This is a complete story, although there is a sequel possible if reader interest is there.
***
To the rest of our family, Grandma Rose was - let's be charitable and use the word "eccentric". In the words of my mother, my father's mother was a "nuttier than a fruitcake" and often suggested that she be put in a rubber room somewhere.
To me, Grandma Rose was a breath of fresh air in a family that had more than their share of stuffed shirts and snobs. The beauty of Grandma Rose was that you never knew what she was going to say. She would come up with the wackiest comments, or make the most bizarre Malaprop's you ever heard.
I thought it was all a scam, or at least a good deal of it. I suspected that Grandma Rose was having a little joke with the world, and secretly got a kick out of befuddling people. Furthermore, I thought she knew that I was on to her, which is why we got along so well.
By the time I graduated high school I was spending as much time at Grandma Rose's house as I was my own. Since she lived alone now, having outlived the grandfather that had died before I was born, she said that she liked my company. As for my folks, since I was just in the way most of the time, they were probably just as happy I wasn't there.
Maybe they suspected I was as crazy as Grandma Rose. Who knows? Whatever the reason, I became a fixture there, which is when during the spring of my 18th year, I found out a whole lot more about my Grandma Rose.
****
"You're running a fever, most likely," my Grandma Rose told me when I informed her I wouldn't be going to school that day, and threw the covers up over my head.
Actually, it was a sort of a school holiday that day. Senior Skip Day was a tradition at Glens Falls High School, and I wanted to keep up my end of the deal, so I was planning to stay in bed until noon and then go hang out with friends.
"Grandma!" I moaned when I felt her pull the sheet off of me, and I was glad I was wearing pajamas. "I really don't feel like going."
"I don't give a horse's behind whether you go to school or not. I'll call in for you, but I'm going to take your temperature," she informed me. "Can't have you croaking under my watch."
"What are you doing?" I yelped when I felt Grandma Rose tug my pajamas down.
"Taking your temperature, what do you think I'm doing, silly boy?"
"A rectal thermometer?" I screeched while cupping my genitals and rolling onto my stomach to hide myself. "Gee Grandma Rose, that's prehistoric. They have things you can just touch your forehead with now."
"All that fancy stuff - it doesn't work for beans," Grandma said. "This is the only way to take an accurate temperature."
"Oh man," I moaned, burying my face in the pillow as I heard the sound of a jar being opened.
Vaseline. Good grief, I thought as I watched Grandma Rose dip in finger in the lubricant. Maybe I should have gone to school.
"When did you become so modest?" Grandma asked. "Covering yourself up like that? You used to walk around the house with your twig and berries bouncing around like crazy without a thought."
"I was probably 3 at the time," I mentioned, feeling my Grandma Rose reaching over while telling me to spread them.
"Ready or not," Grandma announced just before I felt the cold greasy finger penetrate my anus.
"Gee," I groaned as I felt my grandmother's finger wiggle around, probing deeper and deeper.
Probably a whole lot deeper than it needed to be lubricated, I mused, but the feeling was so good that I said nothing. The lubing went on for almost a minute, and it was as if Grandma Rose was enjoying this or something.
What was even weirder was that I was getting a boner from this. I mean, my grandmother was cute and I loved her, but she's 60 years old, or damn close to it. She's got her finger in my rectum and I'm getting off on it.
"Now let's see what's cooking inside you," she announced, slipping her finger out of me, and when I wished she had kept doing it, I figured I really must be sick.
The cold tip of the thermometer barely registered when Grandma Rose slipped it in me, and she patted my butt cheeks and thanked me for being such a cooperative patient.
"Couldn't help noticing," Grandma said. "Before you rolled over. Was that hair I saw down there near your dingus? Where did all that come from?"
"My pubes?" I asked, laughing. "Grandma, I'm 18 years old. I'll be 19 by Christmas."
"You'll always be my little guy," Grandma said, swatting my butt cheek again. "Even if you did get as tall as me all of a sudden."
Grandma Rose liked to tease me about my height, or lack thereof, and I was really glad when I finally got taller than Grandma Rose's 5'6" last year.
"Let's see," Grandma said, taking the thermometer out of my rectum and looking at the result. "Says you're normal."
"Oh," I replied.
"Maybe I didn't leave it in long enough," Grandma Rose mused, and reached for the Vaseline again.
This time there was even deeper probing, and I noticed I had begun moving myself into the bedding while Grandma Rose's long, bony finger went in to the hilt. My hand, which I had cupped over my dick when Grandma had pulled my pajamas down, was now holding a cock that was hard as a rock, and I knew if Grandma Rose kept lubricating me like this I was going to pop my load.
"What are you doing down there?" Grandma asked, and before I knew it she was rolling me over onto my back and pulling my hands away from my privates.
"My word!" Grandma said as she stared my erection, which was in full bloom and arching back to my belly button. "Look at the size of the tally-whacker on you!"
I do have a pretty long dick, even if it isn't real thick, and I found myself really turned on by the way Grandma Rose was staring at it. My attempts to cover my stuff up were no match for Grandma Rose's desire to see what I had been trying to hide.
"You really have grown up, haven't you Danny?" Grandma declared. "Haven't seen one that big since - my stars - has to be 40 years ago. I was at a Jefferson Airplane concert at Golden Gate Park when I snuck into the woods with this young fella with dreadlocks and let him diddle me. He had a long one on him too."
"You're way bigger than your Grandpa was, that's for dang sure," Grandma sighed. "Even though it ain't the meat but the motion what counts. I'll bet the young ladies like to ride your pole, don't they Danny?"
"Not really," I admitted.
Grandma Rose's hand slid over onto my hip, and within a few seconds she had my dick in her weathered hand and was pulling it up off of my tummy and inspecting it.
"I feel kinda guilty," Grandma said. "Seeing how I think I caused this. I really shouldn't be doing this, you know. I would hate to have anybody find out about this. You would never say a word to your folks, would you Danny?"
"No," I said, shaking my head violently as Grandma's fingers wrapped around my member.