Don't Call Me Grandpa
My Grandpa was there when I needed him most. It was he who taught me that,
"When one erotic door closes... another one opens."
Note - Story references: consensual incest, older male, younger female, pregnancy, oral sex
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My name is Emmy, Emmy Laurence.
Monroe Simonson and I had been friends since we were in middle school. Eventually, he became my fiancé, and even though we were together all through high school, to his credit and because of his love for me, we had promised each other not to have sex until we were married.
Jake Laurence is my grandfather. I loved my Grandpa dearly, and I think he may have been the most important person in my life when I was growing up. He was a good, decent man, and partly out of respect for him, I had decided to keep myself pure until after marriage and eagerly shared this resolve with him. Don't think for a minute that Monroe and I were "goodie two shoes" or anything like that because we weren't. Because we had grown up in the same neighborhood, Monroe knew my Grandpa. It was early in my senior year, a little while after my eighteenth birthday that I became aware that Monroe, the big, handsome, popular school athlete, was seeking out other girls to have sex with... the love of my life was cheating on me.
Of course, I was crushed and felt my life was over. I was so angry and hurt that I could not find it in my heart to forgive him, so we broke up. Monroe went his way, and I reluctantly went mine. My folks knew how much I loved Monroe and encouraged me to use this time to focus on my education and plans for after graduation.
My Grandpa Jake and I had always had a very special relationship, and I told him everything that had happened between Monroe and me and sought his advice and guidance. Loving and thoughtful, my Grandpa though he was sad to see me so upset about Monroe; he was also secretly pleased with the breakup. I think he saw Monroe as a threat to his influence over me and, on more than one occasion, had cautioned me against "letting that boy fuck you" and saying things like, "I'm not that old... I see how he looks at you and tries to touch you, Emmy." Yes, those were his words; Grandpa Jake had always been unashamedly blunt and direct with me regarding just about everything. So it was with relief that Grandpa received the news of my breakup with Monroe.
Our breakup lasted almost six months, a difficult time for me, filled with tears and the pain of seeing Monroe with other girls. And then, Monroe called one night "just to talk," and we must have talked through most of the night. Strange as it might sound, we picked up right where we left off. Shortly after we got back together, we began having oral sex. It was wonderful. Almost three weeks after graduation, we had long-delayed sex for the first time. I had promised myself that it wouldn't happen until we were married, but it seemed to me that this was the right time. How could I have waited so long for this? I was a virgin, and Monroe had been my first. He was patient and thoughtful and showed me how incredible sex could be between two people who loved each other.
Nine months after graduating high school, Monroe was drafted into the Army, and within another six months, he lay dead in a rice field in the middle of the Phuoc Tuy Province in Viet Nam.
*****
Grandpa Jake and I had always had a more than conventional grandfather and granddaughter relationship. As much as I had loved Monroe, I realized that I loved my Grandpa Jake in a different, more meaningful way. After learning of Monroe's death, I was lost, depressed, and desperate for affection. Still, it wasn't until Grandpa understood how emotionally vulnerable and how much I needed his strength and support that our relationship began to change, subtly at first but eventually in a more intimate sense. My Grandpa Jake filled that void and helped me find my way out of that lonely darkness created by Monroe's death. Looking back, I think I was the one who not so innocently instigated that change.
I don't think my folks ever realized the different way Grandpa and I began to interact with each other or that we were spending more and more time together. He was restrained and circumspect in public, but in private, he would kiss me on my mouth and eventually would discretely comfort me with his hand while whispering words of reassurance, even when others were nearby. Surprised and embarrassed initially, I appreciated his demonstrations of emotional love and physical sensuality.
As I said before, I think what might be the strangest thing about what happened between us is that I was the initiator. Usually, it is the older man who seduces, the younger woman, but in this case, in the beginning, before I had second thoughts, I was the one who made up my mind that I wanted him, that I wanted more from him.
Grandpa Jake was a healthy, vital man who had closed off his heart when his wife died a little over ten years ago. He had moved in with our family, not because of financial or health issues but because my folks were concerned about his emotional health. I think a lot of his attention was focused on me, and in time, I began to turn to him for support, affection, and intimacy. Please, please don't blame him. In my neediness, I guess you could say I seduced him... and you would be right.
*****
My bedroom was muggy and hot. My large oversized t-shirt clung to my damp, sweaty skin, making it even more difficult to sleep. I pulled it over my head and tossed it to the foot of the bed, and I lay naked on the bed in the dark room, thinking about Grandpa, trying to suppress the incestuous feelings that I was quickly developing for him. I finally got up, intending to go downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of cold water. I walked down the hall toward the stairs and paused at his partially opened door. There on the bed was Grandpa Jake, with the covers piled on the floor, his eyes closed and his mouth half open as he moved his hand up and down over his cock.
I pushed the door open a little more. I stood in shocked silence, unable to believe what I was seeing. I couldn't tear my eyes away as Grandpa stroked his long, thick cock.
Caught up in the moment, I impulsively asked, "Can I help you with that?"
When his eyes flew open, I continued to stand near his bed, smiling shyly.
He didn't try to hide himself but simply said "no" in a quivering voice. Ignoring his response, I sat at the edge of his bed and lay down beside him. Any shame or fear I might have felt disappeared as I placed my hand over his. He was obviously confused and didn't know what he should be feeling, but the soft warmth of my hand convinced him to let me help him. Grandpa Jake began to relax as my fingers caressed and teased him. We lay there, our bodies touching intimately, and I could feel his eyes traveling over me. I could feel his excitement growing, getting harder.
Leaning forward, I softly ran my tongue across his lips. He parted his lips, and I slipped my tongue into his mouth and kissed him for the first time, a warm, sweet kiss I would never forget.
As Grandpa Jake lay on the bed, I let my hand trail up and down his cock shaft before taking it and encircling my hand around it. I slowly started to masturbate him, lovingly, sensually stroking him. I felt his growing arousal and, in a short while, could see droplets of pre-cum form and glisten on his cockhead. Getting onto my knees, I leaned down and kissed the tip of his cock. His body stiffened, and I quickly pulled my mouth away, thinking he was about to cum. The look on his face was heart-wrenching, and I again lowered my mouth onto his cock, slowly sliding down his length until his crown began to ease into my throat. With each stroke, I could feel his cockhead brush across the roof of my mouth, and my throat tightened around it. Grandpa Jake began to groan softly and gently thrust into my mouth. He entwined his hands in my hair as he started to stroke and murmur guiltily, "I'm going to cum, Emmy... god help me, I'm going to cum."
I lowered my head and opened my mouth, taking the head of his cock into it and sliding my lips down over its crown. He was trying desperately to hold back; finally lifting my head, I whispered, "it's okay, Grandpa, it's okay."
My head bobbed up and down over his cock as I took him deeper into my throat, and I squeezed his now hard, swollen balls, my wet lips sliding over his length. Unable to hold back any longer, Grandpa Jake thrust his hips forward and released a stream of creamy white cum that filled my mouth and oozed from its corners. With my hands on his hips, I held him close until he had finished cumming. I gently cleaned him, licking and sucking his cock until he eased my mouth away from him.
Grandpa sat on the side of the bed as I knelt between his legs. When I looked up, I saw tears brimming in his eyes. I could feel his legs quivering as he sighed deeply, immersed in the afterglow of his orgasm.
"Grandpa... Grandpa, what's wrong? Oh my God, what's wrong," I asked, the panic evident in my voice.
"We shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have let that happen," Grandpa Jake said.
"No, I wanted to do this for you, with you, I said. It's all I've been thinking about for a long time. I wanted to make you happy and show you how I felt. I love you, Grandpa. Please, don't feel bad... I needed to do this."
Grandpa Jake looked down at me, and we began to kiss. He pulled me onto the bed with him. Then his tongue explored my pussy, flicking across my tiny clit, bringing little jolts of pleasure to my body. I felt his teeth gently nibbling at my clit, and I went wild with desire. Grandpa Jake was getting hard again, and as I reached down and began to fondle him, he slipped his hand between my legs and brought me to orgasm. It was wonderful. "That's my little girl, he said."
We both dozed, and hours later, as the sun started filtering into his room, he woke me and had me go to my room before my Mom and Dad awoke. As I left the room, he kissed me and said, "We can't let this happen again, Emmy."
But it did happen again.
*****
It was disconcerting that my thoughts of Monroe had been replaced with thoughts of my Grandpa Jake. It had been almost a week since we had enjoyed oral sex, and though it was difficult, I knew staying away from him was the best thing we could do. I thought about him during the day and dreamed about him at night, often waking from sexually intense dreams during which I had orgasmed in my sleep, waking exhausted, satisfied, wet, and sticky between my legs. At the time, I didn't realize that Grandpa was experiencing the same sensations and was just as disturbed by them as I was.
