Inspired by a local newspaper item about a gay (in the old original term) old lady still pursuing her previous occupation having an accident during a family party.

“Tony, be a darling and hold these for me,” Nancy asked her grandson. The eighteen year old grabbed the bunch of shopping bags from her and felt even more embarrassed to be stood in the ladies clothing department of Herrods flag ship store. Around him were stylish mature and yummy mummies selecting and buying the exclusive dresses, skirts, blouses, scarves, tops and every other garment, accessory range the new branch had recently reopened. He did notice that none of his preferred rough edge, street wise, slag girls were present, but if he’d looked at the prices it would have been clear.

He knew it would be not the place to roam with his hidden camera and wished it was. There was some stunners in the quiet, refined store.

The tall, elegant, formidable, spare framed old lady, clad in a chic, dark, two-piece, with a string of pearls around her neck disappeared through the sprung, self latching door into an outer lobby section of a dressing cubicle and then closed the curtains over the inner area, where the actual changing took place. It was a roomy carpeted space, with shelves, multi hooks, floor to ceiling mirror and an upholstered bench seat. She was impressed with the fittings, which were much improved from the early days of department stores, where a flimsy, ill fitted curtain had been the only barrier between a semi-naked female and a shop full of people. Nancy wasn’t worried anyway due to her previous profession.

Her youthful companion wistfully gazed around and could see the shop signs in the far distance leading the way to the technology, games and sports equipment departments where he had been indulged by Nancy’s generosity. Two of the bags he held were stuffed with his new gear, but by far the bigger bags held Nancy’s purchases. He had enjoyed this shopping expedition so far, choosing stuff, which his widowed, seventy three year old granny gladly funded, partly because of his birthday the previous week and also because he was her favourite, being the only male offspring of her daughter Helen. There were several other grand children, but the Hook family weren’t particularly close in relations and distance. Her two other daughters didn’t have much to do with her because of her previous profession. Helen had taken after her, more or lass, but down a different route.

“Excuse me sir, do you mind moving on?” came a deep, well spoken, male voice over the top of a display unit showing expensive fashion jewellery. A black man in smart navy blue security uniform walked round the unit and confronted Tony. “This is the changing area...” “I can see that perfectly clearly,” answered the lad interrupting him. “My grandm...” “Yes but some of the ladies don’t like men loiter ... were you going to say grandma. Can you explain?” the security official responded in a pleasant manner, finally noticing several bags round his feet and the two in his hands. “My grandma is in there trying some clothes on and I’m waiting, what the fu ... heck do you think I’m doing?” answered the already irritated youth. “Ah I see. My apologies. Maybe just move a little over there if you don’t mind then.”

Tony was ushered four feet away, the man carrying the floor parcels for him, apologising again and moving on. Young Hook happily accepted that the man was only doing his job, being well brought up, sensible although insular, becoming an IT expert, a hobby botanist, bird watcher, a science fiction aficionado and another hobby. Bill, his dad was a master butcher with entrepreneur ideas and had built up the hundred year old business into a meat empire, with farms, serving many superstores, restaurants and Helen – his mum an orthopaedic consultant surgeon. She was also a hobby costume designer specialising in exotic dancing gear for female dancing troupes, in flamenco, ballroom, burlesque and strippers. Nancy had been a seamstress, a prolific needleworker in her early days, nurturing the same interest in Helen and Nancy’s other daughter Deborah. Widowed from Percy her husband, a local magistrate some years back. She had been left comfortably off. The other close relative was Tony’s fourteen year old, pain in the arse, sister Barbara who was what was known as a sandwich short of a picnic and struggled all her school life, more like life in general and seemed to have no skills, even in housekeeping and cooking, no interests apart from her Tablet and Smart Phone, much to Helen’s disappointment. She attended a special school.

“Tony!” Nancy’s voice rang out, rather more loudly than the first time, which he hadn’t heard. He heard it this time as her handsome, attractively boned face beneath a slightly tousled greying, fair head of hair, anxiously peered outside the partly opened cubicle door, then spotting his new position, beckoned to him. He left the bags in a pile and strode to her, noticing her bare shoulders and that she’d removed her highly coloured designer spectacles. “You’ve moved darling, I called earlier.” “The security man must have thought I was peeping or something, silly bugger...” “Tony – don’t, he’s only doing his job,” she admonished him. “I need your help please, but you’ll have to come in.” “Gran – I can’t. It’s ladies, what if he sees?” “Oh come in, stop messing about, he’s gone anyway and the sales desk is round that corner, I need you,” Nancy stated, grasping his bare arm. Tony had a chance to glance around not seeing any evidence of concern until Nancy closed the door behind him. “But I’ve left all our shopping along there Gran. I mean...” He interrupted his concern, seeing Nancy’s bare back criss crossed with two deep red slender straps that was stretched over her spare wiry flesh. He gulped and tensed his cock when she turned to face him. “They’ll be fine, this will only take a second and it’s not the sort of place the hoi polloi will steal stuff,” she advised him. “Now unclip this for me, it’s stuck and only needs a bit of muscle which you got plenty of. Without my specs I’m half blind and if had them on they’d slip down and still I wouldn’t be able to see,” she chuckled, stroking his biceps. Tony wondered of the troublesome garment would slip down, but thought again – it was his gran, and an old lady.

Her other hand held the Triumph brassiere front clip between her medium sized tits. Telling him how the clip should work and him trying to, made the back of his hands nudge the lower section of the garment which housed her nicely proportioned breasts. With that and the sight of stout nipple bulges through the soft, un-wired material, made his cock tense and he felt awkward. That shouldn’t happen with his grandma, this dear old lady. The clip sprung free and Nancy swiftly grabbed the cups and held them to prevent him being embarrassed with exposed tit flesh. Her bosoms squashed upwards and Tony tensed again. He turned to leave and spotted the brassiere holder from the hanger and saw the 38B label. He saw it and thought he’d love to see her knockers and the dressing of them – but that’s silly, she was his gran and very old.

In the car park. “What’s Barbara doing today?” Nancy asked as they started loading her BMW 3 series. “Mummy is dropping her off at her friend Janet’s house as far as I know,” he replied, climbing into the beige leather interior. “Is she the friend Barbara met at her special needs classes? She’s doing well. It will work out fine for her,” comforted Nancy, booting up the 3 litre turbo diesel engine. “Yes it is, both are very strange, like weird things seem to interest them and that Janet is not exactly Mummies favourite. She’s so uncouth Mummy says ... what is it she says? ... wrong side of the tracks or something,” Tony chuckled, gazing at a couple of cheaply dressed young women with baby buggies and brightly coloured hair, thinking - ‘love those torn black leggings and the fat one’s tight mock leather mini skirt.’ He saw but ignored Nancy’s shapely, toned legs clad in sheer nylon which were visible from about six inches below the hem of her dar, ribbed skirt. It was his gran, think about how old she is - stupid.

Two weeks later, Tony was picked up by Nancy for the last shopping trip before college restarted after the summer break. He wore his usual summer gear of tee-shirt, shorts and trainers. Helen had told her mother he needed some sports gear and wanted to spend his own money, instead of Grandma buying every thing. Mrs Hook’s car was being serviced and having some extra work done and it was difficult for the lad to use the buses having to change twice to reach his destination. Bill was away at a seminar at Inverness and had parked his Jaguar at Heathrow. Nancy stepped in to help – as always. Barbara would do her pre-school shopping with Helen as she was difficult, didn’t know the right shops, the appropriate clothing, the pricing and bus schedules.

“Come back for a cup of tea Tony.” suggested Nancy as they completed shopping and got into her Merc. “There’s something I want you to help me with OK?” He agreed, he was at a loose end and always enjoyed doing jobs for the old matriarch of the family. Her loved her ultra modern detached house in a private road, all sharp angles, spacious open plan, white rendered, with extensive gardens, cared for by an American butch woman, Wel Cort. The place surprised most of her friends and family. Being the family IT expert, Tony had advised and set up her studio equipment and when checking and updating as he did for her, there was no sign of the kind of stuff he had found on his dad’s.

They arrived at her place. Nancy ushered him through the kitchen, seated him on a couch and busied herself, to arrive minutes later, joining him in the leisure area with a tray.

“There you are dear, just as you like it, builders tea, three sugars - in a mug and some chocolate digestive biscuits, I’m popping up to get out of these things, be back in a shake,” she chuckled, already undoing the buttons of her nutty brown, cashmere shirt and leaving him in the leisure suite. “If you fancy a swim, you know where everything is. I won’t be long and this will revive me,” Nancy snickered brandishing a glass of white wine she’d grabbed off the tray.

Tony watched some sport on the TV but wasn’t interested in tennis live from Indian Wells where ever that was. An advert for some life style popped up showing a mock birdwatching group and he tried to guess where it had been located, knowing many of the best spots for one of his hobbies. He heard the light click clack of high heels coming down hard stairs and in walked Nancy from the hall, with a delicate, flimsy, Chinese robe enveloping her - shoulders to toes. He was shocked as she had never worn things like that other times. “Darling, can you load the music centre with this DVD and CD please?” she asked, handing him the devices. He did so as she disappeared again into the kitchen. “You know the remotes are in the cabinet...” she trilled from afar. “Switch the DVD on please.”

“OK let’s watch this first,” said Nancy coming in and flouncing busily next to him on the couch, still in her robe. He loved her perfume and the way the robe slid to expose a bit of her thigh and her bony knee, which she noticed and concealed again. “This is going to be my surprise cabaret at your Dad’s birthday party.” she chuckled, pointing at the TV. Tony didn’t know there was going to be one.

“Can you tell who that is?” Nancy snickered. They were watching an old fashioned, from the 60s, dance troupe in surprisingly small costumes. “Second from the right?” Tony studied at and shook his head. “It’s me silly,” she giggled. “That’s what I used to do before I met Percy, I danced,” she told him mentioning her deceased husband. The lad raised his eyebrows and swallowed. She said “Fast forward...” He did until he was told to start real time again. Now it was a single woman dancing on a stage, in much less of a costume and in a provocative way. “This a bit more naughty but OK I think, I mean all his friends and what family your mum tells me are invited, won’t be upset, they are all old enough to have seen all this,” Nancy said airily gesturing at the screen. “Anyway now for the best bit, the CD now please, I want to pop out to the loo. Don’t start it till I get back.” She rose, placing a hand on Tony’s bare knee for support and click clacked away. He did notice the way her robe had found a niche in her arse crack and was caught there, showing Nancy’s tight buttocks wobbling. He also notice the lack of visible panty line, but that’s his elderly grandma

She called for him to start the CD. The music wasn’t her usual Classic FM or other BBC3 classic music. It was an upbeat, old style concert band, which she called out was Ted Heath. Nancy appeared posing showgirl style, against the door jamb, with the robe hung loose. Under it, she was naked apart from two small discs covering her nipples and a maroon coloured. triangular patch of sequinned velvet over her pussy, held together with a cord. The big smile on her face, transformed into a pin-up pout as she moved in front of him, swaying in time to the beat. “Gran ... what ... I mean you’re... !” Tony stuttered. “Sit back and watch sweetie, this is what I want you for, that job,” she told him, wafting closely past, casting off the robe and permeating the atmosphere with a heady scent,. “When the party is on, I’ll give you signals to operate these,” she gestured at the music centre, while shimmying her butt sexily, about two feet in front of him.

Nancy went through a strippers routing without removing two clothing items, if you could call nipple pasties – clothing. Tony enjoyed watching his ancient grandma for her athleticism, stamina and trim body when he thought back to his mum’s fattening frame. He also enjoyed her sexy look, but it was his old granny.

The sixteen year old lad gulped when she swivelled away and half bent forward, initially touching her toes then half bent, looking back at him with a cheeky expression as he was confronted by a superb view of her buttocks and the string that curved round her hips, down her crack and then disappeared. He tensed his cock. Nancy’s hand slipped between her legs and sensuously stroked up and down her inner thighs, then she stopped abruptly, thinking it would be too much titillation for him and not necessary, she wasn’t trying to seduce him. Tony had found files with pictures and videos similar to Nancy’s pose, but totally naked, when updating Bill’s computer after he’d heard his dad saying it was running slow. There were many and they showed close up details of female genitalia, but Tony was both in a hurry to finish the update before rushing off to Kew Gardens for a seminar on the origin of Hellebores. He realised Bill hadn’t activated the password protection.

He did find them at a later time and transferred them to his own computer.

“Gran ... er Gran ... I mean – you know I can see your er ... you know,” he stammered, noticing the sides of her pussy wrapping outside the edge of her G string. “Sort of ... you know ... hairy.” Nancy immediately stood up and turned to face him, peering down at her crotch - very embarrassed. She knew this had been a risk but he was a grown boy, She hadn’t thought it through that her genitalia would be that exposed, especially to Tony. She guessed that Bill and his pals wouldn’t mind, but this was different – very different. She knew Bill fancied her. “Gosh I am so sorry Tony, I was so intent on rehearsing properly, with the music I mean, it was a release for me to be able to perform, not knowing I could still do it after my operation, it’s great that I can. Sorry darling,” she again apologised, standing tall, covering her crotch with one hand then spotting one of her nipple pasties was peeling off. She patted it back firm making her droopy tit wobble. She also spotted that her sixteen year old grandson had an erection, that must have painful trapped down the leg of his Adidas shorts.

Then crash, the proud old woman tripped over her robe, banged her head on the couch corner and clattered painfully on her backside onto the stark polished concrete floor, hurting her arm. Tony leapt to her side, kneeling, cradling her head on his thigh. His grandma felt woozy and blurred, thinking where am I, not quite with it and this kind young man has come to help me. He felt her pulse finding it strong and breathed a sigh of relief. Her G-string had slipped, exposing her raddled old cunt with its sparse collection of greying pubic hair and the wrinkles of a once taut, young, snatch gone to seed. Tony cradled her head and stroked her face, captivated by his first sight of a real, living, he hoped she was, living twat. He shouldn’t look, it’s your Gran. The velvet cord had lodged under the myriad of slack, fleshy wrinkles at one side of her groin. He tried to sort out her robe which was trapped beneath her, then had to dislodge a nipple pastie stuck to the back of his hand.

Ashamed, yet aroused with the old gal seemingly out of it and virtually naked in his arms, Tony daringly wondered what he could do without arousing her and being found out, but no this is your grandmother. A glass of water seemed to be the done thing he remembered from somewhere, but his cock was dangerously close to Nancy’s face and was fully erect and poking out of his shorts. She won’t know, he thought and fingered her nipples which were hard. Her skin around them was so soft, warm and smooth, his finger rolled round her pale areolae. Tony felt a tremble through her and checked her face but yes – she was still out cold.

Should he venture a feel of her pussy? It was there naked, within easy reach and her legs were apart, one of them entangled in the troublesome gown. It’s your grandma, he pondered, she’s very old, spicy yes, wealthy and ever so generous with her money and time, but that is her bare fanny, just there, in it’s spare greying copse of long hair and he’d never seen one before. On videos of course, let’s see? He cupped her vagina, finding the skin hot and when he attempted to lightly stroke it there was no firm pouting pudenda, but very slack flesh, which easily parted and revealed a slender damp labia. Tony shuddered with excitement and fear. What if she came too?