I had worked overseas for a number of years for the government in Italy. It was idyllic. I had a house near the beach and work was about 10km away. We typically worked 12 hour days so I usually worked four days followed by three days off. I had it in my mind to stay there for many years. But then one day I got word from home that my grandfather had suddenly died from a stroke and I was needed at home to help. I took an extended leave of absence figuring I'd need at least a month and probably more.
It was July 1975 and I got home just in time for my grandfather's funeral. Grandpa was only 75 and as far as anyone had known he was the vision of health. He wasn't a sedentary person involving himself with golf and racquetball after having retired four years prior. He was my mother's father and they had the long life genes as opposed to my father's side who didn't. The funeral was quite heavily attended. Grandpa had been a highly respected merchant in our town and was known for his generosity. I constantly heard stories of how he helped people through the hard times of the depression. As a teen I'd gotten to the point where I didn't want to hear the stories any more and Grammy overheard me saying this to my sister one day. She always knew exactly the right thing to say and I remember her telling me that she too was a little weary of his stories or more correctly visitors who came to their home and evicting the stories from him. Stories he was always willing to tell in great detail.
I loved my grandparents so I got over myself relatively quickly. And actually, it was grandpa who right after I graduated from college suggested I take job overseas for the tax breaks and because he thought I could build up a sizeable savings account. Little did he know of my propensity for having parties and even though he was right about the large income I could realize I was also more than capable of only being able to live from paycheck to paycheck. I mean I did manage to put a little away but not nearly what I could have and that little was just enough to cover the expense of returning home for his funeral. As I withdrew the money to cover the airfare and other expenses I felt guilty that he had given me such good advice and I had chosen to largely ignore it. I felt a bit of a failure.
When I got home my parents' house was filled with my sister and two aunts and two uncles so mom had arranged for me to stay with Grammy. I didn't mind in the least. Grammy had always been really nice to me. She always made me feel special. At home mom always made what dad wanted for supper but Grammy always made what I wanted and she was quite the good cook too. She had attended a girl's finishing school that doubled for a college which she assured me was society's way of preparing a woman to be a wife in those days. But Grammy had been rebellious taking after my great-grandmother, her mother, who had been suffragette. My great-grandmother had claimed to have been a friend of Margaret Sanger and an acquaintance of Emma Goldman. She had never been able to show any actual proof that either was true but her stories, as told by Grammy, were really interesting.
Grammy told me one day after she and grandpa had gone to a performance by Sally Rand they had danced naked in the moonlight behind their house. That performance, according to Grammy, Ms. Rand, doing her famous fan dance, had bared her breast in a Boston theater during the performance. Grammy said it was hilarious but Boston society wasn't quite so kind. That was in 1932 or 1933, her memory of the year wasn't quite so good, and she said they had gotten pretty drunk that night on some bathtub gin. Grandpa had tried to brew his own beer in the cellar but had only succeeded in blowing up the cellar one night and waking all the neighbors. Grammy said bootleggers were less dangerous than grandpa. When grandpa suggested he could safely switch to making wine Grammy suggested he find a new house in which to do it. So that's how Grammy had been and in my memory of her she had always been. Everyone loved Grammy. A lot of kids who were of course not related to her called her Grammy. She was just that sort of person. But when the town proposed shutting down one of the playgrounds so a housing subdivision could be built she invaded the monthly town meeting and before the meeting was done you couldn't find a soul who'd admit to ever having supported the closure.
The first couple of days back home were extremely full with the funeral and a lot of running around. I stayed in Grammy's guest room. She and grandpa had bought a condominium shortly after he retired. It wasn't one of those places that had once been apartments and then converted. It was built as a condo. It actually had three floors if you counted the garage area. Each condo had its own garage and above that was the living room, dining room and kitchen and then the top floor were the bedrooms, bathroom and a storage room.
I helped Grammy remove grandpa's clothes and take them to Goodwill. She said many women would hang onto such things for years but it would just hurt too much for her to do that and she knew she needed to move on. She did have a lot of pictures out in the living room of she and grandpa when they were younger. She even had their wedding picture out. I took some time to look really closely at them, something I had never done. When I looked really closely at their wedding picture I thought how young she looked in it, much younger than grandpa. Later that day I asked my mom about that and she said Grammy was barely 16 when she married grandpa who was 27 at the time. My mother declined to talk any further about it though even though I pressed her for a few answers. So later that day I asked Grammy and she was not surprisingly very forthcoming. She told me she had gotten pregnant but not by grandpa. The boy who had gotten her pregnant, a high school classmate, had denied he done anything or that it could be his child. Grandpa had become aware of the situation through my great grandfather who for some reason great granddad had thought could be helpful. He had visited Grammy several times and then had taken her to a doctor who didn't know her family. But in her fourth month of pregnancy she had a miscarriage which was taken care of very privately even though it was done at a nearby hospital. It seems grandpa had certain connections. Grammy, though saddened, was touched from the first by his kindness and how he had not only never judged her but hadn't even asked who the father was. She said he went about it as if he were her husband and like it was the most natural thing to do. Grammy said she fell in love with him because of that and as it turned out, of course, he had had an eye for her.
The first few nights I heard Grammy crying in her bedroom. I wanted to go in and say something but I didn't have a clue what to say or even if I should do it. On the fourth night I felt I had to do something so I knocked on her door and she called for me to come in.
"Grammy, is there anything I can do?"
She had been in bed and under the covers with her back to me when I entered so I walked around the bed to her. Grammy wiped her tears, smiled and reached out with both her arms. It was a bit awkward but I bent down and gave her the hug she desired. "Oh honey, I wish there were but thank you."
She hugged me for a few moments more and then let go. As I stood up I said, "Grammy, if there's anything I can do just say so."
Grammy smiled her usual smile and then said, "Well, would you mind lying here with me for a few minutes and just talking to your old grandmother?"
"Oh grammy, you're not old!" I said that half believing it but only half. After all, she was 64 which to a 25 year old is almost ancient, at least as I saw it. But my grandmother had taken pretty good care of herself. She didn't look matronly although she wasn't the skinny girl she had once been.
"That's sweet of you to say but I am old."
I had always loved my grandmother's smile and she'd had these expressive eyes that either thrilled us all or scared us half to death. It was much more of the former than the latter of course. It was at that moment I first noticed, however, that her eyes weren't just expressive but they were actually still quite beautiful. Still, I didn't know quite what to say so I said, "Well, you look pretty good to me Grammy."
"Thank you honey," Grammy said as she hugged me closely. Grammy had pushed the covers slightly to the side and I could feel her full breasts pressing against my chest. In the first instant I felt ashamed but then other things took over and I felt a twinge of arousal. I couldn't believe I could feel this was from my own grandmother's touch but there it was.
Grammy's hug lingered and then she asked, "Do you mind my hugging you? It feels very comforting."
How could I say no, so I said, "of course not. We can hug as long as you want." Okay, that second part was me wanting to feel her breasts against me some more and it was coupled with me feeling very guilty about that. Grammy snuggled inward a little and I could feel her relaxing.
"You grandfather was really good about this. Whenever I'd get upset about something at bedtime he would hold me until I let it go. Let me tell you, he was a man of great patience because I seldom let go of anything quickly." I turned my head to say something to her but as I turned she said, "thank you for being so understanding" and instead of kissing me on the cheek as she desired she kissed me on the lips. We were equally surprised by this turn of events even though grammy had many times kissed me on the lips it had never been quite this way.
"Oh, I'm sorry honey," she said.
"It's okay grammy," I said trying to be sympathetic and understanding at the same time. "It's not like that's never happened before," I said trying to make light of it.
For a few moments we both lay there very still but then Grammy started running her hand through the back of my hair and said, "Thank you for being so understanding." That's all she did but it was enough coupled with the feel of her body next to mine to sufficiently arouse me. I had become quite hard and my hardness was pressing into her thigh. I lay as still as possible praying this woman of great experience wouldn't notice.
A few minutes later Grammy kissed me on my forehead and said, "Thank you honey. You've been really comforting but you must be exhausted."
"Okay Grammy but if you need me just say so, any time." I was getting up from her bed as I said this and she thanked me and told me how sweet I was as she pulled the covers back around her.
I didn't hear her cry again and over the next week neither of us said anything about that evening. Sometimes when we'd have supper together I thought I felt a sort of sexual tension between us but quickly dismissed it as a sign of my sick mind. This was my grandmother, after all, so of course she didn't think that way.
One Saturday morning I had awakened a little later than I usually did and all I could feel was my extremely full bladder. I got up quickly and rushed to the bathroom. I was all the way inside and about to pull cock out of my underpants when I saw my grandmother lying in the bath tub. There was a look of shock on her face and so I blurted out, "Oh I'm so sorry Grammy. I just had to pee so bad. I wasn't thinking." I was blushing every shade of red possible.
