"Grandma I'm home!" I shout as I enter the back door of the house that leads into her small kitchen. In the center of the kitchen is a round white table, all the condiments and fixings for a nice breakfast laid out and two places set. Buttered bread sits on the right side of each plate, mine with the crusts trimmed just like I like them.
Grandma pampers me when I visit her, since we don't see each other much anymore. It's been a little more than a year since I last visited her house after Grandfather passed away and she found herself with the entire house to herself. It's a big rambling family home, much too big for one woman and she always says she'll sell it soon, I know the rest of the family can't wait for that day because she promised them a cut of the proceeds.
Personally I want her to keep this house until she passes away - hopefully not for many more years. This house is full of memories for me, I grew up here and explored the woods behind the house on her property as a child. Later as a teen with the neighbor girls you could say that some of my fondest memories were formed here.
I walk further into the kitchen and look around at the L shaped counter area, noticed that things look like she left in a hurry - mid breakfast preparation. "How long was I gone" I think, no more than fifteen minutes. I pull handle and open the door to her old refrigerator, leaning forward to place the milk she asked me to run and get on the top shelf.
"Grandma?" I ask loudly as I close the ancient icebox and walk past the round table and it's four chairs. The right side of the kitchen is open leading into the living room area and the stairs that lead up to the second flight, where the bedrooms are. I hear a creaking from the floor upstairs and walk to the foot of the flight, something inside me telling me to be a little quieter than normal. I remove my sneakers and start to climb, padding quietly up the stairs. I'm not really sure why I want to sneak but enjoying the rush as my heart speeds up.
As I make it halfway up the stairs I hear a sound from somewhere past the top of the stairs, a grunt and a muffled "woof" from my grandma and from the echoed quality it sounds like she's in the bathroom. With this realization my heart starts to really pound and I feel a familiar growing stiffness in my shorts.
I've never spoken of it to anyone, but I have been nursing a growing fetish for my grandmother's private activities, and her shit is right at the top of the list. The first time I had the opportunity to smell a pair of lightly soiled panties in the basement laundry hamper I knew I was hooked. The musky scent of my grandmother's secret garden drove me wild, and from that day on I took any opportunity that arose to smell it again.
I reach the top of the stairs and say in a questioning tone "Grandma?" saying the word loud and using my new found puberty enhanced voice to project the word into the hallway. Deep down inside I feel like I'm doing something forbidden, something wrong and that is where the excitement lies. I want to stop but my curiosity is driving me forward.
I reach the bathroom door on the right side of the hall and lean close, turning my head to the left to bring my ear close. From the room behind the door I hear another grunt and a watery plop, and as my excitement grows so does the smell, I smile as I think to myself my grandma is taking a huge shit and there is nothing between us but a few inches of wood.
I'm shaking with the realization, heart racing at my new forbidden knowledge. My mind races with the repeating thought "I now know what it sounds like, I know what my Grandmother's shit smells and sounds like." A slow smile creeps across my lips as the smell gets stronger and I hear my grandmother start to emit a low moan. She must be really pushing out a large log this time, I think to myself. My heart is pounding like a drum now, what if she catches me?
The thought of her suddenly yanking the door open and seeing her adolescent grandson leaning into the doorway smiling, sniffing deep the odor of her bowels is almost sweeter than the thrill that is currently running down my body and ending up in my shorts. I hear the soft splash as the last log she was painfully forcing out hits the water followed by a relieved sigh from my grandmother. She is almost done and I know I'm cutting it close by standing here.
My mind skips ahead to the trip back down the stairs, these creaky wooden slats will surely give me away if I creep down too fast. A part of me wants Grandma to hear me, wants to be caught and punished. A part of me wants to be exposed just so I will see her reaction, in my fantasies I want to see the surprise in her eyes turn to lust as she realizes that she feels the same way I do, and she begins to bend over and... my mind has grown sick, I have to remind myself they will never play out in real life.
I painfully adjust the massive erection that is now straining against my the inside of my underwear so hard that it's vertical, poking out of the band of my shorts and barely covered by the bottom of my t-shirt. With my cock in this position if there was to be a strong enough breeze my shirt would rise, exposing my third leg to anyone watching. They would get an eyeful of my stiff member jabbing hotly straight past my navel.
I smile at the thought of my dick being exposed as I begin to creep back down the hallway towards the stairs. Suddenly a new thought occurs to me, so naughty and delicious that I feel a tiny gush of warm precum ooze out of my painfully erect penis. The fluid creeps over the tip of my cockhead and runs down my shaft, pooling where the elastic of my shorts meets my dickflesh. The thought that stops me in my tracks is "What if I knock on the door?"
What if I knock and play innocent, just to see what grandma will do? The thought electrifies me as I halt my progress down the hall and rotate slowly, my sock covered feet making no sound. " I'm frozen with the possibility."Let's do it," the voice in my head says. "Do it, and pretend like you don't smell a thing." I gaze at the door as the voice continues "Pretend you enjoy it," the voice says. "Do it and see how she reacts." I creep back to the whitewashed door and knock lightly, politely. "Grandma? You in there?" I ask, hearing her gasp inside followed by the sound of toilet paper being ripped hurriedly from the roll. My smile widens as the next idea occurs to me in a flash.
Jiggle the door knob, the voice says, so I do. I gently wiggle it, and am immediately rewarded by the sound of the inner lock being snapped into place and the hollow bang of the toilet lid being dropped into place.
