Ireland in the mid-80s was a truly awful place. It was one of the poorest countries in Western Europe, the catholic church had an iron grip on people's private lives, unemployment was high. It was pre-Celtic Tiger and before the revelations about child sexual abuse knocked the church from their high throne.
I finished secondary school in 1985. I was an 18-year old farmer's son, a big, brawny, brainy lad, awkward and unsure of myself. So when my Aunt Mary had to go to hospital to have her varicose veins treated, I moved into the nearby small midlands town to take care of Granny for a while. I figured it was better than sitting around the house at home arguing with my mum.
Not that Granny was invalided or incapacitated, but to be there to help her out and keep her company, although I'd still be needed out on the farm a few days per week. At 82, she was still alert and mobile, but she needed help at night, apparently. She moved around the house just fine and sometimes even walked into the little shop around the corner to natter with the neighbours.
She lived with her unmarried daughter we called Aunt Mary, sometimes affectionately referred to by others in the family as "old metal belly". We called her that because her shape was so round and strong. Her body looked fat, but also hard. Huge breasts, enormous belly, massive arse. But unlike other women of similar dimensions she didn't jiggle as she walked. It all looked very firmly packaged, hence the nickname.
My granny on the other hand had a refined gentle elegance. She was quite tall, taller than the average man. And even though her posture had stooped a little and she needed a stout stick to help herself walk, she was still quite a presence. She had a strong frame and fine bone structure you noticed straight away in her physique and her face. But of course her flesh had loosened away from her bones with the passage of years. She always dressed in ornate floral frocks and wore a tiny splash of rose-smelling perfume. She was kind and I always loved her.
So when on the first night of Aunt Mary's stay in hospital I overheard her sniffling and crying in her room I was concerned. I knocked on the door. "Granny is everything ok?". She invited me in was standing by her dressing table holding a jar of ointment. She wore a very long, modest flannel nightdress, buttoned up to her neck and down to her ankles.
"Mike, can you help your old granny?"
"Of course granny, anything for you"
"With the pain in my wrists, it's too awkward for me to apply my ointment. I hate to ask you. Mary always does it for me, you see. It's my psoriasis you see. But it's a little embarrassing, is that ok?"
"Of course Granny, I came here to look after you and that's what I'll do, whatever it takes."
"Ooh you're a good boy" she said. She turned her back to me and slipped her night dress from her shoulder, baring the top half of her back. Her skin had red patches. She pointed to a tube and I screwed off the top and started to rub it gently into the affected areas. "I have to lie down for the next part". Her large saggy breasts swayed as she moved to the bed and I clearly saw the shape of her body through her single layer of cotton.
She lay down and without ceremony reached inside and took out her right breast, holding it up to the light. And sure enough, I could see how the skin from the tip of her nipple, and from her areola back along her breast, was dry, papery and cracked. She stretched out on the bed covers with her eyes closed. It was a beautiful mild summer night. In the old tracksuit cutoff shorts and t-shirt I wore as pyjamas I felt self-conscious and afraid she'd see the hard-on I had sprouted for my grandmother. So I turned off the harsh overhead light and allowed the dim reading light to take over instead.
Taking a small bean of the sweet-smelling cream (was this where her lovely smell came from?) I lifted her breast in my other hand and applied it gently, starting on the white skin outside her areola. I'd never touched a breast as intimately. I moved the luxurious lotion slowly around her nipple, spreading it carefully into the driest areas. Then I took another dab and applied it directly to her nipple. It must have been cold to the touch, as she gave an audible sharp inhalation and I watched her nipple visibly tighten up and harden in front of me, and protruded nearly a centimetre out from the rest of her body.
"Now Mike give it just a little pinch" she asked and I used her nipple to raise the breast up off her body and allowed it to slip slowly through my fingers and fall back on her belly, pinching and rolling her as it fell.
Reaching inside her clothes again she lifted out her left breast. "Same again Mike please".
This time I raised the entire breast in my hand. It was wrinkled and saggy but not entirely empty. There was still some weight and substance. It stretched down to her belly button so I could imagine how big it must have been in her younger days. Taking more cream, I held it and rolled it between my two hands, gently stroking her until her dry skin had soaked it in. With a supplementary dab, I circled and rubbed and pinched her breast tips.
Never before had I experienced such eroticism. I'd kissed Catherine Kelly and rubbed her tits through her clothes a few times but nothing like this. I felt a damp patch on my PJs from pre-cum.
She smiled and whispered "thank you my darling, goodnight" We kissed farewell and I went to my own room for a wank, followed by another wank, before I could get to sleep.
