding of the characters' motivation and personality, and watch their exploits unfold with people of both sexes, in single and group situations and within their families.
I love my grandmother to bits – always have done – always will do. I visit her often, she's different. Almost every other grandmother I've met seems to have given up on life in their old age and is running to fat; with sensibly cut short grey hair, no makeup, and wearing clothes that have seen better days.
My grandmother is tall and slim; her hair is long, dyed and streaked to hide the grey, and worn in a ponytail most of the time; her generous mouth gives her a warm smile; she always wears lipstick, and mascara and jewellery; and her wide hazel eyes are filled with experience. She dresses fashionably and looks at least ten years younger than her sixty plus years.
She's never married but has lots of friends, many of whom go back years, so she is never without a companion. From what my mother says, I know she's got lots of stories to tell me. I always hoped she'd confide in me when I get old enough.
I spent much of my childhood with my grandmother, especially in those periods when my mother went off on one of her "benders" with the latest man, or woman, in her life. Some of my best memories are cuddling up with my grandmother in her bed, feeling safe and warm wrapped in her arms.
"Did you take my advice?" Grandma asked as we settled on her settee with a coffee in our hands. "You know, about moving on from boys of your own age and finding an older man with more experience."
"That's why I'm here ... to tell you all about it before I go to university ... just like you asked me."
"I want every detail, you know."
"Grandma, you are a rogue."
"I told you to call me Linda when we meet up as girls, remember?"
"OK, but I hope you're not trying to relive your youth through me, Linda."
"Certainly not ... now you are a grown woman ... I just want you to get the most out of my experience ... and not make the same mistakes as me."
We sat side by side, not quite touching, sipping our drinks, looking into the steam rising from our mugs. In those early days, there was still a slight feeling of unease. We were family, after all.
Not that being family daunted me where my mother and my brother were concerned. Sex with them was terrific and regular. Now we'd broken through the voodoo barrier, I couldn't wait to jump into bed with them, as a twosome or a threesome.
With Linda, there was unfinished business that stretched back to my early childhood. A little secret she'd never allowed me to speak about. I hoped the moment to discuss it was close – and it would take our relationship to new heights – but it was up to her to open the subject, not me.
"OK ... let's start with the easy stuff," Linda said, "what's his name ... do I know him ... where did you meet?"
"He's called John and we met at the wedding, so you have met him, if only briefly."
"I remember him ... tall, slim, dark hair, late thirties ... your mother was interested in him ... so he must have potential."
"He's not like any of the boys I've dated in the past ... and such a gentleman ... he didn't dive on me at the first opportunity like boys usually do ... he just took it steady ... and took me much further than I'd been before."
I felt her stir alongside me and the heat from her body as she squirmed a little in her seat. We moved closer together. I was pleased. This was turning out to be easier than I imagined but, with our little secret, I shouldn't have been surprised.
"I knew you were ready for an older man, Ashleigh ... trust me ... I know these things."
"You are sure you want to hear every detail, aren't you?"
"Of course I am ... It's exactly what I want to hear ... just keep going ... you can't shock me ... or upset me ... or tell me anything I've not heard before."
"John was in no hurry to get started ... just the opposite," I said, searching for the words to explain to her without describing the sex explicitly. After all, she was my grandmother. Despite her encouragement and wanting me to call her Linda, the chasm of the generation gap still yawned between us.
"Yes ... get on with it ... what happened next?" she asked impatiently.
"Well ... he undressed me slowly ... when I thought we would get on with it, he got me to do the same to him ... and strung it out for ages."
"He was probably playing with you ... testing your reactions."
I stopped again, needing to make sure Linda was happy about discussing the really intimate details. She turned and looked me straight in the eyes.
"I understand this is difficult ... but just keep going ... think of me as Linda ... your friend ... not a relation."
"Yes, but ... you know ... I'm much younger than you."
"And I'm much older than you ... and have experienced all this ... and love the fact that my little girl is now a grown woman ... and experiencing it herself."
"It's still difficult for me."
"Don't worry, Ashleigh ... I did everything you're doing when I was your age ... and I hope you're finding it as exciting as I did."
"Where did I get a grandmother like you?"
"It's all in your genes, Ashleigh ... the women of our family are all the same ... you inherited it from me, so it seems obvious that we should share it."
"Have you shared this sort of stuff with my mother?"
"Why? Have you?"
I tried not to blush, but felt my face warming up beneath my makeup, and decided to ignore the question. There was no way I would ever divulge what went on in bed with my mother – some things just have to stay secret.
"I started by sucking his dick," I said, checking her reaction before continuing, not wanting to upset anything between us, ready to stop.
She didn't flinch, so I kept going. "Then he took me into the bedroom ... I thought, this is it ... he'll jump on me now ... but he didn't."
"He sounds like the perfect lover, Ashleigh ... I hate the fast fuck and fuck off types."
Her language made me think. I'd never heard her speak like that before. It encouraged me to keep going and not to worry about upsetting her.
"He laid me back and shaved off my pubic hair! The cheeky bastard told me my hair was like a pan scrub and would scratch his face to pieces."
I laughed and remembered how soft and sexy my cunt felt that first time I was shaved – and how I keep it like that all the time now – and how I'd love Linda to run her fingers over it, her tongue too.
"Then he opened my legs wider than I'd ever done before ... and sunk his tongue deep inside my cunt."
Linda's body wriggled against mine, the intimate details of my first time with John clearly exciting her. I still wondered where all this was taking us. But, whenever I hesitated, she urged me for more – as if she was enjoying my experiences as much as me.
"You're a very naughty girl, Ashleigh ... and very lucky," she said, grabbing my arm and giggling. "I was just the same as you when I was your age ... I'll tell you later what we got up to in the sixties."
"It was the first time a man gave me an orgasm ... and I've never reached a climax from penetration alone ... so the fucking afterwards was better than I'd ever experienced."
"To top it off ... he covered me in cum ... from my cunt to my face ... the dirty bastard."
"I love the taste of cum, Ashleigh."
"You're just an older version of me," I said, realising this was easier than I imagined, and was so pleased. "I'd love to hear the stories of your sex life."
"Later ... I want to know what you and John did next."
"We licked cum off each other ... and swallowed it all down ... and fell asleep ... exhausted."
"I woke him up by sucking his dick and his balls ... and had him ready to fuck again in no time ... but he wanted to experiment with me ... and found my G-spot up my cunt and brought me to orgasm again ... it was wonderful."
"Make sure you hang onto John ... there aren't many men like him in the world."
"Then he started on my arsehole," I said, squirming slightly in my seat as I could still feel the abuse from my gang bang the previous Saturday night.
At that, she almost jumped out of the seat, as if she could feel his eight and three quarter inch dick up her own arse. She settled down with her breasts firmly pressed against the side of mine.
She was right about the genes. For the first time I realised that Linda's breasts and mine were the same: large and round and with plenty of cleavage to be shown when the occasion demanded. Imagine how pleased I felt to realise that hers were still in good condition. It gave me hope for the future.
"Don't stop," she said, as I contemplated her breasts, "I want to know what happened next."
"He turned me over and pushed my face into the pillow ... my arse in the air ... then her smeared me with lubricant before fucking me up the arse with his fingers."
Linda's breasts started heaving with excitement. I could no longer hold back the desire to touch their softness. So, I reached up her jumper, inside her bra, and took her left breast in my right hand. She didn't look up or murmur. She just put her hand on top of mine and squeezed, encouraging me not to stop.
"It never seems fair to me that boys get all the fun," I said, turning to look directly at her. "Breasts are beautiful things and deserve to be caressed and fondled by girls as well as boys ... don't you think?"
"I've always loved everything about the female body, Ashleigh."
