Gram Tish and Me

The thing about my grandmother is here insatiable lust for twenty-something pussy. The old girl is loaded which makes her choice in partners absolutely unlimited. Case is point is her latest liaison with Tish Mendez. Tish is a lingerie model Gram saw in a catalog. A few phone calls later, and Tish Mendez arrived in Eastern North Carolina wearing the Winter Fantasia bra and panty set she had modeled for the holiday issue.

When I arrived home from my work with the Crisis Center, Tish Mendez was sitting astride Gram’s prize sybian machine, her lean thighs clutching the machine while her face worked the fold of Gram’s pussy and her hands worked Grams ass. Gram had her head thrown back, eyes closed with a smile on her face. My Gram is a beautiful woman, with thick, white hair always coiffed and her face always made up to perfection. She stands about 5’9” with narrow shoulders and hips, a thin frame, and huge implants which she insisted upon when she couldn’t ignore the sag anymore. I put my briefcase down and shrugged my coat off into Herbert’s waiting arms. I smiled at Gram’s butler and nodded into the other room. “How long has this been going on?”

Herbert frowned thoughtfully. “I believe Miss Tish arrived a bit after ten this morning. At one they had a soak in the tub and some lunch. I’d say it was around three thirty when they moved the festivities into here.”

“Thanks, Herbert.” I moved into the front receiving room, wrapping my arms around Gram and giving her a hug and a kiss on the neck. “You old harlot,” I teased, massaging her big, fake breasts.

“Mmm, girl, that feels good,” Gram, murmured, opening her eyes and craning her neck to place a proper kiss on my lips. I returned her kiss, one of those slow, lingering hello kisses lovers exchange after a long separation. When I was eighteen, I moved in with my Gram while I attended college. After graduation, I moved into the master suite. Gram and I had an open relationship, in a manner of speaking. Gram and I both look upon our relationship as that of a marriage. I assure you, they do not make corporate wives like Gram anymore.

“Baby Girl,” Gram declared, as she took Tish’s hair up in her hands and ground her face against the young woman’s mouth, “this girl here knows how to fuck and seems to enjoy it all.” With that, Gram bucked once, twice, three times, until she flooded the girl’s face with her own juice. Gram being Gram, she pushed the girl away from her, nearly knocking her off the machine. Tish began to furiously hump the machine, clenching it tight and bending over to get a deeper penetration. Moaning loudly and beginning to pant, Tish let out a scream as her beautiful body rippled with pleasure. She was a perfect honey blonde, with deeply tanned skin and dark blonde hair. Her pussy was shaved clean and her hips, though slim, were rounded and her tits were the plump and pink tipped. She was a beautiful woman.

I myself am a broad-shoulder woman, with big hips, tits and thighs. I stand just shy of six feet and accentuated my hourglass figure with scalloped skirts and ruffled shirts. My hair is blue-black, my eyes are darkest blue, and my complexion is milky. I wear my hair in a curling mass that hangs down to my waist. And, though I look upon Gram as my wife, I am an equal opportunity fuck, fucking pretty much whomever asks at least once.

One the other hand, since I do look upon Gram as my wife, I always get these irrational impulses when she brings her whores home. I honestly do not know what gets into me. I unbuttoned my cuffs before hauling my arm back and knowing Miss Tish Mendez, underwear model, right the fuck off the sybian machine. I finished unbuttoning my shirt, handing it to Herbert, before stepping out of my shoes and skirt and handing them over to Herbert. When Tish started to stand up, I hauled my arm back and knocked her to the floor. “No higher than your knees, bitch,” I said quietly, walking over to the cherry wood high boy. With the dexterity that comes with frequency, I had myself strapped with my favorite 13” black, vibrating latex dong and my riding crop clutched lightly in my hand.

Tish was crying. She was sitting on her splayed knees, with her face in her hands. My pussy was humming with desire. With a swivel of my hips, I hit her on the side of her face with my prick. “Suck it, bitch,” I ordered. Tish raised her arm to push me away and like lightning, I cropped her arm. Lowering my head next to her ear, I said casually, “I can make it so you don’t model for a very long time with just a few hits to your face.” Planting my legs wide, I ordered, “Suck it, bitch,” and felt the power swell into my clit as the beautiful supermodel scrambled, on hands and knees, across the tile floor to take my prick in her mouth.

She used plenty of mouth and hand, bobbing her head rhythmically, slowing her pace for a few moments each time I pushed more of my prick down her throat. Half inch by half inch I pushed my prick down her throat, slowing when she pushed me away until her mouth got used to the stuffing. I cropped each ass cheek alternately, murmuring, “Very good, Tish,” or “That’s perfect, Tish” making Tish wiggle and play with herself.

When she managed to gobble all thirteen inches into her throat, I dropped the crop, grabbed her ears, and pounded her mouth steadily until I came. Deciding to give back a little to Gram’s latest whore, I sat on the chesterfield and turned her over my knee. Leaning back, I began to crop her ass, watching it turn from pink, to red, to a bright, screaming purple. Tish rubbed herself against my thigh, bringing herself to orgasm after orgasm until my arm grew tired.

Pushing Tish off my lap, I watched her lay sprawled on the floor before me, softly sobbing and spent. My clit took over, and I found myself picking her up by the hips and brutally shoving myself into her ass with one shove. As she screamed, I found strength in my arms and began pounding her ass against my prick watching her body flop in front of me.

Soon I was kneeling on the floor with Tish’s ass before me. I balanced my feet on her lower back and began to thump her ass in earnest, all my concentration located on burying my cock as deep as in-humanly possible. Together, the supermodel and I crested, screaming in unison. I blinked my eyes a couple times, taking in the sight of Herbert holding the lights and Gram holding the camera.

“Baby Girl,” Gram said, putting on the drawl for our waiting website audience, “nobody puts on a finer performance than you.” I rolled off of Tish, who followed my prick greedily, crawling over my legs to begin licking my prick clean. Clicking off the lights and camera, Gram said, “O-Kay, you girls have forty-five minutes until we have to leave for the Free Clinic’s fund raiser. Go upstairs and make yourselves beautiful. And, Tish, we’ll go over the paperwork one more time before you leave if you like.”

And with that, I helped Tish to her feet and led her upstairs to my suite. Tish grabbed my hand and asked me wonderingly, “Did you know your grandmother was going to film us?” I laughed at her innocence.