Granny Moods Ch. 01: Granny In Heat
The signs were there, but I didn't read them correctly at first, even though they were as outstanding as the cat-like hazel eyes on Margie's dark-brown face. The first indication that granny was on a mission of some sort was in the way she had suddenly started coming over to our house far more frequently than usual, and that, I was the one most often sought out for conversation and her attention - sometimes even coming to my bedroom and sitting on my bed to engage me.
With each visit, the feeling that something imminent was in the making between me and my sixty-year-old grandmother, Margie, became progressively obvious. Almost every time she looked at me, her piercing cat eyes would probe mine searchingly, and with such intensity, that I felt like she was trying to will an idea into my head. Her hugs became tighter and lasted longer. Her soft fingers dug deep into my back.
At first, I had thought that there was something going on in her personal life or some family issue that she wanted to confide in me about but was hesitant because of the sensitive nature and was waiting for the right time or opening. But as physical contact grew increasingly more intimate, that thought gradually gave way to a nagging suspicion, one that I tried to suppress initially, but was soon exploring in my head. And the more I dug into it, the more I found my thoughts and feelings moving in a direction that was shocking, at first, but soon became enjoyable - just like that, I began seeing my grandmother as a sexually desirable woman.
For the first time ever, I began taking sensual delight in the flare of her hips, the big round mounds of backside, and how they rolled when she walked, her big boobs, her fleshy thighs and shapely legs. I had always been aware of all these, and admired their well sculped proportions, but now I was looking at them with an erotic interest that caused a titillating response in my young body.
Margie - since childhood, I interchanged between calling my grandmother, gran, Granny Margie, or just plain Margie - lived alone on the outskirts of town, just two miles from us, where she and my grandfather had resided up until two years ago when he left her for a much younger woman. for the first year after the split, she had been in visible emotional disarray, but, surprisingly, was now back to her usual jovial, candid, barefaced and sprightly self.
Granny Margie was a very sensual woman; one didn't have to be in her presence for long to notice it; it hit you right away. She oozed sexuality - all the time - it showed in the way she dressed, spoke, moved, and most of all in her eyes. Her shiny cat eyes seemed to be always posing challenging questions to the other person. Yet, considering her obvious sex appeal, she was not what you would call a pretty woman. Eyes aside, her coarse featured face was, at best, ordinary - a broad nose with flaring nostrils, wide bottom-heavy lips, puffy cheekbones and a bit of nasal folds. She wasn't a pretty face but was compellingly sexy.
Her body was the bomb - thick, round and coca cola shaped, weighing more than two hundred pounds at five feet four inches. She was built for hard fucking and could easily evoke naughty thoughts in the purest of minds. The idea of fucking her soon sprouted in my mind, which was already definitively naughty by nature; It grew stout roots that found welcome tenancy there. I felt it in my bones that fucking Margie was inevitable; it was just a matter of 'the right time and place' and one of us having the guts to make the bold move.
I'd been sitting before the TV, but thinking about granny Margie, when, surprisingly, as if conjured up by my own lascivious thoughts, I heard voices, and my mom, who had been in the garden, came into the house accompanied by gran. Margie was wearing a light, V-front, pale yellow, cotton sundress that stopped several inches above her knees and generously displayed a bulging cleavage; it was the El Nino season, so her outfit was understandable. My already puffy cock, started to stretch out the moment gran looked into my eyes. Mom scurried away to the kitchen with a bag of stuff gran had brought for her. Margie came over to where I was sitting.
"Just dropped in with some stuff for your mother. I'm on my way to school... yes, it is Saturday and we're on summer break, but there is some lagging work to do in preparation for new entrants," Margie said.
My grandmother was the headmistress of a junior secondary school.
She stood in front of me, smiling, hands akimbo, thick legs slightly spread, sunglasses on forehead, grey-streaked light-brown, Rasta-like locs, piled as usual, on top her head in a bun. Returning the smile, I held her stare for a few seconds then lowered my eyes to look her over, settling on the big boobs cupped nicely by the built-in, cleavage-displaying bra. Margie laughed and looked down at her outfit.
"Far from professional, eh?... but it's only a few of us ladies will be there... its hot as ass... and I'm the boss... they'll talk behind my back, but as you can see, my back is broad; it can bear the weight of gossip and more," she said, chuckling as she pivoted to show me her shapely, fleshy back, mostly bare because of the cut of the dress.
Holding out her arms, she added, "Do I have to beg for a hug?"
I got up, fully aware of the bulge in my shorts, but goaded on by a sudden daring. She wrapped her stout arms around me tightly, and I did not hesitate to fix a thigh between hers and press my hard cock against her stomach. I wanted her to know and feel my need. She returned the pressure, sending her own body forward to welcome mine. For a few blissful seconds we stood locked in the most intimate of embrace we had ever shared, to date.
"That's more like it... you know I'm always happy to see you Damian; Now that I'm home on summer break you can drop by me any time, so we can have some alone time together, to chat without interference" she whispered, patting my back and then sinking her nails into it as if staking claim to that territory.
"I will granny, I like being with you too," I told her.
Granny Margie let go of me suddenly and stepped back. I guessed that she had seen or heard mom approaching. I took the silent que and quickly sat down, with my hands on my crotch. With sprightly steps as if to prevent a confrontation, Gran hurried away towards my approaching mom. I heard them talking for a while. As they were leaving, she looked over her shoulder at me and spoke:
"Damian... Audrey will be getting some things for me when she goes into town today... can you bring them by tomorrow morning, please?"
"No problem gran," I replied.
The next morning, I turned up at Margie's house as promised. When she opened the door, I noticed immediately that she had spruced up a bit... shiny makeup, brown lipstick, a bit of eyeshadow, and she was wearing perfume.
"Good morning, Margie... wow, looks like somebody is preparing to go on a date. You look so beautiful granny," I exclaimed.
She smiled. "Thanks... but no date, unless you are here to take me out... just wanted to look nice, and different, for my favourite grandson," she exclaimed, chuckling.
She was wearing soft skims shorts that were a skin-like brown. Her top was a scoop front, beige T-shirt with a large, multi-colored pair of parted lips printed across the bosom. As she turned to lead me into the kitchen, big ass bouncing, I noticed that her skims were the low-back type, allowing a show of flesh and butt crack because of the short T shirt. It was obvious that gran was sending a message and was going all out to make sure it got delivered. I read it carefully and understood the clear meaning. I decided that I had to be just as flirty, and clear about my interest in my sexy grandmother. Although only twenty-two, I was already fairly gifted in piloting females into sexual waters.
I placed the bags of groceries on the kitchen table and gran stood close to me, our arms and bodies casually touching as we unpacked. And then again as we put them into cupboards. I would twist my elbows to nudge her breasts or drop my hands to bounce against her buttocks or inner thighs.
"Would you like something to drink, a cold beer or something?" she asked when we had finished packing away stuff in the cupboards.
Staring at her, I said, "Nah, I'd much rather drink in the sight of my beautiful grandmother... a show of appreciation for the effort she put in to look good for me."
She smiled and looked away shyly. "Boy, yuh like tease this old lady, eh... but guess what... I love it. Let's go sit down and yuh could drink in as much of me as yuh want."
Although being a teacher, when she was in informal settings, Margie delighted in using Caribbean dialect. She took my hand and led me into the living room. She showed me to a chair and then sat on a low, leather ottoman directly in front of me, about four feet away. She did not sit square, rather, a triangled edge of the ottoman cut plumb between her spread legs. With her sitting like that my eyes were treated to a titillating and tempting view of plump vulva hugged vulgarly tight. The skims being so close to the actual colour of her skin, made it look like I was staring at a smooth-shaven vaginal mound. It was even clefted, camel toe style
We sat there, grandmother and grandson casually chatting in simmering sexual tension, she, regularly, staring into my eyes suggestively, me focusing regularly on the bump between her thick thighs. As we chatted, she raised both arms and began attending to the bun on top her head. The sight of her clean-shaven, smooth and meaty armpits aroused cannibalistic urges in me, and I felt a strong urge to simply rush over and start licking and biting into them. She eventually got the bun loose and her locs tumbled down past her shoulders. She shook her head and then fixed the locs neatly around her face.
"Whose lips are those?" I asked, looking at the print on her bosom.
"They look like yours, ah think," she said, giggling and lifting both breasts, then bending over to look at the painted lips.
"I wish they were," I said, softly.
"Why?" she asked, sitting forward, and looking set to pounce on my answer.
"Who wouldn't like to have their lips on big, beautiful bubbies like those," I said.
"So, you is a bubby man, eh, yuh like big boobs," she said, laughing and slapping her thighs.
Her body shook and I could see that despite the laughter, she was suddenly a bundle of nerves. She looked straight between my legs and bit her full lower lip, then looked away and made as if to get up. She sighed loudly.
"These damn knees, dey been killing me of late... there is a glass on the kitchen table, go get it fuh me, nuh, please. I was just about to tek a drink when ah hear you knocking at the door."
I remembered seeing her pick up a glass and sip from it while we were unpacking. It had looked like rum with ice and ginger ale.
"No, problem, Margie," I said, getting up, and taking my time to move off, allowing my grandmother to get a look at her grandson's, big erect cock, which I now felt for sure, she was ready and willing to take into her fluffy, aged body. I clearly heard the deep intake of breath as she spotted my arousal.
When I returned with the drink, which had gone flat, she took it and remarked about the ice having melted. I offered to get more ice for her, or a fresh drink. but she said she was just going to drink it all off at once and have the fresh one in a while. She downed the drink then looked at me, and I saw it in her eyes; she was ready to fuck. She looked down at her knees and rubbed them both caressingly, clearly inviting some kind of attention or response.
"Yuh been applying any pain lotion, or massaging them?" I asked, concernedly.
"Nah... been thinking about it, but ah too lazy... old age, yuh know."
"I can rub them for you... yuh got cream... I got hands." I said, laughing.
