Chapter 2: Execute

The day after with clever editing and a generous amount of planning he decided to leave the camera on its stand in her room, with the altered footage. When she woke, sore in places she didn’t remember straining, her memory of the night before completely erased or unavailable to summon upon, she noticed the camera with a grim start and called out for Hassan as loudly as she could, his own gait and bodily movements showing off his soreness, as he began with “Yes gran...”, before he saw the camera and blurted out “why is there a camera set up in your room grandma?”, as possible erotic scenarios seemed to flood his mind through his expression, his cheeks taking on a red tinge of embarrassment, as Fatima’s sleep-filled gaze searched his face for answers finding none only honest shock at the implications of what the camera could bring “have you...”, he began almost stuttering “have you looked and seen if it captured anything?” He said innocently, knowing the same thought was on both their minds. Fatima got up from her bed, dressed in a black semi-transparent robe she didn’t remember donning, as she grabbed a more modest bathrobe from her cupboard and pulled in on over it.

With a trembling hand, she unfolded the flap on its side, a miniature screen displaying an almost full battery and a single file she played with unmuted volume so she might find the root of this. Instead, she found only a solid lump forming in her throat as she watched herself set up the camera, her gaze glassy, her movements sluggish, recognizing her childhood ailment of sleepwalking haunt her anew as an adult, as she motioned for Hassan, in a similar almost zombie-like sleepwalking state, to lay down on the bed, as she proceeded to straddle him in the same revealing lace robe she now wore concealed beneath her bathrobe.

The expression on her face said more than any words could allow as Hassan asked “Grandma are you okay?”, he said with a note of genuine concern, hearing her speak at first nonsensically on the digital camcorder’s speakers before she muted it as she watched herself unwittingly committing a heinous act of haram on her equally vulnerable and unknowing grandson, who she’d raised from an infant.

Fatima sat down on the bed heavily, the footage playing out before her like a silent film of her darkest nightmares coming to life. The camera had captured everything in high definition, every twitch of her body, every moan of pleasure, every slap of skin on skin. The evidence was irrefutable, and the realization of what she had done while sleeping was a crushing weight on her chest.

When Hassan finally managed to steel himself to view the footage fully the first thing he uttered was “Are you okay?”, which almost irrevocably broke her heart just then and there as he sat next to her, cradling her trembling form in his arms.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice thick with tears as she watched the scene unfold in her mind, replaying the events she’d just witnessed. It was as if she was observing a different person, someone who looked like her, moved like her, but couldn’t possibly be her committing those acts. The Fatima she knew was a devout wife and grandmother, not a woman who would indulge in such a vile act with her own flesh and blood.

“But I’ve read about this, people who suffer sleepwalking don’t do crazy things like in the movies most of the time. They just wander around a bit then they either lead themselves or are led back to their beds before anything serious happens except in very extreme circumstances. Have you always sleepwalked? Or maybe it only comes back when grandfather is away?”, he prompted “Did you have it during childhood when your parents went away for long periods?”, he prompted with genuine concern, as he put her before his own wellbeing, another act of kindness that almost threatened to overwhelm her emotionally.

Fatima felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she watched herself perform the unspeakable act with such apparent willingness in her mind. She had always been a heavy sleeper, but this was beyond anything she had ever experienced. “It ... it used to happen when I was young,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it stopped when I got married to your grandfather. I thought it was just something I had grown out of,” she admitted dismally.

Fatima’s heart raced as she grappled with the reality of what she had seen. The room spun around her, the walls closing in as the gravity of the situation settled in her stomach like a lead weight. She couldn’t believe what her own body had done while her mind was lost to the realm of sleep. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of guilt, confusion, and a strange, unwelcome arousal that she couldn’t ignore.

“Did anything specific trigger these “lapses” for lack of a better word, maybe your parents fighting and one of them leaving or a conflict in the region drawing them in, one that might affect your lives?”, he asked as he held her tightly.

Fatima searched her memories, trying to find a pattern, a reason for her actions. “I ... I don’t remember much about that time,” she said, her voice shaking. “But there was always tension between my parents.”

“In that case then”, Hassan began “could grandfather’s leaving although temporary have made you regress to that state? Except now as a grown woman it could have developed from typical sleepwalking, to the lesser known “sexsomnia”, where those who fall into this similar suggestive state commit acts more “explicit”, than they would ever commit normally as themselves, because their trying to satisfy some psychological need their not wholly aware of by whatever means necessary”, he said powering through with obvious difficulty even as he said it, in a clear effort to help both inform and hopefully relieve her somewhat of her guilt and her pain “which I know is allot to take in but honestly grandma that’s not you, it may ... walk and talk like you”, he said with a sincere determination showing on his face and tone “but seeing how it’s affected you, how you are right now, I know you’d never even try to hurt me like that”, he said, kissing the back of her head, still wrapped in the semi transparent fabric of the black lace hijab.

Fatima took in his words, feeling the warmth of his body, the comfort of his embrace, and the truth of his statement. It wasn’t her, not the woman she knew herself to be, but something deep within her she only understood now had awakened, something primal and insatiable had taken advantage of him of them both. The guilt and confusion swirled within her, a tornado of emotions that she didn’t know how to navigate.

“What we need is to make sure we both feel safe enough to sleep in our own beds again, from what I saw, I was also in my own state of ... whatever that was”, he said with his confused tone matched only by his expression. “If we both allowed this ... whatever it is ... to take over in the evenings it must be because we’re not fulfilling some type of need during the day, as bad as that sounds. What’s worse, I can only think of one sure solution to fixing it, if it’s true but you won’t like it”, he said with a deepening look of concern.

Fatima looked at him, her eyes swollen from crying, her cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and fear of what he might suggest. “What is it?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Well this...”, he gestured to the camera and the recording that lay there within “came from a place where a specific need wasn’t met, but what if it was and we could actually justify whatever we had to do, to ultimately get rid of the possibility of this ever happening again?”, he asked honestly, his eyes searching hers for understanding.

Fatima’s mind raced as she tried to understand what he was getting at, the implications of his words slowly sinking in. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“I’m saying I don’t want the very real, possibility of waking up to your cold corpse laid strewn over me after a night of unbridled passion you’re not used to, exerting your heart beyond its means at your age and me trying to explain to grandfather why your dead, as a result of it and how it happened, even though I’ll have no recollection of the event at all”, he said, his tone a mixture of sadness Fatima felt seep into her bones and the cold truth that it might exactly happen as he said it could.

Fatima took a deep breath, the gravity of his words weighing on her heavily. “What are you suggesting, Hassan?” she asked, her voice shaking with fear and anticipation.

“The only thing we seemed to want on the recording was ... intimacy...” he said trying to pick his words carefully “If we ... share this intimacy ... whilst were awake neither of us might crave it or act on the impulse to satisfy it and ... and in all honesty as uncomfortable as it makes me, the idea of you cheating on grandfather with another partner or me doing anything similar with a random stranger to get the same result is not something I think either of us should allow ourselves to be forced into if we can agree to help each other”, he said, his discomfort as obvious, as his intentions, to help each other find a remedy for this, however clumsy, as it shone through with the abysmal idea set before her.

Fatima looked at him with a mix of horror and hope, the possibility of such a twisted solution never crossing her mind. Yet, the fear of losing control again, of doing something so unforgivable, was a specter that loomed large in her thoughts, along with the possibility of her untimely death if her midnight excursions were allowed to go unchecked.

“Honestly if we leave this ... idea ... unattended I remember reading that worst-case scenarios amongst normal sleepwalkers involved gruesome retelling of walking headlong into traffic or even walking off bridges in some very rare cases, almost killing the persons involved. For someone suffering sleepwalking progressing to this...”, he indicated to the camera and the recording within again “it might only get worse even after grandfather returns. Does he know you sleepwalk ... like this? Even I didn’t know I did until I saw it on camera”, he said curiously but with an edge of fear in his voice.

Fatima’s eyes grew wide at the thought, she hadn’t even considered the possibility of their condition spiralling out of control like that, and the thought of losing their lives due to something they had no control over was utterly terrifying. “No, he doesn’t,” she murmured, the implications of his words resonating deep within her. “I’ve never told anyone, I was too embarrassed and thought it would go away.”

“Well for lack of better alternatives Grandma and on such short notice, we might be left with only the one option before it gets too late for even that”, he said indicating at his wristwatch “Whatever we did and however many times we did it, left us so drained we slept in late to recover, its three in the afternoon, not the early morning like I first thought it was, did you notice?”, he asked her gauging her response.

Fatima’s eyes shot wide open with panic, she had indeed noticed the sun outside the windows was in a place she hadn’t seen it in a long time. “What do we do?” she asked him desperately.

“Plainly put grandma sex, as discomforting as even the idea is, physically we both need to take responsibility for this before it spirals any further”, he said seriously, his face a plain, readable map, with his only wish to help her as she recalled with a look of horror on her own the full, monstrous length and girth of his physical endowment coming into focus like a crystallized image in her mind from the digital recorder, shuddering internally at the thought.

Her eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of deceit or malicious intent, but all she saw was a deep-seated concern for both their well-being. “How can we do that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Right here”, he said as he gestured to the bed, the sheets were clean despite their activity, Fatima figured she’d just washed them in her sleep, which didn’t seem all that odd considering the current situation.

With trembling hands, Fatima reached for the ties of her bathrobe, the fabric fell away revealing the still clinging black lace beneath. “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

“Neither do I, but I rather try and fail than wonder if I’m going to wake up tomorrow with one less grandparent”, he said bluntly, taking the lead as he undressed before her, his own trepidation and nervousness clear despite his firmness.

Fatima took a shaky breath, her trembling hands following suit. The lace fell away, revealing her still naked body. The same body that had unknowingly taken pleasure from his last night.

Hassan’s gaze followed the fabric, his eyes lingering on her bare skin. He thanked himself internally for such a cunning ploy, having her record herself setting everything up, even walking and performing in his “sleepwalking” state into her room only to have her bed him with a hunger previously unknown even to her.

Fatima on the other hand, felt disgusted with both herself and the position he’d put her grandson in, as they both climbed into her bed. “What em ... what position should start it, this could take a few tries to be sure grandma, so we can mirror what you see “expressed” on the recording”, he said trying to carefully choose his words through his expertly conveyed embarrassment.

Fatima swallowed hard, her cheeks burning with a mix of shame and fear. “Just ... just do what you did before,” she managed to say, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Erm ... then you’d need to get on top of me if I remember well”, he said hesitantly, as he lay down before adding “I don’t think we need to follow the recording faithfully, just the “spirit”, of it for lack of a better word. I just want to let you know Grandma that I love you and the fact that you’re willing to go so far to protect us from the possibility that this could always get worse”, he said “And even though I was a virgin on the recording this’ll be the actual first time I’ll be doing it knowingly”, he said in a moment of feigned introspection as Fatima reeled mentally in shock at the realization that she’d also deflowered her own grandson, even though it was under dubious circumstances.

“And finally, from what I saw on the camera I didn’t erm “demonstrate” a lot of self-control, I looked and acted particularly erm “ravenous”, which I hope I’m not, but I don’t actually know either since I have no real experience, so it might happen again whether I’m aware of it or not, so you’re going to have to be my compass here, in case it gets too out of control. From what I saw though, neither of us could help ourselves”, he said with a ringing doubt in his words surrounding his resolve as Fatima empathized, feeling her heart swell with a mix of love and fear for the innocent young man, who was willing to go to such lengths to protect them both from any more unknown night time trysts.

“Just know that I love you, grandma, whatever happens”, he said honestly, as she positioned her knees on either side of his hips, “I wouldn’t be comfortable with forcing my way into you grandma, you could guide me in yourself instead unless you don’t think it matters”, he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Fatima looked at him, her heart aching with a mix of love and disgust at the situation. She reached down, her hand trembling as she took hold of his erection, guiding it to her entrance. She felt a mix of revulsion and arousal as she lowered herself onto him, and the same instrument that had brought her so much pleasure the night before and now damning guilt beyond all else.

The head by itself was huge, let alone the veiny shaft that followed beyond it from her point of view. The tip of his organ reached far enough to dip into her belly button starting from her parting, delicate folds where he rested its base, as she took a deep breath, handing him with care, as she felt his head at the entrance to her core, the heat of his manhood against her clit causing her to shiver involuntarily.

With a tremble she pushed herself down on him, feeling his thickness stretch her wide open, her eyes watering with the mix of pain and the strange, unwelcome pleasure it brought with it, she felt herself impaled fully on him. Gazing down she was in reality only just roughly past the quarter mark point enveloping the bulbous head.

She took a shaky breath and pushed down further, feeling the weight of his cock fill her completely, the stretch and burn was exacerbated by the lack of any kind of lubrication, as she felt herself stretch and accommodate, her eyes never leaving his.

Now barely past the halfway point, she felt herself give. Within the tight constraints of her body, his size was unyielding and she had to admit, that even though she was in pain, her body was responding to his, as she felt strange warmth spread through her abdomen, her mind fogging over with a need she didn’t quite understand.

She knew from this point on she’d need to work to take him whole and begin adjusting to his size, but the pain was too much as it was, her body already quivering with effort to resist it. “It’s okay Grandma, we can take this slow”, he said, his voice strained with his arousal and the fear of hurting her.

He reached up, his hands resting on her waist, his thumbs brushing the soft flesh of her hips as he gently encouraged her to move. Fatima took a deep breath and began to rock back and forth, her eyes squeezed shut as she took his length inch by inch, feeling her body stretch and mold around him.

He couldn’t believe this was working, her every waking nerve reacting to his, as she looked down at him with a look of gratefulness and love, a stark contrast to the horror she had held just moments before. “We can go slow, I’m not going anywhere, Grandma”, he reassured her, placing a hand on her cheek to wipe away a stray tear that had escaped the corner of her eye.

“As odd as it sounds maybe if we started kissing too like we did in the video, it might speed things up, we can never know until we try”, he suggested, his voice a comforting murmur against her racing thoughts, as her blood rushed through her eardrums noticeably.

Fatima leaned down, her trembling hand reaching for his face, cupping his cheek as she brought their lips together. The kiss was tentative at first, but as she felt his tongue brush against hers, the same passionate hunger from the recording seemed to come alive in her again.

Her hips began to move more urgently, her body sliding up and down his shaft, each movement sending waves of pleasure and pain through her. The feel of his hands on her body, guiding her, supporting her, was intoxicating, and she found herself losing control of her actions, even as she felt betrayed by them all at once.

The kiss grew deeper, more desperate as if they were both trying to find something in each other that would justify the sin they were committing. His fingers tangled in her hair through the lace hijab, pulling her closer, as she moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by their kiss.

He began pumping in earnest, her body adjusting to his size as she rode him. One hand moved from her waist to her breasts, groping them with one hand, as his other found one of her generously rounded and full asscheeks he squeezed gently, sinking into it eagerly with a moan.

Her surprise at his forwardness was unmistakeable, as she leaned back into a sitting position over him, as a knee-jerk reaction before he said “I’m here to help every part of you grandma, no matter how forward I need to be for both our sakes in this matter and I need you to let me or if you can’t I need you to bear with me, because I’ve never actually done this with anyone but you”, he said honestly. The cruel irony was not lost on her, as she felt a strange mix of comfort and revulsion at his words, the guilt swirling like a maelstrom in her mind “I can’t let myself enjoy it, but you have my permission to ... make sure we never have to do this again by any means”, she said with a hint of sadness in her voice coupled with a look of resignment.

It was all he needed to hear, as he thanked her and leaned her back into him, their bodies flush against each other, as he kissed her deeply. Every part of her resisted the act of their lovemaking which he loved and fed off, without allowing it to draw suspicion to himself, even as she granted him the unexpected carte blanche to take her, as internally he knew his plan had just bore the greatest fruit he could have hoped for, his deep-seated longing to take her for years now, always tempered by his fear of getting caught.

Despite herself and her body’s reactions Fatima hated it all but hoped in some twisted way that maybe her grandson through sheer power of will and horsepower behind his alarmingly reactive monstrous cock could end this, if not now, then at least before her husband could return from his trip in two weeks, as she felt him push up into her with increasing tempo, as he explored her body, his hands caressing her breasts, her thighs, her neck.

“Grandma I might say things ... that might help even though they seem absurd or even outright wrong, to throw everything at this, almost like a roleplay of sorts, is that okay? The words I choose might be ... graphic or even hopelessly romantic if it comes to that”, he said tenderly even as he thrust into her anew.

Fatima nodded, not trusting her voice to speak, her body already starting to respond to his touch. The fear of her condition of “their” condition, she corrected herself and the horror of what had happened, mixed with the dread of losing control again, as it all seemed to meld into one overwhelming need to forcefully pull through with this living, damning nightmare, to seek release from it, at its end.

She felt incredible, Hassan thought, better than he could have ever expected awake, over her sleepwalking state, as he felt every part of her unwillingly try and satisfy a need he had incepted into her conscious mind, with a level of subtlety that had her working with his secret urges beautifully, as both hands took a handful of each of her asscheeks, letting them sink in, into the plentiful amount of flesh there, as his mouth formed a seal around one of her breasts, his tongue swirling around a brown, tanned nipple, his teeth grazing the tip, causing Fatima to gasp, the pleasure intense and surprising, as her body rocked back and forth over him, sweat lubricating their bodies, as she felt his cock hit deep within her, each stroke bringing a mix of pain and pleasure she never knew could coexist.

She watched him become slowly ravenous and insatiable, his eyes darkening as he took in her body, her curves, her stretch marks from giving birth, her aging skin, and she felt a strange thrill run through her. She had always been self-conscious about her looks to a certain degree, knowing she boasted the right kind of curves but that her body weight would always let her down, Hassan though seemed to thrive on it, on her, as he said “I’m getting closer grandma, is it okay if I release inside you?”, he asked, his voice thick with passion.

Fatima nodded, she knew she had to let him, for fear of what would happen if she didn’t, she felt his hands tighten on her hips, as he pushed her down onto him, burying his cock finally to the hilt, her eyes rolled back into her head at the feeling, she was so close herself, but she didn’t care anymore, she just wanted it to end, to never have to feel like this again.

With a final deep thrust, he erupted within her, his warmth filling her up as she felt her orgasm tear through her body, her body convulsing as she climaxed around him, her walls gripping him tightly, as he emptied himself inside her. The feeling was indescribable, a mix of pain and pleasure that seemed to resonate deep within her very soul.

He kissed her throughout as they both came down from their climax, their bodies still joined, sweat glistening in the dimly lit room. Fatima felt a mix of relief and despair wash over her. “Thank you, Hassan,” she murmured, her voice raw with emotion.

“Don’t worry Grandma, this is only the first step”, he said still reeling from the exertion as he began to catch his breath.

Fatima felt his warmth inside of her, the reality of the situation coming crashing down. She had just had sex with her grandson, and it was all to prevent something that might never happen again, something she had no control over. But she knew she had to trust him, she had to believe that he had their best interests at heart, even if it meant letting him take her body in such a way.

“I don’t mean to worry you”, he said earnestly with a hint of concern. “But what we just did would be like a single ant pushing a boulder ... uphill, with more acts like this we add more chances to succeed to our cause and according to how we “acted” our subconscious urges out on the recording we might be awhile”, he said, his voice trailing off as he watched the emotional rollercoaster play out on his grandmothers face.

“If it had been a single act of intimacy, which had been recorded, I would have gladly written it off as harmful in of itself, but it wasn’t and so this is going to take work. Though I am willing to make the next part less physical with your help so that we might progress, without making the false impression upon you that wild rutting is the only thing that could help us Grandma, I intend to help you in every way I can for both our sakes”, he said honestly.

Fatima looked at him with a mix of hope and doubt, his words resonating with her thoughts. “How do we do that?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“Lay down and try to keep your legs open enough for me, without instinctively snapping them shut around my head out of some protective, survival instinct, whilst I do this next part as well as I can, despite my lack of obvious experience. It’ll be a learning experience for us both I imagine”, he said, as she nodded weakly, feeling the warm trickle of his release leak out of her onto the bed, as she laid down and spread her legs, bracing herself for what was to come.

Lowering himself on his hands and knees, he ducked his head between her legs saying “Feel free to wrap your legs around me if you can’t help it as a reaction, just remember I’m trying to help us both okay?” he said as he looked earnestly into her eyes.

Fatima nodded as she felt his breath hot against her sex; she felt a shiver of both anticipation and fear. This was so wrong, she thought, but she had to trust him, she had to believe that he was trying to help assuage both their fears of this developing any further.

He lay into her softly, his tongue caressing her softly curled mound of salt and pepper-colored pubic hair, as his tongue moved in patterns through its fibrous hairs. She felt his hot breath on her swollen clit and couldn’t help but arch her back, pushing herself against his mouth, she had to bite her tongue to hold in a moan, as she felt his nose nudging her labia open before the hot wetness of his tongue swiped through her, licking up her juices. She felt warmth spread throughout her body she tried desperately to ignore, as her mind rebelled at the thought of what was happening.

He slid inside her fully with his tongue, able to do with its sinewy, agile length with delicate care what his unyielding cock had tried to force through with pure horsepower, as her body quivered in unwelcome excitement. How long had it been since Abdal had treated her so delicately or driven her so desperately into the arms of pleasure for pleasure’s sake, she asked herself. Had it been a week, maybe a bit more, how long had it been since they truly made love where the world outside had felt like it had been shut off and they were the only two human beings left on the planet that mattered to themselves. She found she didn’t have the ready answers she’d expected from herself.

Yes, she loved her husband and they both still expressed their love regularly, when time and their daily lives allowed for it. Age did not diminish how much you loved or wanted to be loved by another human being, especially one you were devoted to, only concentrated it as your body made sure you paid attention to its limitations as you grew older.

The only difference was in how Hassan was taking her, in that her husband would never have expressed his growing frenzy, even now as he fed off her with fervor to her body’s delight and her mind’s utter and growing disdain.

She felt she couldn’t remember any recent lovemaking with her devoted husband that reflected this quality of almost feverish need and she found herself questioning it. Not to label her husband a potential adulterer outright, as her paranoia noticeably began to seep in, but if this young, unfettered man before her could express such love and devoted concern for her, in this albeit twisted situation, then why did she have this feeling that her husband’s affections or tenuous lack off in comparison, was now suspect, and very possibly the growing, likely reason behind her sudden and intense sleepwalking episodes?

She didn’t have an answer, and she didn’t want one. Fatima just wanted to focus on the here and now, on the sensations that were overwhelming her despite her mental protests. As Hassan’s tongue delved deeper, exploring her with an enthusiasm that was both terrifying and arousing, feeling her body betraying her once again. Her legs wrapped around his neck of their own accord, pulling him closer, urging him to give her more of the exquisite torment he was inflicting.