Chapter 7

The bedroom had gone quiet, but sleep refused to come.

Tommy was the first to crack the door open, his hair tousled, eyes squinting in the low light. “It’s too hot to sleep,” he mumbled, padding barefoot across the floor.

Mia followed close behind, wrapping her arms around her middle with a pout. “Ugh, it’s like a sauna in there. We’re both just rolling around like rotisserie chickens.”

Linda chuckled softly from the bed, where she lay still catching her breath beside Benny and Jon. Benny looked dazed, his chest rising and falling in slow, dreamy waves. Jon was sprawled next to him, equally spent.

Mia squinted at the scene and raised a brow, catching the afterglow hanging in the air. “Sooo...” she drawled, mischievous as ever, “what exactly happened in here while we were suffering in the heat?”

Linda gave a mock-innocent shrug, reaching for a wet towel by the bedside. “Nothing happened,” she said impishly, even as she gently wiped the slick mess from her fingers—the unmistakable evidence of Benny’s climax still warm on her skin. She turned and wiped Jon’s hand, too, with affectionate precision.

Mia let out a bark of laughter. “Uh huh. Totally nothing. Just a very sweaty cuddle, right?”

Tommy grinned, a little pink in the cheeks but clearly amused.

Linda tossed the towel in the hamper and stood, stretching lazily. “Come on,” she said, voice low and warm. “Let’s get something cold to drink. I need air before I start glowing in the dark.”

They slipped out onto the patio together—Linda, Jon, Mia, Benny, and Tommy—naked and glistening under the soft porch lights, their skin kissed by sweat and candlelight.

The air outside had turned velvet—still warm, sweet with lilac, and unusually soft for a Nordic night. A few candles flickered on the railing, casting golden halos over bare shoulders and thighs.

Mia and Linda leaned side by side against the railing, hips tilted, holding tall glasses of chilled white wine. Slim vapes glowed between their fingers, glowing like fireflies in the dusk. They drank, they puffed, they exhaled like queens.

Their bodies shimmered in the low light—Mia in her playful ease, Linda in her quiet sensuality, both glowing from the wine and from something deeper.

Benny curled into one of the cushioned chairs, a blanket thrown loosely over his lap, nursing a cold can of beer. His eyes were heavy-lidded, content.

Tommy sat on the railing beside him, legs swinging slightly, holding his own glass with two hands. He took a cautious sip—and immediately scrunched up his face.

Mia noticed and nudged Linda. “Look at him. So funny...”

Tommy coughed. “It’s like drinking firewood.”

Jon, lounging nearby with his legs stretched out, chuckled and handed him a cold beer from the cooler. “Here, hero. Let’s not light you on fire just yet.”

Tommy took it with exaggerated gratitude. “Thank you,” he muttered, casting a grin at Benny, who looked back at him with lazy affection.

Linda sipped her wine and let out a satisfied groan, pressing the back of her hand to her chest. “Is it just me, or is it stupid hot tonight?”

Mia smirked. “Nope. That’s just you. You’re melting.”

Linda giggled, tipsy and golden, and turned to lean her elbows on the railing. The pose made her hips arch just so, her breasts hanging heavy in the candlelight.

“I kind of wish someone would make love to me right now,” she said, half to herself, half to the night. “Just ... right here. Like I’m dessert.”

The air stilled.

Mia licked her lips, eyes twinkling. “Well damn. That’s the sexiest room-service order I’ve ever heard.”

Benny looked up from his beer, cheeks warm—not just from the alcohol. Something stirred deep in him. He looked at his grandmother, her back arched, her breath slow, her body gleaming in the candlelight. She turned her head slightly and smiled at him.

“Do you want me to, Gramma?” he asked quietly.

Linda’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, sweetheart. I really, really do.”

He set his beer down, his chest rising as he exhaled, and walked over slowly—as if in a dream, or underwater, his whole world shrinking down to her curves, her glow. His eyes were fixed on her beautiful body. Her breasts, full and soft, swayed as she pushed her hips back in anticipation, offering herself without shame, only desire. It took his breath away.

Is this real? he wondered. Am I really about to do this?

He felt high—on love, on passion, on the sheer overwhelming beauty of it all.

Jon watched him with soft pride, his eyes warm. Mia stepped aside to give him room, but stayed close, her fingers trailing lovingly across his back.

Benny moved behind Linda, hands trembling slightly as they found her hips. He leaned in and kissed her shoulder, letting his lips linger. She sighed and leaned into the kiss, her whole body softening.

Mia leaned her chin on his shoulder and whispered, “Take your time, baby. Just make her feel how much you adore her.”

Benny reached down, his fingers trembling as they wrapped around his cock—thick and flushed with need. He guided himself to Linda’s dripping center, nudging against her slick folds, and slowly pressed in. The moment he breached her heat, he gasped—staggered by how wet, how hot, how welcoming she was.

“Fuck...” he whispered, hips trembling.

Linda cried out softly, her voice lush and throaty. “Yes, baby. That’s it ... oh God, Benny, you feel incredible. So full ... so deep...”

Her body arched instinctively, her ass pushing back to swallow him whole, inch by aching inch. She took every bit of him with a greedy moan. “Just like that, sweetheart. Don’t stop. Give it to me...”

Jon stepped up behind Benny like a steady shadow. One hand slid to the small of his grandson’s back, grounding him, while the other traced his arm slowly. He leaned in, his lips brushing Benny’s ear.

“You’re doing perfect,” Jon whispered. “Feel her. Feel us.”

He kissed the side of Benny’s neck, slow and gentle, moving with him—an anchor, a current of silent love threading them all together.

Linda clung to the railing, her knuckles pale, her breath catching with every deep, reverent thrust. “That’s it, baby,” she moaned. “You’re so good ... so inside me ... You’re filling Gramma up so perfectly.”

Benny couldn’t breathe. His body moved on instinct now—hips meeting hers in slow, firm rhythm, the wet slap of his cock buried inside her echoed with her sighs and moans.

“You feel like heaven,” he panted, eyes fluttering. “Your pussy’s so warm, so tight—I can’t believe how lucky I am...”

Mia leaned in, brushing kisses along Linda’s shoulder, then her neck. She licked behind her ear and whispered with a wicked little smile, “You’re so pretty when you’re stuffed, Lindy ... You make the sweetest faces when he’s deep.”

The candlelight flickered like breath. Shadows danced over golden skin and flushed cheeks. The scent of sex and wine and sweat mingled with the cicadas singing in the night.

Benny’s thrusts deepened, drawn out, savoring every slick stroke. He blushed from head to toe, overwhelmed not just by Linda’s body, but by Mia’s kiss on his shoulder, Jon’s fingers stroking his side—this web of love wrapped around him like a blessing.

“Your grandmother’s ass is hypnotic,” Mia murmured, sliding her hand down to give Linda’s perfect curve a slow, worshipful squeeze. “Look at that ... How does anyone survive this woman?”

Linda laughed and whimpered, her body glowing, her skin dewed with pleasure. “I love you,” she gasped. “I love all of you. Every second ... Every inch of him inside me—”

That did it. Benny whimpered, then cried out—his body stiffening as he clutched her hips and spilled deep inside her, cock pulsing, heart racing.

Jon held him close, kissed his temple. “Let it happen. Let her feel all of it.”

Benny buried his face between Linda’s shoulder blades, shuddering, groaning as his cum poured into her, thick and hot, coating her walls. He pulsed again, and again—until he couldn’t breathe.

Linda moaned deeply, her body trembling as she milked him gently.

Mia bent low, eyes locked on where they were still joined. She reached out, her fingers caressing Benny’s softening cock as it slowly slipped free—leaving Linda dripping, creamy white oozing down her thighs, glistening in the candlelight. Mia’s fingertip traced one droplet, then another, painting it over Linda’s swollen folds with quiet awe.

“God, that’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Linda reached back, stroking Benny’s cheek, her voice wrecked with tenderness. “That was perfect, baby.”

Benny kissed her shoulder, dazed. “You are perfect Gramma.”

Mia grinned, leaning into Linda’s side. “We should do this every night. Like brushing our teeth. Only, you know ... wetter.”