Chapter 1: Caught in the Act
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, CrossDressing, Fiction, Incest, Grand Parent, Spanking, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Slow,
Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1: Caught in the Act - An old woman teaches her Great Grandson about love and sex.
I woke gently from a dreamless sleep and opened my eyes to the glare of an August sun trying to burn its way through the curtains. Pushing the light covers to one side, I groaned a little as I rolled my body to the edge of the bed and sat there for a moment rubbing my right knee. "It'll be raining before the day's out," I muttered to myself. My arthritic knee was as good as those weather people on the radio when it came to predicting the rain.
But my old body was full of aches this morning. It didn't help that it was the anniversary of my Petey's death. I decided to treat myself to a mustard bath to ease my joints. Pulling off my nightie I turned to reach for my bathrobe, catching a glimpse of myself in the dressing table mirror and for a fleeting moment it seemed that the years had stripped away and I had my young body back. I smiled at my overactive imagination and it was my old, wrinkled body which smiled back at me.
I sighed and tried to conjure back that vision of the nubile girl I used to be. Gone now was that young beauty, the face I saw was wrinkled and careworn. I smoothed my bony hands over my hips and thighs as I had done so many times over the years and even attempted a sexy wiggle of my hips but the old bones didn't wiggle; the shrivelled skin just wobbled a bit. The breasts which used to threaten to burst out of any blouse or sweater or DD bra I wore now hung down from my bony chest with the nipples, once so proud and erect, looking at the floor.
I smiled as I noticed the small gold rings through them, remembering the day my Petey held my hand as a strange man had pierced them with a fierce-looking needle and then inserted the bars. I was so proud of myself when I barely flinched. This was years before piercings became commonplace and my various nipple ornaments often brought gasps of surprise when revealed for the first time. As I stood there I twiddled the rings reminiscing about the things Petey, and others, had done to them over the years. It was those memories which kept the rings in place when only I ever saw them. I brushed a tear from my rheumy eye, pulled my bathrobe over my shoulders, wincing at the ache then grabbed my stick and hobbled towards the bathroom.
I wondered why the master bedroom door was open so I looked in and saw Clive, still in his pyjamas, going through his mother's dressing table drawers. He had a lacy red brassiere in one hand and was retrieving a matching pair of panties with the other.
"And what do you think you're doing, young man?" I said in my most imperious voice. As he turned towards me his face went white then suffused to a bright red.
"G-G-Gaygan," he stuttered, "I was ... er ... I er..." He hung his head and looked so pathetic with those incriminating articles dangling from his hands and a tent very quickly deflating between his legs. I stood with my back to the door and stepped backwards until it clicked home. On hearing the door close he looked up in panic like an animal in a trap, the flimsy garments dropping from lifeless hands...
"Well, what are you doing – or what were you about to do?" He remained mute, almost defiant. "Were you going to wear them and then play with yourself?" The blush renewed itself but he remained silent. "Were you?" I snapped harshly.
"Answer me." I demanded. Still not speaking he hung his head again and barely nodded. "Well?"
A tortured voice half whispered, "Yes, Gaygan."
I moved over and sat on the bed. "Then do it, Clive. Here and now, put them on."
"What? No way," he blurted out then stared me in the eyes with mutiny in his. But I had stared down bigger men than him in my life. I had role-played the dominatrix so often it came naturally to me. We remained like that for several minutes, glaring at each other and, as I felt his nerve begin to sway, I allowed a smile to cross my lips. It felt good to be in control again. His eyes slid away from mine and with a defeated sigh started to unbutton his jacket
Clive was my great grandson, 19 and in the prime of his life. Gaygan was what he used to call me when he was just a toddler. He couldn't get his mouth around 'great grandmother' so I became Gaygan and so have been called by all the family ever since.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw him standing before me stripped. I hadn't really noticed it until now: he was a mirror image of my Petey when we were on our honeymoon. Standing at about 5'9", Clive displayed a finely honed body and the cutest bum. His light brown hair fell neatly about his ears and his eyes were deep liquid brown pools framed by sensually long dark lashes. His quiescent manhood twitched as my gaze settled on it. The soft cylinder came to a point where the prepuce closed over the glans penis. It looked unnervingly familiar; half-hiding behind the luxuriant bush of pubic hair, it masked one testicle but revealed the other hanging heavily in the loose, wrinkled sac. Everything so achingly reminiscent of Petey; I was certain that body held no secrets.
My beloved late husband had a massive heart attack 20 years ago – so young, oh so young. It was a few months after he died that my granddaughter Mary, pregnant with Clive, and her husband Jack moved in to my house. They had lost theirs in a business deal which had gone sour through factors totally out of their control and I had a big rambling house which echoed around me. They were currently away on a business stroke holiday trip in Cornwall for the week.
At first I had only intended having a harmless tease with Clive but seeing him like that ignited a once familiar tingle in my clitoris and I found myself with my hand inside my bathrobe fingering my nipple ring.
Now I knew I had him under my control I could relax my psychological grip so I started to reassure him. "Clive, lots of men like ladies' underwear. Your great grandfather often used to wear a pair of my knickers under his trousers. It doesn't mean you're any less the man. Come, give your old Gaygan a kiss then dress up prettily for her."
I pulled my breast into the open as he stepped over and made to kiss my cheek but I turned my head and caught him full on the lips. It was a chaste, closed mouth kiss at first but he held it for a few seconds before finally responded to my probing tongue. Then Clive put one hand at the back of my head, the other over my hand on my tit, twisted the ring and gave me a real toe-curling kiss. Whoosh, it was like a heavy drink. As he stepped back I noticed he was semi-erect, and it had all the signs of being a lovely erection. Again, so much like Petey it was untrue. I kissed the tip of my finger, touched it to the top of his growing penis and said, "Hello, big boy. Are you pleased to see me?" It twitched.
He became more playful as he strapped on the bra. He was very dainty as he stepped into the panties and pulled them up over his now full erection, leaving the tip sticking out above the top.
"Get some of your mother's stockings out and bring them to me," I ordered. I stuffed the B cups with the nylons, squeezed his new tit then turned him round and let him see himself in the mirror. "See, I knew you'd make a pretty girl. But we need to do something with this." I reached round and flicked the top of his penis.
"Come here," I ordered, pulling him round to face me again. I held my breast to him and said, "You play with this while Gaygan gets rid of that silly interruption. He took my flabby old tit but was fascinated by the ring, lifting, tugging and twisting it deliciously.
I pulled his panties down and slid a hot prick in my mouth for the first time in too long. It felt and tasted lovely but now wasn't the time to make love to his penis; I just wanted to get rid of the urgency. He was obviously enjoying himself tripping the light fantastic with my nipple ring so, without any hesitation, I took the erection all the way into my throat although I had to suppress the gagging reflex – it had been so long. Squeezing my throat muscles I milked him and it was only a few seconds until I felt the first pulse travel up his prick and his grip on my tit tightened to the point of delicious pain. I pulled back a little until it was shooting in my mouth: I hungered for the taste again. I cleaned him off then offered up my face for him to kiss me. I think he was a little startled to taste himself in my mouth but he barely hesitated before kissing me right back.
I tucked his softening penis back into the panties and pulled them up again. "Now get one of your mother's pretty dresses and put it on." He turned and opened her wardrobe and took his time picking a red print floral slim-fitting summer dress, held it next to his body and turned with one eyebrow cocked in query. I smiled and nodded so he closed the wardrobe and slipped the dress over his head then turned and showed me.
I clapped my hands in approval and smiled. "Now get yourself some shoes to wear." He found some red slingbacks with a 3" heel and I thought, "He's a bit ambitious." I had to help him loosen the back buckle as his mother's feet were smaller than his but he managed to squeeze into them.
"Oh, you are a pretty girl." I said as he stepped back again. I motioned with my finger, "Twirl round." He obliged then tried to drop a little curtsy, tripped himself up and fell giggling to the floor. "You'll learn!" I told him.