Copyright© 2004

On day a Monterey daughter
Did scuba down under the water.
She later turned up
The mom of a pup,
And they say t'was a otter that gotter.

My grandmother came to me that first night.

I had been caught twice earlier in the day, once looking up her skirt at church of all places and then down her blouse to the abundant cleavage. That second time I saw a private smile where I had only seen surprise the time before.

When I awoke, I saw the shadow pass through my door way, closing my door silently behind it. Then it came closer and I smelt grandmothers distinctive perfume before I saw the short curly gray mass of hair and the glint from her over-sized eye glasses to identify her.

Sitting up on my elbows as grandmother sat at the edge of my bed, she shushed me as her hands moved to pull my blanket down to my bare feet. Deftly those same hands pulled my pyjamas bottoms down over my penis and balls.

I sat frozen, stunned, and watched as her warm hand encircled my soft penis.

Grandma looked back and forth from her hand, pumping gently up and down my adolescent penis, to my eyes. When it was apparent that it was not going to get hard, so shocked was I, that grandma leaned in and whispered in a tiny squeaky voice, "Granny wants to make you happy honey?"

Perhaps it was her words that brought me out of my inaction or perhaps it was the gentle matronly kiss that followed - but my young penis began to harden wonderfully in her hand.

Her kisses became more passionate, her lips widening and pressing into my own urgently as her hand never paused.

It was the most important moment in my life - perhaps not the first orgasm, but most certainly the first induced by another. I was not aware how long it took - but it had to have been but a few seconds, certainly less than a minute.

My seed, that first blast, shot out the head of my circumcised penis to dirty my pyjama top. The following blasts coating the urgent movements of my grandmothers hand.

Then it was over and as I had been since awakening, I was frozen sitting up on my elbows watching my grandparent. She retrieved a few tissues from my bedside table and cleaned my pyjama top and then her hand of the evidence of my orgasm. When she discarded the tissue in the garbage, she gently pulled my bottoms back up to my waist and then pulled the blanket back to my chest. The single kiss that followed was chaste, like most of my grandparents kisses up to that night.

Again her whisper, "Will you keep this as our secret honey?"

Who would believe me? Sounding like a croak to my own ears, "Yes granny."

She smiled sweetly and retreated soundlessly from my room.

Our affair started that day and would continue to fill my nights with pleasure.

My mother's parents had moved in with us when I was ten - and was a constant dispute between mom and dad. They simply had no where else to go and mother often said she felt responsible for them. The embarrassing arguments between my parents, and often with the rest of us overhearing, would continue through my whole adolescence.

I was an innocent thirteen that first night - feeling like an unknown new world had opened before me. Perhaps it had.

Nearly each night my grandmother would leave her bed and her husband to enter our little private world, my room. That initial hand job was but an introduction to the lust-filled world that I lived.

My young virginal and innocent ways would transform into a young man comfortable and familiar with a woman's body. Yes, even a woman the age of my grandmother.

She was certainly no beauty, by any teenage standards at least. With a curly mop of gray hair that matched the hair between her legs incidentally, she would never pass for middle age ever again. Then there was the wide round ass and huge hanging breasts - both tapering to, if not thin, a waist the revealed her hourglass figure. Her legs were short but shapely, her ass never to be firm in her lifetime. She often wore these ugly round black frame eyeglasses, often leaving them on as we had sex.

Grandmother was not ugly either. Please do not think that! In my eyes she was lovely and was mine to enjoy.

And enjoy her I did.

It soon became apparent to my innocence that nothing would be forbidden to me. Hand jobs were followed by blow jobs, then with my hands beneath her nightie or skirt while she blew me. Then her breasts were free as she bobbed her head up and down my cock, allowing me to spray my seed upon her big white tits. Then she was naked, laying on my bed as I explored freely for hours - tasting and touching every part of her body. Vaginal sex came soon after that, then all the wondrous positions with me inside her. We sixty-nined and I sprayed about every centimetre of her body with my ejaculate. I moved on to fucking her huge tits and then even to anal sex.

Grandma worked hard to stay silent through our encounters - biting and screaming into my pillow frequently - though having my bedroom in the basement helped. Her hairy sex intrigued me, often becoming so wet that it rolled down her fat thighs in small rivers of juice.

She told me again and again that she loved me, that she needed me, needed my cock. She began to use words that were so foreign from her lips - cock, cunt, fuck. She told me I was giving her more happiness in our nights together than the rest of her life.

My grandpa is such an dick-head!

Anything I wished, any act, any time. I began instigating encounters outside the darkness of my bedroom - with the house empty, on a drive in my mom's car and after I got a job, in a few hotel rooms. She was much more shy in the light of day - but she never denied me.

All this fucking left me more in tune with my studies, constantly attaining honours in all my classes. My family was proud of me, as it looked as if I would be the first of us to go to University - my grandmother showed me, frequently, how proud she was.

Life was perfect and I thought it would last forever.

So naive.

The first thing that showed a crack in my pleasure-filled world was my own mother. Early in our affair I was worried how mother seemed to stare at me out the corner of her eye, looking at me soberly and never with a word explaining what was on her mind. Years later I would realize she knew, even back then, what her mother and I were doing in private.