Pete shook his head watching his grandmother, Liz, and her older sister, Pat, drinking the night away during a visit by Pat to Liz's summer home by the sea. The two old gals could pound down the wine, Pete thought to himself, with his grandmother, 62, less able to hold it the way Pat could. The curly-haired, pretty gray-haired woman would be 70 in a couple of weeks and was the noted boozer in the family, easily taking down a couple of bottles of wine a night, appearing none the worse for wear.
Pete's grandmother Liz was another story. The 19-year-old college student was also visiting his grandmother and was a kind young man, making dinner for the pair of divorced women and pouring their drinks long into the night as they sat on the moonlit side deck, chatting, laughing and getting more hammered by the minute.
Pete noticed how bad his grandmother was getting and insisted on taking her upstairs to bed, helping the groggy woman to her feet and escorting her into the house, Pat laughing behind them.
"Oh, Liz, my kid sister, never could handle her booze!" she roared, watching them go. "You're a good kid, Pete, such a sweetheart."
Pete sighed and dragged his barely awake grandma up the stairs and plunked her into bed, covering her in a blanket and sitting beside her. Liz had left the TV on, so Pete just laid down next to her in his baggy running shorts and t-shirt and flipped through the channels until he found something he liked. Soon, his eyes grew heavy and he thought about going downstairs to his room but he was too comfortable and dozed off, hearing Pat banging around the kitchen, presumably pouring herself a nightcap, as if she needed it.
The washer and dryer for the house were in the bathroom of Liz's huge master bedroom, where Pat had started some of her laundry a couple hours ago. Now the sexy older woman, after slipping into a tiny, mid-thigh nightgown cut low in front to expose much of her ample, wrinkled cleavage, tromped upstairs to get the wet clothes into the dryer, figuring to get a jump on things.
She rounded the stairs at the top and through the French doors leading to the bedroom and stopped dead in her tracks as she walked by the bed, looking casually to her left. There Pete lay snoozing away, Liz a lump under the blankets facing the other way and snoring in her drunken slumber. What caught her eye was Pete's massive, stiff cock sticking down the leg of his running shorts, thick and veiny, a good eight-inches long and round as Pat's bony old wrist!
She slowly walked around the side of the bed, staring at that giant dick, easily the biggest she'd seen in years, if not ever, and stood, just watching it. Pete had slipped off his t-shirt on this warm night, and his muscular young belly and chest glistened with a sexy sheen of perspiration. Pat stood, staring, transfixed by the sight. She wasn't sure how long she stood there, unsure of if she should just turn around and walk away, but then Pete stirred, twisting in his sleep, his shorts riding up exposing even more of his enormous cock.
Pat looked into his blinking eyes as he woke, groggy and not sure what she was doing there.
"Oh, hi, Aunt Pat," he yawned.
