Main Character:

Peyton, 14, Female
- glasses, beige skin, 5’7, 130lbs, bleach-blonde hair past shoulders

I’ve lived my entire adult life with a secret. No, not one of those secrets that, if found out, would bring the police crashing through my door. A secret of the mind, a preference that I could tell no one about. Almost no one. At sixty-five, I’d had this secret buried deep inside me since I was fourteen or fifteen, but only when I hit my twenties did it really become something worthy of hiding.

I have an attraction for girls in the mid-stages of puberty. Hebephilia and ephebophila were the two terms which described what I felt for the supple, blossoming teens who frequently caught my eye. As a teen myself, there was no issue. I enjoyed relationships with girls as young as fourteen and those through eighteen, but only after I had aged out of those high school years did I notice my lack of attraction for anyone beyond that age.

I met my first wife when I was twenty-three and she was fifteen. We dated in secret for almost three years before we married when she was eighteen. It got difficult quickly when her goals and mine didn’t align and we divorced after only twenty months.

My second wife was fourteen when I met her, me then twenty-seven, but we did nothing but talk until she was sixteen, which was the legal age of consent in my state. Like my first wife, we married after she turned eighteen.

Despite my attractions which primarily focused on girls under twenty, and more strongly, those in the high-school age, the marriage lasted until my wife died of breast cancer at thirty-two. She was the only one who shared my secret, the only one I ever told about my attraction to girls too young for me. With her help and a lot of wonderful fantasizing during our sexual moments, I never was tempted to act on those urges again. At least not until my granddaughter visited me one weekend not long after my sixty-fifth birthday.

My second wife and I had two kids, a son who married his high school sweetheart after they graduated from college, and a daughter who was gay and lived with several different partners before settling on the one she’d spent most of her adult life with. My son and his wife had three kids, all girls. The youngest is Peyton, and it was Peyton who gave me the chance, despite my age and our blood relationship, to enjoy my deeply held secret fantasy one more time.

As a widower, I had spent several years doing nothing more than getting by. I worked until I was sixty-three and then retired with modest savings and no hobbies worth pursuing. I spent the next two years masturbating. That’s not much of an exaggeration. I had nothing but time, and my cock, on my hands, and, honestly, it was a very enjoyable time well spent. I watched porn that featured older men much like me having sex with barely legal eighteen or nineteen-year olds. I never dared look for anything illegal, and I’m glad I wasn’t so tempted as to pursue such things.

I read a lot of stories, though, erotic tales of older men and young girls, many of them incestuous in nature. Those really turned me on a lot. I’d never much had a serious interest in incest, never more than a passing thought about my own daughter or any of my granddaughters, but stories about such encounters really got me going. I jacked off hundreds of times over those two years, and with increasing frequency, those fantasy themes began to draw me in, and my granddaughters sometimes featured prominently as I ejaculated.

One of those stories was called Illegal, Illicit, and Intoxicating by an author named Renpet. The story featured a grandfather and granddaughter developing an incestuous relationship. I often thought about Peyton as I read Intoxicating, imagining it was me getting to do those things with my youngest family member.

I purchased one of those full-size pleasure dolls which was on the short, petite size. I bought a variety of lingerie and wigs and accessories so that I could dress her up to match whatever fantasy I’d had in my head that night. Let me tell you, that doll, whose name changed with my fantasies, was more enjoyable than one might think. Sure, it made no sounds, held no realistic smells, wasn’t warm to the touch, but her tits were soft and pliable and small, her vaginal opening was easily warmed and felt tight and silky, her small anus even tighter. I came often in that doll and I can tell you it was a fantastic, safe way to play out my hebephilic scenarios. Sometimes, I dressed the doll with a blonde wig and called her ‘Peyton.’

My son and his wife split up when Peyton was thirteen, and my youngest granddaughter stayed with him. Her older sisters were off to college and generally not around, so Peyton got to enjoy being a sort of only daughter in my son’s house for a while. She thrived on it, so I heard, and was developing into a very outgoing and confident young woman.

But I rarely saw my son or my granddaughters. They lived in Germany where my son was stationed with the US Army, and I didn’t travel too well, so it was only every two or three years that I got to see them.

Peyton was fourteen when my son planned to come visit me for a couple of nights before being reassigned to a base in Texas. At the last minute, my son’s orders were delayed such that he would not be able to stay with me during his trip back to the states, but he sent Peyton on ahead to visit me for two nights before flying out again to join her father at their new home.

I hadn’t seen Peyton since she was ten, and boy, let me tell you what a difference those years made. At ten, my granddaughter was pretty enough, but flat as a board, both top and bottom, still a young girl, nothing of direct interest to me except as substitution in my fantasizes reading stories like Intoxicating. But she was pretty and it was obvious even then the girl would be quite the looker once puberty started.

I waited outside the security gates for her to arrive from her long flight and almost didn’t recognize her. Peyton had grown taller by many inches, probably five-seven. Her straight, silky, bleach-blonde hair was radiant, kept loose over her shoulders, bangs cut and slightly curled over her forehead. Her skin had a slight tan, a light golden color on her forearms and face. She wore rounded glasses which rested on her thin nose, and it was really the freckles which dotted her cheeks which made it clear this was my granddaughter. Those were distinctive and, against her fair complexion, added a beautiful splash of color on her skin.

She wore a loose t-shirt, but even with that covering her top, I could see her breasts pushing out the fabric. The bra underneath did little to stop her tits from bouncing and swaying with each step. The shirt hung down just below her waist, covering only the very top of the blue yoga pants she wore. The tight covering left little to the imagination, a hint of my granddaughter’s cleft and an obvious thigh gap were very arousing, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only dirty old man who noticed. I was, however, the only one related to Peyton, and I was all too aware of my dirty thoughts as Peyton spotted me and waved.

She had a backpack slung over her shoulder which she shifted as she approached. “Grandpa Jim!”

“Hello, Peyton! It is so wonderful to see you at last!”

We hugged and I was very aware of how my granddaughter’s blossoming breasts squished against me. The hug lasted less time than I would have liked, but longer than many I’d shared with the girl earlier in her life. Peyton was smiling as she stepped back, and I could see the pale-red lipstick, eyeliner, and other cosmetics which had doctored her appearance. It made her look older than fourteen, but I could still see the youthful softness around her eyes and lips. I rarely popped a boner outside my house, but by the time Peyton’s arms had returned to her sides, I was at full attention. My god, was my granddaughter beautiful!

I led her to my car in the short-term parking and asked her questions about her new home in Texas. Peyton wasn’t exactly thrilled to be leaving her home and friends in Germany, but she admitted that it might be nice to try something new for a change. Texas wasn’t at the top of her list for places to live, but she was willing to give it a chance.

In the car on the way back to my home, I couldn’t help noticing just how tight Peyton’s blue pants were on her thighs. She held shapely curves, tantalizing just below the fabric, and once or twice, when my granddaughter shifted and her legs spread, I could just make out the indentation where her cleft would have been. My boner returned each time I caught such a wonderful sight.

I kept my perverted thoughts to myself, long used to keeping my secret. I wasn’t going to do more than steal a look or two at my granddaughter while she stayed with me. When I had opportunities, I’d jack my dick thinking about her, that I was sure, but I was never going to go beyond mere voyeurism.

I stopped at a fast food restaurant on our way home and Peyton needed to pee. While I ordered, she went to the bathroom, and when she returned, I couldn’t help wondering how well she’d wiped, whether her panties now smelled of her urine. Perhaps that scent was already there from her long flight. I had to stand at an odd angle to keep my hardon from being obvious as I waited for our food.

Peyton walked over to fill her drink and I caught sight of her ass for the first time. Goddamn, my granddaughter had filled out! In the blue yoga pants, Peyton’s backside was curved, rounded, jiggling just a bit with each step. The tights formed an obvious indentation between her buttocks, causing them to appear slightly parted and open. I could only imagine Peyton’s tight young holes which were just barely hidden from sight. I pictured them in my mind. Pink, soft folds of her pussy between her thighs, blonde pubic hairs, a tight, wrinkled pink or reddish anus tucked just above. I wondered if she smelled sweaty or aroused. My mouth watered to imagine what her flesh might taste like.

But, again, I was fantasizing a thing I would never experience, and that was okay with me. I’d lived in my head for many years, and having my granddaughter fueling my orgasm that night would simply be an amazing bonus thrill.

I drove us home with our meals and set up Peyton in my small guest room. She wanted to shower, so I sat out on the patio reading a novel. It was already late evening and the excitement of the day had me wanting to get to bed soon and relieve myself thinking of my granddaughter.

Peyton came outside and said, “Gonna eat with me?”

I turned and nodded. My granddaughter wore top-and-bottom cotton pajamas which were rather thin. White, with small, random stars and moons and galaxies, the fabric was semi-transparent. Peyton’s tiny pink nipples and the shadows below her breasts were easily seen. I dared not look lower. “Y-yeah, on my way,” I replied trying to swallow my arousal.

We ate at in the living room where I put on a baseball game, the Padres at home against the Diamondbacks. Peyton piped up, “Oh, nice. I love Arizona!”

“Didn’t know you had become a fan,” I replied.

“We got feeds on the base of a lot of sports, and a couple of my friends were from Arizona, so I kinda adopted the Diamondbacks.”

“So sorry you’re going to miss them,” I told her,”but I bet you make new friends quickly.”

Peyton shrugged. She hunched over, eating her burger over the footstool, her legs spread. Each time she leaned back to chew or talk, her nipples were light-red circles under the fabric of her pajamas. And when I dared to look lower, the darker patch below revealed my granddaughter’s hairy Mons Venus with only thin, white cotton to hide it. I longed to sniff and touch her there. She answered me after swallowing, “Yeah, it sucks.”

“Did you have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

My granddaughter frowned. “Yeah ... boyfriend, but we broke up a couple of months ago. Long story.”

“Ah, well I don’t want to bring back something you’d rather not talk about.”

Peyton finished her meal, then leaned back in the chair. It was one of those recliner types with soft, padded arms. Instead of pulling the lever and reclining, Peyton brought her legs up and hung them over the sides of the chair. One can only imagine where my eyes were drawn.

The thin fabric in the crotch of Peyton’s pajama bottoms was worn. Several dime and quarter-sized holes opened up within the cotton. Light blonde hairs. Thin, pink labia. A hint of my granddaughter’s barely hidden vagina. Oh my God! I was so hard that I shifted my legs to the side and wrapped one over the other.

“He cheated on me,” she said after a moment of contemplation, “with a friend of mine.”

“Oh, dear,” I said in my best sympathetic voice. Honestly, the only emotion I felt right then was intense arousal, my eyes sticking to where Peyton’s legs were spread and offering me an intimate view of the most private parts of her body.

She didn’t seem to notice that I couldn’t look away from her barely-covered genitals and explained further, “It sucked so bad, too, because she knew about us and that we’d been together for a while. I definitely won’t miss either of them.”

“Well, I’m sure when you are ready, you’ll find a nice boy in Texas who will be lucky to be with you.”

Peyton smiled, “I hope so.”

She shifted and moved one leg from the chair arm, blocking the arousing view of her young crotch. I could still see her pink areolae, though, and that was more than enough to keep me hard.

“Are you dating anyone, Grandpa Jim?” my granddaughter asked, finally looking at my face again.

I shook my head, “Nah ... not since your grandmother...”

“That sounds sad...”

I shrugged, “Oh, it’s not too bad, really. I get by. I find things to keep me busy now. It was work for a long time, then, these last couple of years, I’ve found other ways to be distracted.”

“Like what?”

“Err,” I stalled for time, “uh ... the stock market. I play the stock market.”

“Oh,” Peyton said, clearly disinterested and not letting me so easily change the subject, “but don’t you want to date again?”

“Maybe ... if I met the right person. Maybe...”

“Okay,” she replied, her legs together in the chair, rocking slightly side-to-side. It made my granddaughter’s young breasts jiggle and the result was that her nipples grew visibly erect. “I like having a boyfriend, myself. Even though he was an ... ass,” she paused to see if I could say anything about her mild curse word, then continued, “I still miss being with him.”

“What did you two do for fun?”

“Oh, you know,” Peyton said, smiling with a light blush on her beige cheeks, “boyfriend-girlfriend stuff...”

“Ah,” I replied. That single sound offered no glimpse into the arousing thoughts which swept into my head with Peyton’s words. “That’s fun, I seem to remember...”

Peyton watched me a moment, then looked down at her hands, “Yeah...”

“Did your dad know ... about you and your boyfriend ... doing stuff?”

“Yeah,” my granddaughter replied, “he made me get an IUD cause he didn’t want me to get pregnant...”

“Sounds reasonable ... guess that means you weren’t using condoms?”

She shrugged, appearing less uncomfortable than I would have expected by our conversation. “In the beginning, yeah ... but after a while ... no...”

“He was your first, wasn’t he...” I said without asking a question.

“Yeah...”

“Those are the ones you’ll always remember, but trust me when I say the pain, the loss, that all fades, especially after you find someone new to have fun with.”

“Thanks, yeah, I know,” Peyton replied, leaning forward over her thighs and brining her arms in tight to her chest, “it just sucks...”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do while you’re here, just say it.”

“Thanks, Grandpa Jim,” she smiled, “You always were pretty great to me.”

I went to bed before my granddaughter and when I pulled my pants down and looked at my underwear, there was a huge, sticky spot where my cock was drooling precum all afternoon. I pulled out my pleasure doll and stripped off the clothing she wore, then pulled a blonde wig out, the hair not too different from Peyton’s.

I put it in the center of the bed and opened her legs, lubed up her vaginal opening, then slid my raging cock inside after the internal warming patch had brought the silicon up to temperature. “Oh, Peyton,” I whispered, “You are so tight and wonderful. Beautiful, sweet, Peyton. Take me inside of you ... take Grandpa Jim into your body and let me fuck you so good...”

The doll stared straight up, no reaction to my words, of course, but the dirty talk fueled me and I told her, “I love fucking you, Peyton ... I love fucking your fourteen-year old pussy ... Do you like it inside your pussy? You are so amazing and sexy. So beautiful. I love you so much ... I love fucking you, Peyton. I love your little pussy. I love your little tits. Do you like having Grandpa Jim inside your little pussy, Peyton? Do you want Grandpa Jim to cum inside you, Sweetie? Can I cum inside your tight fourteen-year old pussy?”

It didn’t take too many thrusts to start filling ‘Peyton’ with my cum. I heaved several times, unloading, sweating and panting, calling my granddaughter’s name as quietly as I could.

I rolled off to catch my breath and my heart nearly stopped.

My door was open and in the entrance to my bedroom, my granddaughter stood in her pajamas, face a look of surprise and horror. She stared at me, her eyes caught mine, and then she pushed herself off the doorframe and disappeared down the hall.

My god, was I horrified with myself! I couldn’t believe I’d been caught. She must have opened my door on her own, there was no way I hadn’t closed it. Although ... Living alone, I never closed my door. Had I forgotten that? Could my mind have missed that detail? I was getting older, and I’d had some memory issues the past few years, had I really not thought to shut myself inside my room? Oh, God!

I was too scared and worried to even attempt to talk to Peyton. I didn’t know what to say, how to say it, or even if it might make things worse. Was she fearing her safety? God, I hoped not. I would never have touched her. Never. It was all just a fantasy, an escape. I wanted to tell her so, but my body was shivering and I think I might have been in a bit of shock. I didn’t even get up to close the door and hide my naked body and my sex doll, currently named ‘Peyton’ and still dripping my cum from her vaginal opening.

I slept not a wink but I didn’t get off the bed except when I had to pee badly somewhere around five in the morning, and by then, I was up for the day. I was wired on the dread of facing my granddaughter that day. What could I say to her? How could I explain? She hated me and I had hurt her. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do.

I heard her leave her bedroom and go to the bathroom a couple of hours later and the pit in my stomach became a gaping wound. I felt sick.

Peyton came into the living room where I was sitting quietly. I didn’t try to make eye contact. She sat down in the same chair she’d been in the night before. My granddaughter said nothing for a while.

“I think you forgot to shut your door last night...” her voice came to me from a distance.

I nodded weakly.

“Did you mean what you said? About me?”

“Huh?” My confusion was genuine.

“When you told that ... doll ... that I was beautiful,” Peyton said evenly.

I looked up at last to see the expression on her face. It was even but soft, none of the hatred, the sadness, the anger I expected to find. Peyton wore the same pajamas as the previous night, and with her legs spread open somewhat, hints of her pussy and private hairs were easily visible. I groaned and tried to look from her crotch, failing badly.

“I ... Yes...”

“How long?” she asked, watching my reaction, “how long have you used that doll to fantasize about me?”

“A couple of years...”

I saw her do the math. “Since I last saw you, then ... Hmm...”

Remaining silent, I managed to finally draw my eyes away from my granddaughter’s barely-concealed crotch.

“Is she always me?” she asked. Only later would I realize how mature a question that was for a fourteen-year old.

“Not always, no...”

“But other girls my age...”

“Yes.”

“Have you ... have you ever fucked someone my age?” she asked, her tone softening, her eyes softer than before.

“Only when I was a young man ... not in many decades...”

“Grandma Jane...”

“Yes ... when she was sixteen...”

Peyton shifted her legs but didn’t close them. I looked back to notice that my granddaughter’s little pink nipples were once again hard.

“So you like fucking girls my age, then...”

“I do...”

“But you haven’t in a long time ... so that explains the doll,” Peyton stated, then added, “Doesn’t explain why me, though...”

“Because,” I told her honestly, “you are beautiful. You are so very sexy. I’m sorry,” I said, shaking myself a moment, “No, I should not have said that ... I’m very sorry...”

“It’s okay,” Peyton assured me, “I like to feel sexy...”

Her legs shifted again, once more draping over the padded arms of the chair. My eyes moved quickly between Peyton’s thighs. An unmistakeable wet spot was visible just where my granddaughter’s fourteen-year old vagina was nestled against the fabric. I shuddered at the sight.

“Did you really mean what you said about wanting to fuck me? Was that real?”

I felt the lump in my throat and couldn’t say a word at first, then managed to admit in a low voice, “Yes...”

“Well,” Peyton said, her legs rocking, shifting the holes in her pajama bottoms slightly from side-to-side, the wet spot growing bigger by the second, “I might like that...”