Lessons From Granny

"If you feel like you need help cleaning up, or... with... anything else, you just let your Granny know."

Even now, with my head shoved under the steaming shower head, Granny's words echoed in my brain. What exactly had she meant by that? Was my own grandmother...flirting with me? Or was I the pervert for even having that thought?

It was bad enough that she had caught me naked in bed that morning, right after a wet dream. And even worse: a wet dream where

she

and her friends had been the main attraction. But for her to then remain there in the bedroom, as normal as could be--while I still lay in bed half-hard and soaked in my own semen--and then say something so suggestive just felt incredibly... inappropriate.

I turned the shower as cold as I could, and forced myself to stand directly beneath it. Trying to think about anything except the dream of my Granny in her satin underclothes, cheering me on as I fucked her fat, hairy friend right in front of her. But the more I tried to get that dirty vision out of my head, the clearer and more colorful it became. Why had it felt so damn good to cum into that massive woman while a bunch of old ladies watched? Everything about it felt wrong and disgusting... and impossible to forget.

Just a dream

, I reminded myself.

Just a very, very nasty dream...

I soaped up a washcloth and scoured my body with it, hard, again and again, as if I could somehow scrub all the shame away. But even then, shivering under the ice-cold water, my cock was standing straight up again, as stiff and reliable as a piece of grade-A lumber. You know, everybody loves to glorify youth, but I'm here to tell you that sometimes, being an 18-year-old man can be downright exhausting. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was standing there freezing my shrunken balls off, trying to forget the single most embarrassing moment of my life. And yet, apparently, all my cock wanted to do was fuck.

I pushed my dick straight under the water, clenched my eyes shut, and tried to picture the most unappealing things I could imagine. But all I could envision was my Granny's pale, hefty tits pressed tight beneath the slick white fabric of her slip. Fuck! My cock was literally bobbing up and down now, like some kind of rabid, hungry animal. It was obvious that standing around naked in the shower--even an ice-cold shower--wasn't helping anything. I shut the water off and grabbed a towel, my dick still waving absurdly in front of me. Maybe if I just ignored it and tried to get on with my day, it would all go away.

The smell of fresh coffee and bacon filled the house. Granny was in the kitchen, flitting around and fussing the way she loved to do whenever she had company. She was still in her puffy pink robe, which--I couldn't help but notice--was open and swirling around here, revealing her long white nightgown. It was a sight I'd seen a thousand times before. And yet, for some reason, today it felt much more obvious.

Be cool, you fucking pervert

.

Be cool.

I had managed to cram my unruly dick into an extra-tight pair of boxer briefs before I got dressed, so that at least the problem could be contained. I tried not to feel how hot and thick it was against my thigh as I took a seat at the kitchen table. At least when I was sitting, it wasn't quite so obvious. Not that Granny was going to be looking at my crotch anyway. Right?

She knew exactly how I liked my eggs. As soon as I sat down, she lovingly plopped a plate down in front of me, same as she'd been doing for as long as I could remember. Granny lived about ten hours away from my parents, so growing up, we didn't see each other that often. But whenever I visited, she always treated it like a holiday. This summer was no different. We knew that it was my last real vacation before going off to college, so she had invited me to come stay at her house with her for a week. I'll admit it wasn't the most exciting trip I'd ever taken, but it was relaxing, and at that point I didn't have much else going on in my life. It might be hard to imagine now, but back then, most people didn't have a cell phone, and the internet--let alone online pornography--was still the stuff of science-fiction. Other than some books and whatever PG-rated movies happened to be on Granny's old TV at night, I was on my own.

Of course, as an 18-year-old, I wished I could be around more people my age--and in particular, more women. But if I'm being honest, it wasn't like I had a stable of horny girls waiting around for me at home. In fact, at that point, I'd only really been with two girls in my life, and let's just say that, as grateful as I was for the experiences, my performance had been... less than stellar. I'd been told by my older friends that things would get better in college. As far as I was concerned, they couldn't get much worse. In the meantime, here I was, putting in some wholesome family time with Granny. And trying--badly, apparently--to keep my own constant horniness at bay.

"How are the eggs?" Granny nestled into her chair across the table from me and filled her coffee cup.

"You know they're perfect, Granny. Your eggs always are."

"Just checking," she chuckled. "You're growing up into a good-looking young man now, and I know that sometimes men's tastes can change."

"Not for eggs they don't."

"Well that's nice to hear," she said, buttering up a slice of toast. "If you need any more, you just let your Granny know."

"You spoil me, Granny."

"Good," she grinned, and bit into her toast. As she raised her arm, her robe slipped open a little more. I tried with all my might not to notice the shape of her big pillowy tits shifting just beneath her nightgown--or the fact that my cock was still half-hard and straining against my underwear. What the hell was wrong with me?

Boring thoughts

, I told myself, as I shoveled more food in my mouth.

Think boring thoughts.

Granny took a big sip of coffee, and peered at me over her cup.

"So, tell me," she said. "How did it feel?"

I choked on my bacon and coughed hard. I could feel my face go bright red. She passed me my glass of water but didn't say anything.

"Excuse me?" I managed to cough out.

"Your wet dream," she said, as cool and plain as if we were discussing the weather. "The one I walked in on this morning. Was it nice?"

I coughed hard again and looked around.

Was this a joke?

Granny's eyes stayed fixed on me, calm as could be. I wished I could shrivel up and disappear, but barring that, I wondered how hard it would be to just jump up and leap straight out the window.

"I, uh... I don't know what you mean, Granny."

"Oh, don't be coy with me, Bobby. You know exactly what I'm talking about. We both saw it in your bed this morning."

"I don't... I can't... I mean... "

"You know it's completely natural, right? Certainly nothing to be ashamed of. Especially at your age."

"I, uh... Granny, I'm not sure that's something we should be talking about."

Granny leaned forward, elbows on the table. Her eyes were kind, but her voice was all business. "Listen, Bobby. You're not at your mother's house anymore. We're both grown people. And you're going to need to learn how to talk about grown-people things."

"But... you're my grandmother."

"You're damn right I am. And who better than me to give you a little wisdom? Back when I was your age, people were afraid to discuss this sort of thing. And you know what

that

mentality got them? Pregnant! And unsatisfied!"

As mortified as I was, I couldn't help but laugh a little.

"It's true! There was no sex education in my day! The only thing they told us was, 'Wait until marriage, or you'll go to hell.' And when that plan--big surprise--fell apart, they married you off, threw you in a room together, and told you, 'Good luck, kids!' Hell, half the girls I knew didn't even know what they had between their own legs!"

My jaw must have been on my plate.

"Oh, don't act so scandalized, Bobby. Every generation thinks they invented swearing and fucking." Granny took another long drink of her coffee and leaned in close. "Did you know that I was

twenty-seven

years old before I ever had a real orgasm? And that was with another lady!"

"Jesus Christ, Granny!" I'd never cursed in front of her in my life, but the sheer shock of hearing her talk that way made me blurt it out loud. She must have mistook my surprise for outrage, because she just kept on ranting.

"I know! It's atrocious when I think back on that! All those years that your dear departed granddad and I could have been cumming our young brains out together, instead of fumbling around like sad frustrated idiots." She smiled big and winked at me. "But don't worry. We made up for it plenty in the years after that."

The thought of my grandparents doing anything in bed was too much. I pushed my plate forward and started to get up. "Granny, thank you for the breakfast. And, uh, I really appreciate your... honestly. But I don't think I'm ready for this kind of--"

"Sit down, Bobby." Her voice was stern. But again, not unkind.

Reflexively, I complied. Everybody knew you didn't disobey Granny when she used that tone.

"Here's the deal." As she spoke, she reached over and gingerly refilled my coffee, as pleasant and hospitable as could be. "Your education is the most important thing in the world to me right now. And part of that education is you learning how to properly behave out there in the real world, as a responsible grown man. Can we agree on that?"

"Yeah," I muttered into my plate.

"Excuse me, young man?"

I sat up in my chair. "Yes, Granny."

"Good." She poured milk into my coffee, just the way I liked it, and slowly stirred it with a spoon. "Now, what I'm about to say to you might seem very embarrasing at first. And I understand that you're not accustomed to hearing me speak this way. But while you're staying here, I think it's very important that you understand a few things. It might make you feel a little uncomfortable now. But trust me: you--and your future partners--are going to thank me for it one day. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Mmmm-hmmm." I had no idea where she was going with this, but it was better just to agree.

"Dammit, Bobby!" Granny raised her voice. "I love you more than anything on this earth. But do not think for a moment that you're too old to get slapped by your grandmother. When I ask you a question you answer me properly. Do you understand me?"

I straightened up right away. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Good boy. Now listen to me, because I'm not going to say any of this twice: You're a smart, handome young man with a good heart. And some day you're going to make some young woman very happy." She paused. "I'm sorry. You

are

attracted to women, right?"

I felt like a criminal being interrogated on the stand. "Jesus, Granny. Yes."

"Just checking," she said. "I didn't mean to assume anything. Also, I let you take the Lord's name in vain once at this table, but that doesn't mean I'm going sit here and tolerate it all day."

"I'm sorry, Granny."

"Now where was I? Oh yes. You're a wonderful man, but you're still very young, and you have a lot to learn. And I can guarantee that, no matter what kind of hot young stud you might fancy yourself these days, you have no clue what you're doing in bed."

Wow. I thought things couldn't get more awkward, but now Granny was being inappropriate

and

criticizing me.

"Oh, don't make that face. It's not your fault. Every man goes through it. The question is, are you mature and responsible enough to handle the next step?"

"The... next step?"

"The most important thing in the world, Bobby." She shrugged her robe off and let it fall over the back of her chair. "Education."

Granny's bare shoulders were small and slight, at least compared to her breasts, but still smooth and strong looking. With the robe gone, I could clearly see her freckled, slightly wrinkled cleavage, and the outline of her heavy, pendulous tits hanging loose beneath her satin nightgown. The thick nipples, to my amazement, were clearly visible through the fabric, and rock-hard.

"You're in a very unique situation right now, Bobby."

Fuck. I'll say.

"You're alone in a house with a woman who loves you and cares about you. But who also understands that sometimes, there's a certain kind of education that only an older... wiser adult can properly provide. Someone you're close to, but who you don't have to see day-to-day. Do you understand that?"

At this point I had my shameful suspicions, but I didn't dare say them. "I don't think so, Granny."

Her hand moved lazily to her own bosom and she tugged at the neckline of her gown. "I would never make you do anything, Bobby. And I certainly don't want you to feel uncomfortable, or afraid. But if there is anything--and I mean

anything

--that you have questions about... or that you want to try... Granny is here for you.

She leaned forward dramatically, under the guise of reaching for more coffee, and gave me a clear view straight down the front of her long and very voluptuous cleavage.

"And I can assure you that whatever happens between us in this house, will always stay between us."

I tried to avert my eyes, to look at anything in the room except my grandmother's obvious, glorious set of tits on display right in front of me, but I could feel my cock swelling again at the sight of them.

"Now," Granny smiled, almost purring. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Jesus Fucking Christ.

I knew better than to say it out loud again. All I could do was nod my head sheepishly.

"I need to hear you say it, Bobby. Otherwise none of this works."

I could only imagine, at this point, what exactly "none of this" was alluding to. But I did what I was told.

"Yes, Granny. I think I understand."

"Oh good," she chirped. And just like that, she was all sweet smiles and fussing again. Scooping more sugar and pouring more milk. "Do you need more toast?"

"No, Granny, I... I think I'm good."

Was I losing my mind? Had I imagined all the suggestive things I swore she'd just said to me? Was this yet another crazy dream?

"Would you like to know what I did this morning, while you were taking a shower?"

"Um... made breakfast?"

"No, before that, silly!" She mopped at her plate with a scrap of her toast. "I masturbated, Bobby."

I choked again. She passed me the water, again, without a word.

"Don't pretend you don't know what that means, Bobby. God knows you've been beating your meat since you were old enough to walk."

I opened my mouth in protest, but she reached across the table and playfully shushed me.

"After you got in the shower, I went into your bedroom to strip off those nasty old sheets." Her voice was as nonchalant as ever. She may as well have been talking about picking out vegetables at the supermarket. "So I balled them up and took them down to the laundry room. And well, when I got down there, I guess I got a little curious. So I started sniffing."

I choked again.

"Oh for Pete's sake, Bobby, if you keep up this choking routine you're going to kill yourself before you ever make it to college. Now please try to focus."

I took a drink of water, mortified.

"Now what was I saying? Oh yes: I got a whiff of those wet sheets of yours--quite the mess, by the way. Very impressive. And well, let's just say that the smell of all that fresh, wet sperm took me back a little. Smell is

such

a powerful memory, don't you think? Anyhoo... Next thing you know, I've got the washing machine on--nothing in it yet, mind you, I just really like the way it vibrates when it's running. And I'm leaning on the corner of it with my hand stuffed straight down the front of my panties, just diddling myself like it's going out of style. And the whole time I've still got your nasty cum-soaked sheets balled up in my hand, and I'm shoving them straight into my face, just really breathing in the delicious musk of it all. There's really nothing quite as naughty as the stink of freshly spewed cum, is there Bobby? And the more I smelled it, the more I thought of you, and what you must have looked like when it happened. Your firm young body writhing in your sleep while your stiff penis ejaculated, over and over again, into my nice pristine linens. And well, long story short, between that mental image, and the smell of your cum, and the feel of my hand being vibrated hard against my clit, I tell you what, it didn't take long before I was orgasming as well. Just absolutely cumming my old brains out. Thank god I had those dirty sheets to scream into, otherwise you might have heard me and called the police!"

She caught her breath, straightened up a little, and took a long, slow drink of her coffee. "So. That was

my

morning."

I have read that, in situations of extreme trauma, a person will have the sensation of leaving their own body. I'm not going to say that breakfast with Granny was a traumatic event, exactly. But as she continued to speak to me in this new, very different,

very

matter-of-fact way, I felt something shift inside me. It was if I was still there at the table, and still speaking to her, but also, somehow, simultaneously floating at the other end of the kitchen--again, as if I were dreaming--watching it all unfold in front of me, like the world's most disturbingly personal porno movie.

"Stand up, Bobby."

I was immediately conscious again of my now-raging erection. But because it was Granny, I did as I was told, and prayed she wouldn't see it.

"You've got a lot to learn about a woman's pleasure," she said. "And trust me, if I get my way, we are going to be covering that subject in

great

detail. But you're not going to be able to concentrate on anything until we get that pesky boner of yours taken care of."

I gasped out loud. "What?"

"Oh, cut the crap, Bobby. You've had a big ol' boner from the moment you walked in here. Probably before that, too."

I looked down at the bulge in my jeans. Not only was it beyond obvious at this point; there was also, to my horror, a growing wet spot where the end of my dick was.

"I'm sorry, Granny."

"Are you kidding me? There are men who would kill to have a hard-on like yours. Don't you ever apologize for being horny! It means you're young and alive! Now bring that penis over here and let me help you out."

A dream. This had to be another dream. Another very detailed, incredibly fucked-up, very wet dream.

I sleepwalked my way around the table, to where Granny was sitting. With the clinical expediency of a nurse taking my blood pressure, she unzipped my jeans and carefully pulled down the waistband of my underwear. My cock sprung straight out at her, free at last. I saw a clear, slimy gob of precum fly out and splash onto her cheek, and without blinking she wiped it with her finger and stuck it in her mouth.

"Mmmmm," she moaned. "I'll bet there's more where that came from."

She gripped my cock in the palm of her hand, firm but careful, and rose up from her seat. I knew in my heart that I should put a stop to this, even if it was just a dream. I knew I should probably just zip my pants up and run. But, as if anticipating my imagined escape, Granny pressed her body against mine and clenched my prick tighter. I felt my asshole throb from the pressure. She began gently tugging, running her hand gently up the underside of my cock until it jumped again, then grabbing me again firmly at the base, where, to my own shame, I could already feel another massive load building. The way she was working my cock now, I wasn't going to run anywhere soon.

"You see now, Bobby?" she purred into my ear. "Do you feel how good it can be?"