It was kind of a vacation for us, staying over at our kid’s place watching our grandson Tommy as our daughter and her husband did a second honeymoon sort of thing in the south of France. The first week with Tommy went great! What a great kid! The second week he had band camp. Jamie drove him up. With the tuba, there wouldn’t be much room in our tiny car. Saying Jamie is petite would be a significant understatement. Our grandson Tommy, at six foot six and not yet out of high school, clearly had some of my genes. I assured Jamie I was fine not going. “But will you miss me?” she asked, leaning out the window of the little car. The drive was far enough that she’d stay in a hotel before heading back the next day. I smiled and said, “Drive safe, and text me when you get there.” “Okay, Drew,” she said, “and don’t forget to take your medicine.” I gave the car a good-to-go tap, shouted “Play well” to Tommy, and they were off.

Inside I puttered around, pretty much wasted the day, caught up on some on my reading, and turned in early, having remembered to take my medicine. I didn’t sleep well. I never do when Jamie’s not in bed with me.

Next morning I dilly-dallied, finally eating a piece of toast. I thought maybe I’d feel better after a shave and a shower, but in the bedroom, I dilly-dallied some more and then thought I’d do a good deed by making the bed. Jamie would be so proud of me. Inspiration struck. I’d change the sheets. I stripped the bed, lugged the linens to the basement and started the washer, then while waiting for the cycles to complete, I thought that while I’m at it, maybe I should do Tommy’s bed.

Sure enough his bed was unmade. I was about to yank off the comforter when I noticed something peeking out from one of his pillows. A magazine. Not just any magazine. Well, I shouldn’t be surprised at what someone Tommy’s age might find of interest. But it seemed a little peculiar. Wasn’t all that stuff on the Internet now?

I took a closer look at the cover and my heart almost stopped. The model on the cover could have been Jamie’s identical twin. But I was pretty sure Jamie didn’t have a twin. I would have known that for sure. But it couldn’t possibly be Jamie, could it? I mean, Jamie looks great, but she doesn’t look twenty. The magazine didn’t look decades old.

I sat on the bed reading, mostly looking, studying. Jamie has a little tattoo, the cutest little clover, on her lower belly. None of the pictures in the magazine showed her from that angle. But even if they had, if there weren’t a tattoo, obviously the pictures could have been taken before she got the tattoo. Or maybe they airbrushed it out. What was I thinking? Mostly that the pictures were hot. Sexy. Maybe perverse too.

I couldn’t help remembering the first time she gave me a blowjob. We were in her dad’s huge car. “You’re so big,” she’d said “So beautiful.” And then, without hesitation, she had my cock in her mouth. It was my first time. It was so good! I’m sure it wasn’t Jamie’s first time. Pretty sure. But it didn’t matter. I stared at the pictures and without really thinking about what I was doing, I relived those early times.

I got a little carried away. A lot carried away. I didn’t think at my age I’d have so much stuff. And most of it was on the pages of the magazine.

What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? I tried mopping the stuff with my shirt, but that made it worse. I thought I could cut out the spoiled pages, but surely Tommy would notice. I thought I could throw out the whole magazine. Maybe nothing need be said. But what if he asked? What would I say? Or should I be the one to initiate a discussion? Or could I find another copy of the magazine somewhere and substitute it? I felt hopelessly out of my league. Maybe Jamie would know what to do. But wait, what if that was Jamie in those pictures? I had an idea. I’d confess to discovering the magazine, tell Jamie how because it looked so much like her, so sexy, I couldn’t help myself. Throw myself on her mercy.

I spent most of the rest of the day dilly-dallying, and in the end I stuffed the magazine under the mattress. When Jamie got home late in the evening, I led her up to Tommy’s room, undressed her, and ravished her on Tommy’s bed. Tomorrow was time enough to figure out what to do about “Not Yer Grampa’s Gas Guzzler.”