I love computers. I’ve loved them for a long, long time. I’ve been designing them for over forty years. My computers make machines tick and make me enough money to do whatever the hell I feel like doing, which usually has something to do with a computer.
Because of my work and my familiarity with the little devils, I get a little deeper into them than the average user. Sometimes it comes in pretty handy.
My granddaughter Sara got sent to live with me because she was simply raising too much hell back home. Although neither her parents nor I had the slightest idea that she would straighten up by living with me, we figured that we would at least get her away from her connections. She wouldn’t know anybody around my place, which was pretty isolated and I would have more time to keep an eye on her than a working couple with three other kids to raise.
Not that I minded having a leggy eighteen-year old goddess hanging around. Sara wasn’t very shy about her body and very quickly learned that I wasn’t, either.
One of the first words out of her mouth after she came was, “Can I check my e-mail, Gramps?”.
“Sure”, I answered. “Just let me have a minute to set up a user account for you and you can whale away.”
Most people think that separate accounts on a PC are private because they don’t know how to access any but their own. I didn’t have that problem. The problem I had grew between my legs and got worse whenever Sara was around. As you can see, I never worried too much about that incest shit. I had no interest in making babies with anybody. I just wanted a tight pussy to lay my pipe in.
Sara was visibly excited when I turned the computer over to her, but waited until I was at the doorway to enter her password, so I wouldn’t be able to see it. Naive child!
In addition to the computer in the game room, there were seven or eight others scattered around my place, depending on how you counted. All of them were connected to a network I had set up, so I simply went into my office and accessed Sara’s session.
I knew she was wild, but had no idea how wild. From the tone of her letters to her old friends, she had done just about everything I had ever dreamed of doing someday. She was 18 and I was 65. There were many things I could teach her, but it was plain she knew a few things, too.
One of the things that came out right away was the fact that she had been ripped out of a very lucrative web-cam setup when she was sent to stay with me. She and a few friends even had their own web site and sold access. For $25 a month, anybody could log on and watch three or four young naked girls in a pile, doing this and that with that and this.
When she logged on to watch her friends at play, I simply had to whip out The Big One for a little whipping. I was ready to invite the whole company to stay with me.
Jessica was small, dark and petite, with the most humongous set of knockers I ever saw on a girl of that size. The thought of wrapping those puppies around my aching hardon was almost enough to get me going right then.
Alicia was a tall rangy blonde with a firm set of apples riding high, high, high on her chest. There would be no tit-fucking this beauty, but she had the most gorgeous face of them all to go with an otherwise knockout body.
Mandy was the cuddly one. “Pleasingly plump” came to mind immediately. There wasn’t a sharp turn anywhere on one of the most cuddly bodies I had ever lusted after.
Somebody else must have been taking care of business while these three played in and around the hot tub, starting with bikinis all round and quickly degenerating into a game of grabass where bikinis got lost in the shuffle.
Sara would type a question or a comment and an answer would be returned immediately--obviously not from one of the three in the hot tub who were having way too much fun. Alicia’s face was buried between Mandy’s thighs and she was being titty-whipped by Jessica’s wildly swinging jugs.
From the kinds of questions Sara asked and the kinds of answers she got, she was well on her way to a comfortable income.
I tried to think of some reason why I should give a shit, other than as a potential customer, but could find none.
She was technically an adult and very quickly learning a trade, even if it was one which the mainstream culture would equate with prostitution. Hell, as far as I was concerned, prostitution was just as noble a profession as politics--maybe more so. After all, web-cam sex was the least likely form of sex to cause pregnancy or disease.
I went back to watching the show while idly pulling on something that was very unlikely to get longer, regardless of how much I pulled on it, but hey! Unlikely isn’t the same as no fucking way, is it? Well, maybe it is, but who cares?
By the time I was pulled out, a kernel of a plan had begun forming. I would sleep on it and see what it looked like in the morning.
At breakfast, Sara looked just as pert, cheerful and innocent as always, but now that I knew her secret, it was hard to look at her without seeing her legs spread as wide as possible while she sat on something even bigger than what her dear old granddaddy could offer her.
I decided to throw in with them. “Sara, why don’t you ask the rest of your FuckMe gang to come for a visit?”
I guess she wasn’t expecting that.
“I said that maybe you should invite the other girls to come for a visit. I have a proposition for you.”
“I’ll bet you do. We get propositioned all the time, and no offense, but they are younger, hotter and better looking than you.” Her grin softened the blow a bit.
“How do you know about them?”
“Are you forgetting what I do for a living?”
“Mom said you did something high tech, but you’re real old. You can’t know very much about computers. Did you just stumble on our site while you were checking your e-mail?”
“Who do you think invented the computers you young people seem to think you understand better?”
“But, but, but”, she blustered.
“Come with me.” I took her back to my office/workshop and pointed to the framed documents covering the walls.
“What are those?”
“Read a couple and see.”
As she scanned patent after patent related to technological innovations that she could hardly read, it began to dawn on her. “You’re a computer genius, Gramps.”
I chuckled. “Yes, but you left out a couple of words. I’m a horny fucking computer genius.”
“Gramps! You said fucking.”
“Oh, little darling. Did you think that your generation invented the word?”
“Oh, I guess not, but aren’t old people not supposed to be interested in sex?” She was completely puzzled.
“The part they didn’t tell you, my dearest, is that old women lose interest and make it damned hard for old men to continue sexual activities. I get my gun about as often now as I did fifty years ago.”
“TMI, TMI!”, she yelled, covering her ears with her hands.
“SHUT THE FYCK UP AND SIT YOUR ASS DOWN IN THAT CHAIR. NOW!”. She didn’t realize that she had just stomped all over one of my hot buttons. She cowered in front of me as if she feared that I would hurt her.
Seeing her fear calmed me down enough to apologize.
“I apologize, Darling, but you just kicked over one of my hot button issues.”
“Wh-wh-what is that, Gramps?”
“This TMI horseshit. Don’t you people have a clue as to how insulting that is?”