Chapter 01
Seventy-year-old Jane Markey was looking forward to her family's visit. The old farm was remote and lonely since her husband died a few years ago. Her nearest neighbor and long-time friend, Helen Crump, also a widow, was two miles down the blacktop.
She was particularly interested in seeing her grandson, Ed. His eighteenth birthday was last week, and she had a surprise for him and, by extension, the rest of her family.
To prevent her family from seizing her farm, her attorneys placed it in trust for Ed. The trust would pay for his college education and provide a small income. It would pass from him to his children and grandchildren, preventing his parents from squandering it.
She stood in the doorway as the old minivan pulled down the gravel driveway. She watched her son, Claude, his wife, Emma, and her grandson, Ed, pile out of the van.
"Momma! How are you?"
While embracing his mother, Claude surveyed the 1000-acre expanse of the farm. The trip had an ulterior motive. He needed to convince her to sell the farm. His financial situation was desperate. Bad investments aggravated by an inept strategy had him near bankruptcy.
"Fine, son! Just fine!"
Jane eyed her daughter-in-law Emma over his shoulder. After 20 years of marriage, their relationship was like the situation on the Korean Peninsula. It was an uneasy truce punctuated by outbreaks of limited hostility.
"Jane! It's so good to see you!"
The greeting was as insincere as the air kisses they exchanged. Emma Markey was jealous of her mother-in-law's hold on her husband. The old bitch kept him and, by extension, her, tied to her by her Scrooge-like doling of the income from the very successful farm.
"Ed! Come here, boy. My, how you've grown!"
Jane hugged the truculent teenager. He reminded her of her deceased Tom. The lump she felt pressed against her thigh said he was also well-endowed like her late husband.
"Hi, Nana!"
Ed reluctantly accepted her embrace as her large breasts pressed into his chest. She smelled vaguely of lavender powder and vodka. Despite squirming in her embrace, he liked her. She was honest and open, unlike his parents.
"Come inside out of this heat! I have some iced tea. It was too hot to cook, so I ordered some snacks from the store in town. Oh! And Helen Crump, my neighbor, sent me a couple dozen homemade chocolate chip cookies!"
This batch of cookies was supposed to be regular cookies, not the usual THC-infused cookies that Helen made with her potent cannabis-infused butter. She cultivated and crossbred her cannabis plants. Over the years, she had developed a strain that was extremely high in THC, high enough to have an aphrodisiac effect.
Helen's cookies were renowned in the small farming community where she lived. Some of the farmers ascribed their large families to eating Helen's cookies.
Unfortunately, her 70-year-old friend, who was suffering from limited dementia, mistakenly sent the wrong cookies.
"We stopped on the road and had dinner. But the cookies sound yummy!"
The family sat around the hand-hewn oak table and chairs, which were of similar construction. Jane's deceased husband, Tom Markey, was handy around the house.
His son eyed the various pieces of oak furniture, estimating what they would bring in an estate sale.
Jane gazed at her family as they gorged on the spiked chocolate chip cookies. She ate a couple, then sipped her iced tea laced with vodka. They were a greedy bunch. She knew they were out to get her money and farm by any means necessary. She and her attorneys had made provisions to prevent them from declaring her incompetent and seizing her assets.
She hoped she could save her grandson from the influence of his parents. She planned to announce her plans to them on this trip.
Jane felt light-headed, like when she ate too many of Helen's marijuana-infused cookies. She had a horrible thought. Helen was getting a little senile. Had she...?
"You guys enjoy the cookies. I need to call my neighbor!"
The phone call confirmed her suspicions. Helen sent the wrong cookies!
Jane hurried back to the kitchen. She hoped to stop her family from eating too many cookies. Unlike the quick high from smoking marijuana, ingesting them caused a slower, longer-lasting high. And based on the farmers she shared the cookies with, they had a strong aphrodisiac effect.
"Are you guys okay?"
"Just fine!"
Claude's arm inscribed an arc as he semaphored it above his head. His eyes were overly bright and moist. One hand caressed his wife's bare thigh.
"Absolutely!"
Emma sat wide-leg with her full skirt pulled high on her thighs. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing a pink demi bra encasing small C cups. The heat, vodka-infused tea, and THC cookies had her feeling loose and horny.
That same combination caused her son, Ed, to have a silly grin on his face. His libido was also being affected. He was in his Oedipal phase and found himself hungrily eyeing his mother's cleavage. He was at that age where she occupied most of his sexual fantasies. Under the kitchen table, his hand was in his lap, stroking his cock through his jeans.
"OKAY," he exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly.
Jane was also under the influence of the mind-altering substances. However, she was a regular user and knew how to handle the effects. As usual, the combination made her horny.
Since her husband died, she has satisfied that itch with her fingers and/or her extensive collection of toys. Occasionally, she and Helen Crump scratched that itch together. However, her long-time friend and lover's arthritis was bad enough that they could only use toys or eat each other! No more tribbing!
She moistened her lips and eyed the massive bulge in her grandson's jeans.
The boy was hung like his grandfather. She wondered if he had his grandfather's sexual stamina. Tom Markey could do more things with a pussy than the romance novels she read could ever think of.
She and her girlfriend Helen down the road were thoroughly fucked by their husbands on those long Michigan winters. They would get naked and lie on the old bearskin rug in front of the roaring fireplace and fuck, switching partners and positions several times during the night. The four of them never considered themselves swingers; they were friends sharing each other.
After Helen's husband died, Tom Markey did yeoman duty, fucking her and Jane regularly. Not only could he hold off cumming until he wanted, he recovered quickly.
Tom's death a few years ago left the two septuagenarians in a constant state of arousal. Occasionally, they took one of the seasonal workers to their beds.
"You guys are probably tired from the drive. I've fixed up the guest room for you, Emma, and Claude. Why don't you lie down for a while?"
She hoped they would sleep off the effects of the marijuana-infused cookies without her having to confess to what they were. She knew they were looking for an excuse to declare her incompetent. Accidentally drugging them would be an ideal excuse.
"Sounds like a plan!"
Claude struggled to his feet, stumbled, and balanced himself on the back of the kitchen chair. When his concerned mother wrapped her arm around his waist to prevent him from falling, he uncharacteristically squeezed her bottom.
"You coming, Emma?"
"I'm not tired! I'm going to sit on the porch for a while."
Emma struggled to her feet and staggered through the kitchen to the screened-in porch. The porch faced the yard, with the country road off to one side and the fields to the other side. Several well-worn loungers were scattered about.
Jane, Helen, and their husbands used to indulge their exhibitionist streak here, fucking at night with the porch light on. The occasional horn blaring told them they had been seen.
Lately, Emma had been experiencing hot flashes, night sweats, and reduced sex drive associated with menopause. Her doctor had her stop using birth control and prescribed Hormone Replacement Therapy.
HRT worked, but one of the unexpected side effects was an increased sex drive. She and her husband used condoms to prevent an unwanted pregnancy on the few times a month that they had sex.
As Jane turned to her grandson, the phone rang. Her gaze scanned from her son staggering down the hall to the guest bedroom to Emma staggering out to the lounger on the porch.
As she picked up her cell phone, she noticed Ed eyeing his mother's ass as she lurched out of the kitchen.
"Helen, you didn't! Okay! Okay! I'll run down for a moment."
Helen had accidentally made two batches of marijuana-infused cookies! She gorged herself on the THC-infused cookies, thinking they were the regular ones. Now she was fucked up and needed help getting to bed.
Ed sat on the edge of the kitchen table, staring at his mother's ass as she stumbled out to the porch. Like most boys his age, he harbored repressed sexual fantasies about his mother. The cookies had reduced his normal inhibitions and increased his lust.
"Ed! Stop eating the cookies. They are marijuana-infused." Jane trusted her grandson and knew he wouldn't tell his parents.
Ed blinked owl-eyed at his Nana as he processed what she was saying. He smoked reefer and occasionally purchased gummies at the local dispensary. However, he had nothing as mind-altering as these homemade cookies.
"This is some primo shit, Nana!"
"Yes, Helen Crump, down the road, perfected a strain of plant with unusually high levels of THC."
Ed stood and embraced his grandmother, his hand dropping to cup her big floppy ass. He lifted the hem of her house dress and was surprised to discover she didn't have panties on
"Mmm! Commando! Nice, Nana!"
"No bra either! It's too hot!"
Ed ran a finger between his Nana's ass cheeks, probing her anus with his index finger.
"It's been years since anyone played with my starfish," Jane groaned. She pushed back, and the first joint of her grandson's finger slipped into her rectum.
Briefly, Jane allowed him to grope her, enjoying the young man fingering her anus. Her hand slipped between them, and she stroked his cock through his jeans. He was bigger than his grandfather!
Her grandson's free hand lifted the front of her dress, and he stroked her engorged labia.
Jane was surprised but delighted that her eighteen-year-old grandson was interested in her. However, she called a halt when he bent her over the kitchen table and lifted her dress. She had to get Helen, who was inebriated, to bed.
