An incest tale between a grandmother and grandson again. Someone made a comment about there not being much of that combination around, so...
It starts off with Daniel and his grandmother dressing the Christmas Tree.
I hope you enjoy the following. Please forgive any errors which remain in the text.
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Thanks for reading.
GA -- Cancun, Mexico -- 22nd of November 2016.
One
She had a hand on my leg, the pressure from her fingers high on my thigh. My cock was hard. From where I was I could see into her blouse, straight down the precipitous cleavage, the smooth inner flanks of her large breasts pressed together to form an enticing crease.
I was so horny I could have just slipped a hand in there and given the orbs a squeeze. Almost did. The desire was hot inside me and I really needed relief, the lust making me reckless.
"Don't fall," she said, like I'd do it on purpose.
"Don't worry," I told her. "It's almost finished.
Her fingers squeezed my thigh and then slid an inch or two higher. Right over the ridge of my cock where it was trapped inside my clothing.
She let out a small cry and then let go. The ladder teetered for a couple of dangerous seconds, then righted itself while I felt fear squeeze my guts.
"Sorry," she blurted, flustered, face turning red. "I ... I ... I didn't mean to..."
I forgot about the angel, a mix of arousal and mortification inside me when I came down off the ladder.
"Shit," I hissed, close to panic.
We were in her living room; a place I was very familiar with because I'd known it all my life. The three-piece suite was a new addition, as was the carpet, but the old Welsh dresser had been there for as long as I could remember, it's shelves just about covered by the Wedgewood jasperware she'd been collecting for at least four decades. A few of those pottery pieces were gifts from me. Even as the heady combination of high arousal and fright swirled with humiliation, I was still vaguely aware of the photograph portrait of my late grandfather staring down at me from where it hung on the wall. It was like he knew what I'd been thinking, like he knew I'd lusted after his widow and wanked myself to orgasm while imagining all manner of lewdness with her.
It was there in his expression, hard eyes set on me:
Incest, you dirty little bastard. She's your grandmother. You can't fuck your own mother's mother.
And I knew he was right to be glowering at me. I understood that it was wrong to wank off while imagining my grandmother's tits, but, the thing is, she was just too sexy and lovely for me to give it up.
I tossed the angel figure onto the three-seater sofa, cheeks on fire, guts watery with dread at what she might say.
"Gran, I'm sorry," I blurted.
Her eyes were wide as she gaped at me from a few feet away.
My grandmother gawped for half-a-minute or more, her stare fixed to my face while her expression slowly shifted from shock to puzzlement. I saw her eyes move from me to the tall Christmas tree to my left. Then she glanced at the figurine I'd chucked onto the settee.
"I'm sorry," I said, repeating the apology because I had nothing else to say. And what could I say? What words could I use to dispel the horror of my own grandmother touching my hard-on?
She continued to gaze at me for a moment more, then blinked and sucked in a breath. Gave me a tight little smile, the look more of chagrin than anything else.
She surprised me with her response.
"Sorry for what?" my grandmother asked. She shrugged and added, "You haven't done anything wrong. It was my fault for touching you there."
My grandmother looked at the angel figure again. Then she turned her focus to the top of the tree, dangling baubles aglitter, the lights strung out and around and just waiting for the flick of the switch to set the winking and blinking.
"Get back up on the ladder, Daniel," she said. "Finish the job, eh? Then we can have a nice cup of tea."
Trust her to use a nice cup of tea as the cure of all ills and social embarrassment.
"You sure?" I said, looking at her, my face still hot.
She nodded and smiled. "Oh, yes. I'm sure. Don't be silly. Come on, get back on the ladder. Just the angel to go."
The desire slid over me once again as I took the first couple of rungs on the step-ladder. I climbed another foot higher and looked down to see the gape of her blouse.
"Come on," she said, interrupting the quick rush of fantasy inside my head. "Here, put her on top."
I took the angel from my grandmother's fingers and took another step up.
"Careful," she said, a hand on my leg.
Her touch set me to wobbling and she cried out again, clutching at me.
"God, Daniel! Do be careful," my grandmother yelped. "Don't fall. I've got you," she finished."
I gasped and paused, blinking as I took another glance down into her cleavage, the deep crease a magnet for my gaze, my cock at full tumescence.
"Okay," I gasped, anxious to get the job done and get down off the ladder. Any more of the distraction because of her boobs and I would definitely fall to the floor.
I wanted to get the damned angel on top of the tree so I could get off the ladder and get out of the house and away from her so I could calm down and allow my erection to subside. If I didn't get away soon, I'd go mental with desire. Being near her was sending me mad. No cup of tea could soothe the ravening beast inside me. The only cure was to tug my dick and set the cum spitting out of my cock.
At last the angel was set, and I'd just let out a sigh of relief when her hand found the ridge of my cock.
I heard my grandmother whisper, "Oh, God, it's so bloody stiff."
Then she was looking up into my face, a strange expression set to her features.
"Is that because of me?" my grandmother mumbled, words clotted and thick.
Her eyes dragged the truth from me. I looked at her face and just confessed it to her.
I nodded and gulped out a, "Yes."
She stared at me for what felt like a very long time. I was still on the ladder, perfectly still, our gazes locked while her fingers very gently caressed the outline of my dick.
"I ... I think you should come down here," my grandmother said on a whisper.
I stayed where I was, her fingers still squeezing my cock, the pre-cum sliding into my boxers. I could feel the slick goo dribbling into my underwear, the lust bubbling inside me.
I stammered, "Wuh-what are you going to do?"
My grandmother heaved a sigh, her stare fixed on my face as she slowly shook her head from side-to-side.
As I watched, her throat went tight. She gulped and said, "I don't know. But I want you to get down from there, Daniel."
***
I first recognised my grandmother as a woman, as a person, really, on her fifty-ninth birthday. It had been back in September, a big celebration as always. My mother is prone to lavish displays. She's made a lot of money through a successful career; and since she's got the means, she'll throw cash at anything to do with the family. Her sister needs a new car, my mother will 'lend' her the money. A birthday party? Let's make it huge.
So, there we were in the function room of the best place in town. Sumptuous buffet and a free bar. It was busy in there, lights down low because the guest-of-honour was on her way. Then my grandmother made her entrance, the white sheath dress moulded to her body, those curves sending my chin down to the floor.
Since when did my grandmother get hot?
I thought she looked sensational, a real glamour-girl with acres of dΓ©colletage on teasing display, her boobs bubbling out of the dress, freshly coloured, honey-blonde hair a work of art in a casual, messy style she had pinned up on top of her head as she beamed her pleasure at her family and friends.
The effect upon me was a pivotal event in my life. In that defining moment, I was erect in an instant, already thinking about how it would be to free her breasts and suck on her nipples. I thought about that dress up past her hips as she leant forward and let me fuck at her pussy from behind. I could squeeze her big boobs and fuck into her body, squirting my need inside her as I gasped and groaned and told her I loved her.
When she came over to me and offered her cheek for a birthday kiss, I was tempted to kiss her mouth and slip her the tongue, the night and the sight locked in my mind so I could masturbate often and think dirty thoughts, cum spitting forth as I moaned and gasped and lusted after my grandmother's body.
After that, I couldn't keep away from her house. I found excuses to visit. I did small repair jobs for her, took her shopping and gave her a lift to -- and picked her up from -- the airport when she went on a sunshine holiday a few days before we were in her living room dressing the Christmas tree.
The week she spent away was torture for me. I imagined my grandmother fucking some random lover. It was awful to think of her spreading her legs and groaning as a man used his cock in her pussy. In torment, I pictured her laid out by a swimming pool, her skin tanned and slick with the lotion while someone else pawed at her boobs and kissed her mouth.
On the drive back from the airport, I kept on looking at my grandmother's legs, her skirt high on her thighs, the jealousy curdling inside me as she chatted on and on about what a great time she'd had. I wanted to ask if she'd met any men, but couldn't find any appropriate way to go about it, my attention flicking down to her thighs while I reassured myself that she hadn't mentioned any new man in her life, so that must mean there wasn't.
As Christmas approached, I took her into the city so she could shop for Christmas gifts, the parking a nightmare, the shops one huge rugby scrum as people went mental.
Then she mentioned the tree was being delivered, with me, of course, volunteering to help dress it.
Which is why I was up on that ladder, my cock so stiff it could qualify as an offensive weapon, my grandmother's eyes locked on my face.
"Why are you hard?" my grandmother asked as I climbed down.
I couldn't look her in the face. I just looked at my feet and mumbled, "I ... I don't know."
"You said it was for me," my grandmother pointed out.
"No," I groaned. "I ... Shit, gran..."
"If it's for me, you should show me," she said.
To say I was stunned is an understatement. I couldn't believe what she'd said and just gawped back into her face.
"Come on, Daniel," she sighed, apparently exasperated. "Don't muck about. I know you've been perving at my breasts. I've seen you, sweetheart."
After that, while I stood there and gaped, my grandmother unzipped and reached in for my dick.
"Don't worry," she breathed as she stroked my length. "I'll do it. You're obviously shocked." My grandmother giggled and rolled her eyes. "Didn't expect this, eh, Daniel?" she asked, eyes glittering as she smirked at me with devilment in her expression, fist working my length. "So don't worry about a thing. You just let me take care of you."