Grandpa: After Molly

All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age and are figments of the author's imagination.

.....

Ed Watson, the now 61 year old star of my "Grandpa and Molly" series, returns in this story of a man with an obsession.

Ed had been a married man with a sex life that had been a distant memory until that summer when his granddaughter Molly came to visit. It was a couple of months that changed Ed's life forever in many ways.

His wife Ethel suffered a stroke near the end of that summer, and Molly had returned home to her family when school resumed. Ethel hung on in a near-comatose state until spring, when she mercifully passed away.

Now totally alone, Ed found himself obsessed with resuming his sex life, that had reached a peak with Molly. The problem was that the type of woman Ed was interested in were not very interested in him. Not many 18 year old girls were interested in senior citizens.

Chapter One: Ed on the prowl.

I watched the cashier carefully count out the change into my sweaty hand. I was watching carefully too; admiring the way her tits strained against the fabric of the store's uniform. Good sized tits on her too, and it was a damn shame that the drab garment was so conservatively tailored that I couldn't see any cleavage.

Amanda. That was what the name tag on her left tit claimed. Amanda had dirty blonde hair that was long and frizzy, and the fine down on her forearms was about the same shade. I wondered if her pussy hair was that color too.

"And five is twenty," Amanda chirped. "Thanks very much Mr. Watson."

"Thank you Amanda," I answered. "Have a nice day, pretty one."

I felt like a fool, practically drooling on the poor thing, and my conversation was pretty lame as well. Pretty one? Good grief. Luckily I had reached the age where girls humored me, thinking that I was a harmless old coot. Maybe I was an old coot, but I had something in my pants that was anything but harmless, and all I could think of was what I wouldn't give for a few minutes alone with that cutie.

Shy and innocent and cute. Real cute, and built like - well, they sure didn't make 18 year olds like that when I was young, and if they did, then I must have missed them.

Last time I went in that store, after checking to see that Amanda was on the register, I bought a pack of condoms. Magnum, they called them, for larger men. I got plenty large when I saw Amanda blush as she picked them up to scan them, and she was all jumpy when she tried to put them in the bag, dropping them on the first attempt.

How I wanted to just plop my cock on the counter right then and there, and see what the girl would do. I didn't, of course, but I enjoyed the exchange anyway. The condoms were a waste of money, of course, although I did slide one on later that night to jerk off into it, so it wasn't a total loss.

Now I was driving home, alone, and cursing myself for what I was thinking about as I leered at the cashier, and just about every other female I ran into.

When I arrived at the farmhouse we had called home for the last 35 years, it seemed even larger and more lonely than ever. Heck, even with Ethel there bitching and moaning at me, it was better than this.

Chapter Two: Phone call from an angel.

That evening I was sitting in the living room, my remote control in one hand and a beer in the other, flicking back and forth between a show that had untalented people trying to sing and another that had idiots eating bug shit for cash, when the phone rang.

"Hi Grandpa!" the voice sang out when I answered. "How are you doing?"

Molly. Sweet Molly. Little blonde pixie with big eyes and tiny tits. The girl that had taken a miserable and celibate old man and turned him into a senior sex fiend. As her bubbly voice continued to fill my ear my cock surged, poking out of the fly of my boxer shorts, which was all that I happened to be wearing at the time.

"I've been missing you baby," I said with a catch in my voice. "I miss you so much."

"Uh, yeah. I miss you too Grandpa," Molly said in a voice that indicated she was not able to talk. "Dad wants to talk to you - here he is."

As Molly passed the phone to my son-in-law, I felt a shiver go down my spine. As he greeted me warmly, I was relieved when the topic of conversation was not something like, "Say Pop, Molly told us you fucked her all last summer."

As it turned out, the subject was me, but it was more along the line of how concerned the family was about me. It seems that word had gotten around that I wasn't handling the loss of my wife very well, and the rest of the family had been speaking about what to do about it.

"We were thinking that it might be a good idea if you had some company," Todd said. "Maybe to help you around the house."

"You mean like a baby sitter?" I said sharply, hoping that he was going to say that he was going to send Molly to live with me again.

"No, Pop," Todd said. "It's just that a big place like yours is a lot for one guy to handle, and without Mom there it must be awfully lonesome. Since you aren't planning on moving into an apartment..."

"No way in hell," I informed my son-in-law.

"Since you aren't moving," he repeated for my benefit. "We understand, but anyway, we wanted to know if you would like to have one of your grandchildren to stay with you over the summer vacation?"

"Molly?" I asked hopefully.

"No, Molly's going to Europe for the summer on an exchange program, but Len and Chrissie said that Lindsey would be willing to stay with you after she graduates high school next month."

Our other daughter Chris and her family lived over 700 miles away and we had never been as close to them because of the distance involved. Lindsey? I strained to remember what she even looked like. Little carrot top without her 2 front teeth was all I could remember, but that was a long time ago.

"Well sure, I guess that would be okay," I said.

As we talked, I pondered the possiblities, both pro and con. No more walking around in my underwear with a kid around the house, but it would be nice to have a little company, especially female. Who knows, maybe she got really good looking since the last time I saw her.

"Graduated high school?" I said suddenly. "Geez, how old is she?"

"Eighteen," Todd answered.

"Wow, am I out of touch."

"We never see them much either," Todd admitted. "The only reason I know her age is that Molly is almost a year older than Lindsey is. Well, we'll have Chris call and set things up with you."

After a minute, Todd started to wrap up the call, but then told me to hang on, because Molly wanted to talk to me.

"Grandpa? Wait a sec. Okay, I'm in my room now, so I can talk. Isn't that neat, having Lindsey stay with you?"

"I wanted it to be you," I said lewdly into the mouthpiece.

"Me too Grandpa," Molly said. "But I have to go to France."

My hand was now wrapped around my cock, slowly pumping it as we talked, as I walked back into the kitchen.

"Do you know Lindsey?"

"No, but Dad says she's nice."

"Not as nice as you Molly," I said breathlessly, reaching over and grabbing the dishwashing liquid off the counter. "Nobody could be."

"We had so much fun," Molly said. "I miss our talks and stuff. Most of all I miss your cock."

"Uhhh," I groaned while squirting a stream of Dawn all over the topside of my erection.

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" Molly asked, and I grunted the answer. "I have my hand in my panties. Are you jerking off?"

"Yes."

"Oh wow, where are you?"

"Kitchen."

"I wish I was there," Molly whispered. "I wish I was kneeling in front of you, sucking on that big thing like it was a lollypop. Wish I was squeezing your balls."

"Got a boyfriend?" I gasped.

"Yes, he's fun, but he's not like you," Molly said. "He can't get me off like you did. I still dream about your huge cock tearing into me. You were my first and my best. Can you believe that I actually took that gigantic thing of yours in my tiny asshole."

My knees buckled as I orgasmed, my seed spraying all over the linoleum as I moaned into the phone, and I finally had to lean against the sink for support while my dripping dick deflated.

"Gotta go hang up the phone now Grandpa," Molly said quickly. "Listening to you cum got me so hot I have to get myself off."

Chapter Three: Lindsey's Arrival.

I heard the sound of tires rolling through the gravel driveway, which signaled the arrival of my summer guest. My son-in-law Leonard, who I had always considered a bit of a dork, was behind the wheel and our daughter Chris was riding shotgun.

It had been a couple of years since I had seen them. Len looked just as dorky to me as ever, and had gotten a little doughy around the middle to boot. Chris had plumped up a little too, and I was shocked at how big her breasts had gotten, but more shocked at myself for thinking about such a thing.

Lindsey climbed out of the backseat, looking as bored as you might expect from a teenager that's been sentenced to a summer out in the sticks with a Grandpa that she's rarely seen.

Tall drink of water, I noticed immediately. As tall as her father, and maybe a little taller, which wasn't tough with him being about 5'8" or so. She was wearing big round glasses that she kept pushing back up her nose, with frames that matched her hair. Skinny too, or so it seemed. She was wearing a layered top which hid my prying eyes from a proper assessment of what was going on in that region, but the shorts revealed a pair of very pale and bony legs.

They had sent me a picture of Lindsey in her graduation gown, and to me she looked like that woman who played Jack Nicholson's wife in The Shining. Shelly Duvall was her name, as I recall, and I hoped with all my heart that Lindsey wouldn't be as annoying as she was.

Bright red hair. That was what got your attention when you looked at Lindsey, and was obviously a trait that she had gotten from her father. Skin so white she looked almost ghostly, although that would change once she started getting some sun out here. Freckles galore too, at least on her face and around her collarbone. She was no Molly in the looks department, that much was certain.

I greeted them at the door, helping with the suitcases Lindsey had brought. She seemed a little aloof, giving me a brief hug and a peck on the cheek, before wandering off to the back yard.

"Guess Lindsey's not too thrilled about being stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with me," I said to Chris as we watched her check out the field in back of the house.

"No, it's not that, Dad," Chris said.

"Boy trouble," Len offered. "She got in an argument yesterday with this kid she's been going steady with, so she's upset about that. Hope she dumps him. Good riddance, I say. He was a real loser."

You should know, I thought to myself. Chris didn't hit the jackpot with you either. Losing his hair and getting fat - hell, I was in better shape than him and I've got at least 20 years on him.

"He isn't that bad," Chris retorted. "You always think her boyfriends are no good."

"Well, it's tough to be a father of girls," I offered. "I often thought the same way Len does."

"She'll get over it," Chris said. "She was actually pretty excited about coming out here, believe it or not. By nature she's a quiet and shy thing."

"Yeah," Len added. "She talked to Molly on the phone when we first came up with the idea, and I guess Molly must have told her she had fun with you, because since then she's been gung-ho about being here."

"Well, it wasn't all fun," Chris said sadly.

"That's true," I sighed and tried to keep from chuckling at the bizarre events of that fateful evening, when Ethel arrived home early.

I had made a pot of coffee, and now I was sorry I did, because they were dawdling while drinking it, determined to stick around to the very last drop. Had Molly told Lindsey about what we had done together? I wanted so badly to know.

Lindsey was in the middle of the backyard, talking on one of those cell phones everybody but me seems to have, waving her arms around and being very animated. Boy, those were some skinny legs Lindsey had on her, I thought to myself. What was that old song... Skinny Legs and All? Somebody somewhere's gonna love you baby, skinny legs and all. Joe Tex, I think it was, and I guess I show my age in both remembering the obscure song and not being sure about who sang it.

The more I looked at Lindsey, the more appealing she became to me. She was gangly and awkward looking to be sure, and she had sparkling white teeth that were too big for her face, but I loved those freckles. Made her look younger than she was. Wonder where the freckles stopped, or if they did?

"Dad?" Chris said, for what might not have been the first attempt to wake me out of my daydream.

"Sorry," I grinned sheepishly. "Just watching Lindsey talking on her phone there."

"That damn thing," Len muttered. "I was hoping it wouldn't work way out here."

"Anyway," Chris said as she rose out of the chair, affording me a peek down her blouse at her cavernous cleavage. "Lindsey can take you to the store, or anything like that that you want her to do. She can drive at night now too, because she just turned 18 last week."

"I know," I replied, having gone through Ethel's address book where she had kept lists of birthdays and the like. "I got her a little ice cream cake in the freezer, and one of those gift cards too."

"Oh that's so sweet Dad," Chris said, giving me a hug. "That was really thoughtful of you. What a wonderful Grandpa you are!"

Chapter Four: Finally gone.

Len and Chris pulled out of the driveway, returning the wave I gave them, and headed down the road. They had spoken to Lindsey in the backyard, and she had managed to put down the phone long enough to give them kisses and hugs that looked painful to her, before letting them head back to the car by themselves. Kids.

I puttered around the kitchen for a few minutes, setting the little ice cream cake on the table and putting out a couple of plates and spoons. Lindsey eventually wandered in, and smiled when she saw the pathetic attempt at a birthday party.

"Happy birthday Lindsey!" I announced when she came into the kitchen.

She seemed embarrassed but sat down with me and had some cake. Lindsey opened the corny card I had gotten for her and looked pleased at the gift card to a national chain store, which I considered a minor victory.

"I know you must hate being away from your friends and everything," I said while clearing up the kitchen table, and was pleased when Lindsey helped without my asking.

"No, this is okay," Lindsey said, tossing her head back and letting her wavy red hair fly behind her.

I surveyed her as she rinsed off the plates over at the sink. Her shirt had large sweat stains under the arms and along her backbone, and she was clearly not dressed for the balmy day we were experiencing.

"Sorry we don't have air conditioning," I said, attempting to start a conversation. "You must be awfully hot in that blouse."

"Yeah, well, I guess it's safe. Now that they're gone I mean."

With that Lindsey began unbuttoning her blouse, and in an instant was pulling it off. As the blouse came off, a whole lot of my questions were answered.

Chapter Five: Lindsey unwrapped.

Where to begin? Lindsey looked nervously at me as she took her blouse off, watching for my reaction, and I fought to keep a calm exterior while trying hard not to look. I might have pulled off the placid demeanor, but the more I tried not to look, the more spastic I became.

Lindsey was wearing a bright yellow tank top, and obviously nothing underneath. Her breasts were small and cone shaped, wiggling as she moved, and the outline of her nipples showed through the cotton fabric.

The freckles were everywhere; all over her shoulders and neck, and they coated the outsides of her slender arms as well. She was so skinny that her little breasts, small enough that they would look lost on an fuller sized frame, looked more prominent on her.

"Is it alright for me to dress like this around here? Mom would throw a fit if she saw me like this with no bra on."

"Uh, sure, it's fine."

"You're right Grandpa," Lindsey said. "It is really hot in here."

It was certainly alright if she wore things like that around the house, I assured Lindsey as I tried to tear my eyes off of her before she found out how perverted I was on the very first day.

"Looks like you don't get a lot of sun," I noted as I dried the cleaned dishes Lindsey handed me.

As I nodded toward her rail-thin arms, which were pale white beneath the swarm of freckles, my eye caught something I hadn't been expecting. Peeking out of the fold of her upper arm, almost neon in its brightness against the yellow blouse backdrop, burnt orange hairs sprouted out as if trying to escape.

When Lindsey saw what I was looking at, she slowly lifted her arm. Presumably done to wipe her brow with the back of her hand, the action afforded me an equisite and close-up view of the thick tuft of hair that seemed to erupt from cavernous valley of her armpit. The stark paleness of the insides of her arm made the bright fur seem even more brilliant.

"Damn!" I said as the plate fell from my shaky hands and, after bouncing off the edge of the sink, shattered after hitting the floor.

Red-faced, I knelt to pick up the pieces of the plate, thinking of what Ethel would have done if it had been her helping me to clean up the mess. Oh well, at least she wouldn't be needing a plate anymore, I figured.

"Sorry Grandpa," Lindsey said as we got up from the floor. "I didn't mean to... I mean... Molly said you liked that."

Chapter Six: Comforting Lindsey.

Lindsey had backed away from me after saying that sentence, the words that sent a chill down my spine, and went out the back door and into the yard, clearly shaken.

"Lindsey - wait!" I called out to her. "It's okay."

I think that she took my curse, and the fact that my face was beet-red from the exertion of a 61 year-old guy kneeling down, as signs I was mad. Hell, I didn't care about the dish.

The other thing, the part about Molly, did disturb me. They had talked, Molly and Lindsey. About what, and how much Molly had talked, were the unknown factors that raced through my mind.

Clearly, in retrospect, Lindsey's casual raising of her arm was no accident. If it was an attempt to get my attention or gauge my interest, I guess that my turning into a butterfingered, spasming buffoon at the sight of her unshaven armpit answered that question pretty well.

That could have been the only thing that had come from Molly, I hoped, knowing that wasn't likely. Maybe she just casually mentioned that I had commented on Molly's little wisps of hair she had under her arms when she had visited us last year. Maybe that was all she had said. Doubtful, but maybe. The one thing I knew was that I had to find out, and soon.

I loitered around the kitchen as the afternoon became evening, looking out the window at the field and wondering what had become of Lindsey. It was just about when I was going to head out to find her when I saw her heading up from the slope that led to the creek down near the railroad tracks.

So as not to make her feel I had been waiting for her, I went into the living room when she reached the back porch. I noticed she had been carrying a bunch of wildflowers, and after I heard the screen door creak softly, I waited a minute before joining her.

Lindsey looked up as I entered the kitchen, and gave me a nervous smile as she arranged the flowers in a vase on the table.

"Found these down by the creek," Lindsey said as she stepped away from the table. "Hope it was okay to pick them."

"Sure," I told her. "They look beautiful too."

As beautiful as you are, I almost said, but thought better of it. Lindsey wasn't beautiful, at least in the classic sense. She was tall, skinny and awkward, at least now. Chances were that she would grow into a truly beautiful woman before long, but for now she only appealed to degenerates like me.