Counter Surveillance

by

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/Fa, Consensual, Fiction, Cheating, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Voyeurism, BBW, Big Breasts, Hairy, Small Breasts, Nudism, .

Desc: Sex Story: A techie nerdy lad visits his nudist grandparents. He is a skilled voyeur with cameras - but so are they and their promiscuous friends.

Originally created in 2004, I have edited and hopefully improved this tale.

“He seems to be in there a long time,” Edith Ward murmured to Henry, as she hovered near the bathroom door.

“Leave him, just settling in and a bit nervous dear. He’s been into town and got some things, since he arrived this morning, just finding his way round.”

“Hmm. He did look a bit peeky when he came back. Wonder if he’s OK, not ill or something. But he has stayed with us before,” she whispered, standing near the door, fingers to her lips.

“Yes, but not here and he was much younger then and Pat and Dave were with him at the old house. It’s all new to him, come on I’ll make us a nice cup of tea. He’ll be out in a minute.”

The elderly couple shuffled down the hallway of their new neat bungalow and surveyed the tidy small garden, alive with birds on the many feeding stations round their plot

“Phew! It’s hot again. How long do they expect this heat wave to continue,” said Edith, swiping her heavily veined, liver spotted hand over her furrowed brow.

“Don’t know, maybe a day or two it said on the Beeb if you can believe them,” chuckled Henry.

“But I’m loving it.”

“It’s all right for you men walking round in just your shorts,” she responded, glancing at her bald headed, six feet tall, thin husband’s mahogany tanned torso and the ancient athletic shorts he wore.

“Well you would normally be nude wouldn’t you, if Tim wasn’t here. Just a point – or two by the way ... er...” he chuckled. “Shouldn’t you wear a bra, I mean your nips are up like bloody great peanuts?”

Edith slanted her face down her expansive, well-upholstered chest and saw the direction of his nod.

“Hmm. Maybe, never thought about. It doesn’t matter when we have the girls to stay, they seem to accept that part of a woman’s body.”

“Yes but they’re usually round eight or ten anyway. It wouldn’t even enter their pretty little heads,”

Henry giggled, pouring water into the teapot, his mind wandering to some recent tasty visions and how he entered some pretty little heads.

“Oh Hi Tim, you OK?”

“Cool thanks Pops,” answered the fourteen-year-old bespectacled youth, entering with a sniff, the incessant sniff and the equally non-stop nudge of his wired glasses up his nose.

His grandmother peered closely at the lad as he entered the kitchen, noticing how he had started to grow some facial hair, then reached for a glass for him. Tim peered closely at her huge nipple bulges through the thin almost threadbare, pale grey, sweaty, outsize vest she had stretched over her ample bosom. The armholes of the garment were wide, sweat stained and loose and he saw the bunch of damp hair under where the slightly tauter flesh of her bingo wings melded with her front chest. The wide low neck betrayed much sun effect, giving her tanned and slightly freckled skin the texture of crepe. When her tits were squashed together, the crease of her cleavage widened into a web of tiny wrinkles.

“Cool, he says. Do you hear that Henry - and he’s wearing a tee shirt and a polo shirt and jeans?” chortled Edith, getting orange juice from the fridge and handing it to Tim.

“You found everything you needed this morning?” asked Henry.

“Yeah, you know Pops,” replied Tim, sipping his juice. “You think you have packed everything and there’s always something.”

“Glad you got it all,” murmured Edith.

Collectively they wandered out into the garden and lounged on reclining chairs, chatting about Tim’s schoolwork, his hopes and aspirations and in turn the intelligent and streetwise boy asked them about their house move and health.

“Well of course we still carry on with our fostering, but now we have downsized. We are realising that as we get older, too many young girls running around is a lot to handle, we can only take one child at a time, but if the demand is there and it always seems to be, we might get some new bunks like those old ones we had and scrapped,” said Henry, puffing on his briar pipe, knowing quite well that would be the next purchase. “Anyway you are the first to use the bedroom since we moved in. we took a few weeks to move and rest too, I mean those youngsters can wear us two old wrinklies down after a while.”

“I’ll bet,” agreed Tim, noting the glance and smile between his grandparents, thinking what a wonderful example they set to society with their non-stop help for unwanted children.

“You were into radio or something weren’t you Pops,” Tim queried.

“Started off there Tim and went into TV. Cameras and sound combined, loved it.”

“He ended up as BBC station chief for the South,” added Edith, with obvious pride. “Of course that was many moons ago, but he can’t help tinkering with it, loves gadgets and stuff. I’m amazed at what he can turn his hand to.”

“That shed over there is stuffed with my gear and I’ll soon have it sorted and playtime will start again,” chortled Henry.

“Bad news for me that is Tim,” said Edith. “When your grand dad locks himself away in there, it seems he has gone for ever, but he always surprises me at the end, don’t you darling?”

The grins and hand touching were all evidence Tim needed, if he indeed was seeking any, that the senior members of his family were happy with their lot.

“Dad and Mum OK?” asked Edith. “They were brilliant with helping us move.”

“Fine, send their love,” replied Tim, thinking of how especially fine a mother he had.

“So two days then you’re off to France with the school?” asked Henry.

“Yeah should be good. Thanks for letting me stay here. Mum and Dad have gone on their annual cruise for four weeks and the builders are in knocking the place around as you know. Oh! by the way, got to be at the terminal by six o’clock on Saturday.”

The old Ward couple got on with their chores and gardening, while Tim did some reading then retired to his bedroom. Some packaging was screwed up and put into his bag, didn’t want that to be found – he mused, then he opened his laptop. He cleared some emails, dabbled on Facebook until he heard a small swear word outside the window. He stood and gazed through the net curtains to see Edith bending over the flowerbeds right under his window. Her vest hung wide, the neck hung low below her torso and her heavy 50DD breasts wobbled and rolled as she struggled with something.

Tim gasped and grabbed his digital camera, switched to movie format and aimed at the vast cleavage exposed, loving the way the big balloons knocked each other about. Luckily there was a gap at the side of the nets he could get a clear view. Her straw like, bleached blonde/grey, straw like hair fell round her face a few times, but didn’t hinder his view.

Tim’s steady hand ensured the camera stayed on the subject as he checked the rest of the garden to see if his grandfather was still out and sure enough he had a rear view of Henry as he bent double, outstanding for his seventy seven years, on the far side of the small lawn to attend to some weeds, Henry also offered a remarkable view of one of his balls which had slid out of the side of the very worn inner slip of his tiny nylon running shorts. Noting how low it was dangling, Tim turned his attention back to Edith.

Licking his young voyeur lips he zoomed in on her tits and wondered if that dark area was one of her gigantic nipples, they sure looked big compared to his Mum’s who had soft, wide, pale areolae with hardly any bulb. The sixty eight year old shifted nearer the window giving Tim an even closer look at her huge hangers wobbling free, then being mashed together, making her vast cleavage crease right up to her neck as Edith grasped a reluctant root and pulled it. She nearly fell backwards when it finally unearthed and it was a wonderful vision of her boobs rolling and thrusting as she steadied herself until returning to squat. Some more prodding and pulling afforded him wonderful cleavage footage, until finally she swivelled upwards and round, now offering her large butt to his prying camera and Tim saw the tell tale line of her knickers, complete with the cross seam of the gusset beneath the grey flannel shorts, one hemline did seem to be almost lost up her crack ‘a wedgie’ he mused.

He remembered the pale pink pair of plain large cut knickers he had found raiding the laundry basket shortly after arriving that morning and wondered how long they had been in there. Whilst dry and not warm, they still had a strong cunt aroma on the slightly stained, cotton gusset. M&S size 16, he noted as he sniffed them hungrily but carefully leaving them in the same place. He felt satisfied that his investigations, then subsequent trip into town on a buying mission would prove fruitful and all would soon be revealed.

Edith waddled over the lawn to consult with Henry and Tim stopped recording, he would have plenty of opportunities in the coming week abroad, so to voyeur his old grandparents, was just a bonus he hadn’t thought about. The French family he was to stay with in Dijon looked ideal material for his solitary amusement. Solitary initially, until it was broadcast to his little clique of Internet friends.

.... There is more of this story ...

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