Hello my name is Heather. I am 18 years old and I am a slut. I am a huge rampant cock whore of the utmost proportions. I wasn't always, in fact just a few short weeks ago I was a normal girl, actually I was still virginus intactus. I had just graduated high school and went to work for the summer before I started Cosmetology school. I wasn't too keen on an office job or working fast food. I hated the thought of being stuck inside all summer. I didn't think I would find anything, and then my Grampa offered me a deal; I would be his Gal Friday. Run errands, chauffeur him and his buddies around, and provide him with a hostess or pretty young escort when he needed one. Anyway that was me all for the wonderful price of him paying for my school, and giving me $ 400 a week. I was on that deal like makeup on a drag queen.
I'm guessing that at his point you would like to know what I look like since you can't really see me. Well I'm kinda short. I hit 5'4" if I go to the right doctor. I weigh 109 pounds. I would be considered petite if not for three things. My right tit, my left tit and my ass. I have LONG honey blond hair that reaches almost to the back of my knees. It is thick and shiny, and one of my top five features. I have a thicker waist, but my tummy is flat with just a hint of definition to my abs. I have a bubble butt, a ghetto booty. Which would be perfect if I weren't blonde with green eyes...lol. My Breasts match my butt, voluptuous, full and quite the eye magnet. The last of my top five features is my stems. My legs are just great, slightly muscular, very toned, and longer than they should be...they look fan-fucking-tastic in heels.
My grampa isn't your typical average grandfather. He is only 58. He still runs 5 miles a day, does free weights, and everything. He tops out at 6'1", and is incredibly broad in the shoulders. He has slim hips and HUGE hands. He and I have the same eyes, shape and color, though I'd kill for lashes like his. His face is kinda well I guess rugged. Not exactly textbook handsome...but so attractive that, who the hell cares about textbooks. If I wanted more textbooks...I'd have gone on to college. But I digress. His hair is a deep brown, though it has a good amount of gray shot through it. It is very thick and since he 'retired' last year, it been getting longer, he gets it cut only when he has to. Grampa was a titan of industry. Not one of the famous ones...no one really ever knew his name, but he made tons of money, so that now he can do what he wants when he wants. My dad isn't like Grampa at all. Grampa worked to make money so he could stop working; my dad works to make money so he can make more money, big difference. Anyway, I'm a neglected little well off girl. Poor me, poor me, pour me another shot of ...well I can't have that yet.
Anyway. The summer started off boring, I woke up at around 6, went over to Grampa's so that I could drive him and his posse over to the golf course. I was always properly attired, and well dressed like a girl should to be around her grandfather. This lasted all of 2 days. Grampa dragged me to the mall the second afternoon, and shoved me into 579, and Wet Seal and a couple of other store and told me not to come out 'til I was eye candy...if he wanted buttoned collars and boring, he'd have hired the kid next door to him. I went wild, I grabbed short shorts, tiny skirts, and anything I'd ever wanted to wear, but couldn't cause my parents were uber conservative. Every shirt was tight, or low cut, or had words like SLUT or Porn Star, or some such emblazoned across them, or in some cases, all three. The shoes were stilettos, the dresses were tight and low cut, or tight and short, or tight and see-through. I bought thongs, and push up bras, and shelf bras. When I left that mall I looked smokin' hot. And Grampa was well pleased.
I left all my new clothes at Grampa's, and when I'd go pick him up for the day, I'd change. Grampa would usually like what he saw, but one Friday, when I got there he had an outfit laid out for me on the bed. It was adorable. It was a black scoop neck top that said Cum Slut in iridescent beads and sparkles, the skirt was a SHORT black tennis skirt, the kind that made Fergie so popular. A pair of black lace boy cut panties, and black push up bra lay there as well. I climbed into the clothes, ran a brush through my hair, and went down to Grampa.
He grabbed me up in a hug, but this one was different than any other. His hands were on my ass, cupping it in an almost punishing grip. "Baby girl, you look too damn good for a Horney old man like me. But I'll take you." He growled into my ear.
"Grampa?" My voice sounded funny even to me...but his hands the way they were clenching and releasing, grasping and massaging my ass made me feel strange. I hadn't dated much simply because I was having too much fun doing other stuff, and the few guys I had gone out with hadn't had any chemistry, there was no spark... but Grampa was creating enough sparks to burn a city.
"Honey I can drive myself where ever I want to go, you are smarter than that." He had started to grind me into his swollen, cock. "I knew your mom would want you out of the house so she can keep fucking the upstairs maid, and your dad thinks only with his wallet, so my offering to pay for your school and keep you in pocket money would get past him wondering why I'd need you to drive for me. So for the rest of the summer, you my dear are gonna be paying for school, and earning your money the old fashion way."
Grampa's feral grin should have frightened me. His words should have sent me running. The improper touches should have had me screaming. But all these things did was combine to make me so wet that my panties quickly became uncomfortable. I didn't say anything though...I was quite confused, I just leaned into the embrace and wiggled my ass in his hands.
"Come on. Time to go see the gang." Grampa's posse, as I call them, are a bunch of young retirees ranging in age from about 50 to 60. Each of them made their money and then got out of the game as soon as they could. Now they spend their time either at the club playing golf or creating ventures to keep their fingers in the pot...or just chilling out by one of their pools.
I did my part I drove Grampa all over and we collected his friends before we returned to Grampa's house where I served them all drinks. Now I'm no bartender but even a blonde can pour scotch in a glass. The last few days they had treated me as they always did, pats on the head and pulling quarters from behind my ears. Now the mood had completely changed, instead of pats on the head. It was swats on the ass, quarters were replaced with condoms. They had gone from being extensions of my Grampa, to being dirty ole men. And my little cunny was sopping wet. I knew I was strange, never wanting to do more than kiss the boys I'd dated...but here is the reason. I liked older men. Men who weren't influenced by all this latter day feminism and bullshit. Men who could look at girls and saw a pussy they wanted to fuck or not, and they didn't apologize for it. And these Men wanted me. How cool is that.
Grampa's Posse included Mr. Dan, he'd made a fortune before the bottom dropped out of the Real Estate business, Mr. James, a product of the early dot com boom, and wise investing. Mr. Nathan, He made his money in Imports, Mr. Ashley, was a Brit, he was actually old money; but had made much more in antiques. And Last but not least, Uncle Jason. He wasn't really my uncle, but he'd been Grampa's buddy for like ever. He'd served in the state department, and knows where all the skeletons are buried in most of the World's Capitols. Uncle Jason even looks a bit like Grampa, big and healthy; athletically built and a real manly man.
Uncle Jason is really the one who started the party. After I served him his drink, rather than smacking my ass, or saying a suave double entendre like some of the others, he pulled me into his lap. I could feel his dick in his chinos, pressing into my butt. I'll admit it I wiggled it...just a little bit. The sound that rumbled out of him rolled right through me and pooled in my panties. He set his drink aside and started to kiss me. It was strong and deep and very, very sensual. I was so distracted by his kiss; I was surprised when he broke it to pull my shirt up over my head. The other DOM in the room all made appreciative noises when the shirt bared more of me to their hungry eyes. The whooping and hollering that came next let me know that my bra had followed. Uncle Jason seemed content to rub his huge hands over my back as he kissed me. Then he trailed wicked little bites down my neck. I zoned for a moment or twenty, just basking in the scrumptious feelings. A man I'd always considered as an uncle or another grampa, created in me. Waves of pleasure jazzed down my spine and straight to my core. When he finally made his way to my nipples, can I just say I almost fell out of his lap trying to get my tit further into his mouth. He started gently lick and sucking, allowing the pressure to build slowly. When Mr. Ashley came over and steadied me, Uncle Jason did this amazing thing. He gathered both of my tits in his hands and pressed them together so that he could lick and suck and nibble and bite at both nipples at once. I came so hard. I panted and sighed. I begged for more. I whined and cursed. I soaked his lap.
Mr. Ashley tilted my head back, and kissed my forehead. "Darling girl if I keep listening to your delicious sounds, I'm going to cum in my pants like a school boy." And he fastened his mouth to mine. His kiss was quite different from Uncle Jason. It was deeper, yet at the same time more polite, more reverent. I felt like I was being cherished. If Uncle Jason's kiss was dark chocolate, Mr. Ashley's kiss was Godiva milk chocolate. It was sweet and tantalizing. It made me wet, but it did it in a completely different way. I felt his hands under my skirt and shifted as much as I could without dislodging Uncle Jason...cause I never wanted him to stop...and he managed to slip my drenched panties off and he broke our kiss to sniff them. The sigh he gave in appreciation was eloquent. Now I know you are thinking, underwear sniffing is icky, but watching a man savor the smell of your pussy juices is indescribably hot. Add to that the fact that he then passed them around the group and each and every one of them reacted like it was the best thing they had ever smelt in their entire existence, and I believe you can see why it triggered another orgasm. I think I screamed a bit on this one but Mr. Ashley started kissing me again so I can't be sure.