Chapter 3

I was hardly able to sleep because my mind kept returning to what had just happened. I had enjoyed how my grandad had made me cum and I wanted more, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it happen. This was the second time he had made me cum and both times I had been passive. I had not objected or tried to stop him, but I had not actively responded as he managed to make me aroused.

The first time, I had seen him stroke his cock, so I knew that what he was doing to me was also arousing for him. Earlier I had seen him sniff my knickers as he picked them up from the floor, and it was very obvious that my grandad was attracted to me sexually. Now I had to figure out some way that I could try to encourage him to continue and to see how I could return the favour to him.

The next morning, I was feeling better and I decided that I had to keep the sexual momentum going because I didn’t want to wait another year before a new unplanned opportunity to explore our sexual attraction occurred.

However, I also knew that I couldn’t simply tell my grandad that I loved the way that he had made me feel and that I wanted more. I had to be more subtle than that, yet I had to let him know that that was what I wanted. So, I selected a long T-shirt that would cover me while emphasizing that I wasn’t wearing a bra, and also giving him the chance to see my bare bum whenever I bent over – and I intended to bend a lot.

I slipped on the T-shirt and made my way downstairs to the kitchen where I knew my grandad would be sitting at the table, drinking a cup of Earl Grey tea and reading the news on his mobile. This was his normal morning routine, and had been ever since he retired. When my granny was alive, they would both sit and discuss the news that they read from different newspapers. She was a die-hard Guardian reader, while he was an avid reader of the Sun. I was surprised the first time I was old enough to realise how diametrically opposed politically those two newspapers were, and also how their approaches to the news were so different. However, it did not seem to bother either of them that the news they read was reported in such different styles.

Actually, when I asked my granny about it one summer when I was 15 and stayed with them for a month, she confided in me that my grandad claimed that he liked his news to be reported in a simple fashion, but that she knew he actually enjoyed looking at the photo of the topless models who were featured on page 3 every day.

Although she did not elaborate on what that meant, I was old enough to understand that my grandad was still interested in sex although he was approaching retirement age. Sadly, my granny died the next year when I was 16, so until I started university and began to live with my grandad, I had forgotten about his favourite news outlet. However, now I had tangible evidence that he was indeed interested in sex.

“Good morning grandad,” I said as I entered the kitchen and headed to the kettle to make myself some tea.

“Moring Liz, how are you feeling this morning?” he replied casually and without looking up from his mobile, as if nothing had happened in my bedroom the night before.

“I’m feeling much better, thanks” I replied. “I slept really well last night.”

Instead of referring to what had happened, he continued, “Oh, before I forget, I washed your clothes and hung them out to dry on the washing line in the garden. It’s such a lovely day that they will dry soon. I’ll bring them in and put them away when they’re dry.”

When he told me this, I glanced out of the kitchen window which looked out on the secluded back garden where only a few months before he had fingered me to orgasm.

I could see my jeans, T-shirt, bra and socks along with a few shirts and underwear belonging to my grandad hanging from the washing line and being moved gently in the breeze. However, what I could not see was any sign of the knickers I had seen him sniff as he picked up my dirty clothes from the bedroom floor the night before.

I was about to ask him what he had done with my knickers, when it suddenly dawned on me why he had said that he would bring in the clothes when they were dry. He did not want me to see that he had not washed my knickers and that he had probably kept them in his bedroom.

That thought made me more sure that I had to try to encourage him to continue to be more open and daring with his exploration of my body. And also, I wanted to see more of his cock that I had glimpsed him wanking as he fingered me to orgasm in the garden.

I suddenly realized that I was no longer the innocent girl who had only once kissed a boy when I was 16. Now, I was on the verge of exploring a different side of me that I had barely acknowledged existed, and this realization made me feel scared but also excited. I wanted more to happen, but I was not sure what ‘more’ meant or how I would feel if things became more intense.

I also realized that if I did not encourage him, it might be months before another opportunity like the first time and the night before could arise. So, I took a deep breath and began planning what I could do as I continued to make myself a cup of tea.

I did not actually manage to think of any convincing way to show my grandad that I was ready and interested to take things further, but of course fate intervened. At least, that’s what I told myself later.