Grandma put us out on the sleeping porch. “I know how you used to love it out here,” she said. “I know you two lovebirds are going to love it even more.”

The bed in the sleeping porch was more like a cot, a rickety cot, much too small for two adults, especially when one of them, Curt, is well over six feet. But it wasn’t just the cot’s fault, it was the cats. They were out in the alley howling and growling and screeching and yowling all night long.

Somehow, finally, Curt and I drifted off, but a moment later Grandma peeked into the room. “Good morning you lovely little lovebirds,” she cooed. “I’m off to church. See you at noon.” She stood in the doorway peering in for a time, then winked at me and left. A glance at Curt provided the reason for her delay.

“What?” Curt mumbled, all innocent-like.

“You little lovebird,” I teased, reaching for his erection.

“Hold that thought,” he said. “Gotta pee.”

He beelined for the bathroom, and me, with similar needs, followed. I love watching Curt pee. I love holding him and aiming him. But in Grandma’s house it didn’t seem quite proper.

“I wish your grandma had a shower,” Curt said. “This tub is tiny.” We managed to squeeze in together, and it was almost too cozy for sex, to say nothing of getting clean, but we managed both, though I didn’t come, and technically Curt’s climax was not in the bathtub proper.

“Towels?” Curt asked.

In the tiny linen cabinet was something not much bigger than a washcloth and a scraggly scarf.

“Maybe her proper towels are in her bedroom closet,” I said. We padded down the hall and entered Grandma’s bedroom.

“Wow, that bed looks mighty inviting,” Curt said. “Why don’t we...”

“We can’t,” I said, as I opened Grandma’s closet. “It wouldn’t be...”

Beneath the top towel lay a bright pink dildo.

“But the rug looks pretty comfy,” I said, waggling the dildo. “And I still need a proper cum.”