The next morning at breakfast he smiled at me with a twinkle in his eye, but we didn't say a word about our affair the night before. I wondered whether he would play footsie with me under the table or try to sneak a peak of me in the shower, but he minded his manners.
The day seemed to drag on forever. I went out for a jog. He read his newspaper. Somehow he still got one delivered each morning. Out on my jog all I could think about was his rough hands on my body... how he both energized me and made me melt... how much I loved and respected him.
At night we all watched a movie together, my parents, my kid brother, my grandpa and me. I didn't sit beside him because I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off him. I practiced yoga alone in my room until it sounded like everyone had gone to bed. I padded down the hallway softly in my sock feet hoping to find him again alone by the fire, but I saw the fire was out and the room empty. So I stepped silently past my parents room, no light under the door... good, they were asleep. Up the stairs next, in the dark, up to my grandfather's master suite. A dim light glowed from beneath his door... good, he was awake.
"Grandpa?" I whispered, cracking open the door.
"Come on in, my Angel" he replied. As I shut the door behind me I saw him relaxing on his big king size bed reading a big novel, one lamp on, stained glass perched on his bedside table.
"Listen, about last night..." I stammered, not knowing how to even broach the subject.
"It's ok Angel, after all we're both adults now and sometimes adults give in to their, you know, urges." He sounded so wise. I loved that about him.
I approached the bed, my hands nervously twisting behind my back. "I just don't want you to think I'm some kind of stupid slut. I didn't mean to..." I couldn't hold back the tears. I cry so easily sometimes.
"It's ok my Angel! You have nothing to cry about, nothing to apologize for. We both love each other, that's all--"
"But I'm so bad!" I blubbered, stumbling toward him. He caught me I his arms and sat me down beside him on the bed.
"No, my Angel, you're perfect!" he consoled me and hugged me close. He kissed my forehead and just held on to me until I could compose myself.
"Do you really love me, love me like that?" I had to know. I had to hear him say it.
"Yes, Angel. I love you more than words can say. My heart leaps when I see you, the amazing young woman you've become." He sounded so earnest, so kind, so sincere.
"You really love me?" I asked again, holding on to him.
"Yes, my Angel. I love you." He held on to me equally tightly.
"Enough, enough to make love to me?" I could barely form the words.
"Yes, my Angel" he whispered before leaning in to kiss me on the lips. I closed my eyes and let all the emotions of the day finally let go. I craved his lips and finally the feeling of his strong hands on my body.
We leaned back on the bed and held each other, kissing slowly and wrapping our legs together, him in his boxer shorts and me in my tight jogging shorts. I had longed for this moment all day, to finally feel his passion for me rising, to know it wasn't just a foolish accident the night before.
But tonight he hadn't been drinking. Sober and clear headed he seemed to have more purpose and control, more aggression. He pulled off my shirt and kissed greedily down my neck to my chest. He seemed to devour my twin breasts, suckling on them like a starving infant. Every time his teeth grazed my nipples it sent shivers down my spine and I cooed from the intimate pleasure of his affection. I ran my fingers through his grey hair, pulling his head against my bosom.
He had stared at my cleavage long enough. I wanted him to finally enjoy my tits, to indulge his desire to stimulate my milk.
But he wanted more than that. And so did I. Kissing down my stomach he reached my waistband and then pulled my shorts swiftly down my smooth legs I had just shaved. Instantly I knew what he wanted. He had felt my pussy the night before but hadn't seen it. He pushed my legs apart with his strong hands. I eagerly obliged. Suddenly I felt his tongue plunging into me, his lips meeting my freshly shaved and smooth labia.
An orgasm shot up my spine, making me quiver as he pushed my thighs farther apart. His hands rubbed and caressed every part of my body, like he was exploring and worshipping me. I loved to feel his excitement for me, how he focused all his energy and attention on pleasuring me in that moment. My head spun as he devoured my clit and lapped up the wetness seeping out of me. I felt my own emotions rise to a crescendo of love and passion just for him, my secret, my forbidden lover. I held his head in my hands, guiding him as he gave me the kind of oral satisfaction I had only dreamed of receiving from an older man.
He was so very good at this. His tongue worked magic on my smooth labia and flicked across my slit like he was licking his favorite ice cream. I arched my back and moaned, starting to shake uncontrollably; I tried to hold back, but it felt too intense, too special. Suddenly I felt myself release. I know I cried out but only he heard me. I only squirt on rare occasions, when I'm super, super stimulated. But he knew just how to do it. The orgasm took my breath away. I needed that release so badly after the frustration of not being with him all day.
My legs felt like Jello; I could barely catch my breath. I wanted to close my eyes and drift off into a dreamworld, but I could tell he wanted more, much more. I saw him pulling off his shirt and throwing it off to the side. I loved his muscular physique, how he kept himself in shape. I saw my juices glistening on his face by the dim light of the lamp in the room.
Then he kissed his way back up my body, taking his time to greedily suckle on my boobs again before reaching my lips. Again he worshipped me like an idol. It made my heart soar to be the object of his desire like this. I opened my mouth to let his tongue explore me, as I pulled him close against me with all the strength in my arms I could muster. I wanted him as much as he wanted me and we both knew it. My hands slid down his back and under his waistband to find his muscular ass. I squeezed it. I loved how it felt. I loved how he felt. I started pulling his boxers down his legs then he finished the job, kicking them off the bed.
"My Angel, you make me so hard for you..." he whispered.
Instinctively I spread my legs wide for him, wide in the middle of his king size bed on its sturdy wooden frame, as if it were made just for this moment. I reached down to spread my pink for him, but he knew where to find his target. I saw him holding his fully erect cock, guiding it toward me. It looked even bigger than last night. I could see it twitch barely with his pulse, a drop of precum already seeping from his enlarged tip. And I couldn't believe the size of his testicles, not tight against him, but so full and hanging loose, swinging below him.