To Grandmother's House I Went
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2010 by Wayne Gibbous

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A grandson's tribute to the one who led him gently to manhood.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Incest   Grand Parent   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Squirting  

My grandmother, Sylvia, just passed away recently and I wanted to write down my memories of a most important time I spent with her, a remarkable and pivotal period in my growing up.

My grandmother, Sylvia, was my stepfather's mom. My own parents were divorced when I was just four and my mother remarried when I was about seven. My step-grandmother was a very classy lady, quite pretty and trim, who had been a judge's wife until he died of a heart attack about three years before my mother married her son.

My grandmother took to me and I took to her, we just clicked, if you know what I mean. So, I spent a lot of time at her house, often overnight, sometimes with cousins, sometimes by myself.

Her house would probably be called a mansion, it was large, three stories with many bedrooms. I always enjoyed staying overnight because I could pick out a different bedroom each time. She would always read me stories and as I got older, eight, nine, ten, even eleven, she would invite me into her bed, especially if there was a storm or if we had watched a scary movie or were reading a scary book.

We always had lots of fun, I got lots of hugs and snuggles, she often mussed my hair, whispered nonsensical things in my ear, tickled me until I cried for her to stop. Of course, as I became twelve, then, entered my teens, my overnight stays became less frequent.

Then, at my fifteenth birthday party, she whispered in my ear, "I want you to come over and stay the weekend, Howie, I have a special present just for you." Well, she had always chosen presents for me with great care, always something I've wanted and then cherished.

So, she picked me up Friday evening and took me to a very nice French restaurant and as we were waiting for our food to be served, I sat there looking at her. I was now fifteen, girls and women were of avid interest, I had several teachers, in fact, that I always watched with great relish, and I was struck by how attractive my step-grandmother was. Her face was quite pretty and she had a very nice figure with a nice, trim shape.

Mrs. Thomson and Ms. Lanier were my two favorite-looking teachers and my grandmother resembled Mrs. Thompson quite a lot. Their figures were very similar, all curves and full-breasted. I also had several friends whose moms I paid close attention to, my favorite MILFS, one, Andy Rhine's mom, she was really nice. I'd seen her in a short skirt once and that was the day that I became a 'leg-man, ' for sure.

So, not surprisingly, I sat there appraising my grandmother's figure, she was dressed, of course, very nicely, her hair and face perfectly done up, a dark skirt and jacket, trim at her waist, the jacket revealing to my view a good bit of cleavage that was especially enhanced whenever she reached for her wine glass. A jeweled pendant nestled between her breasts and I kept watching it move within her cleavage as we ate our supper.

I'm probably a pretty typical male of age fifteen. The expanse of open cleavage was making its presence felt right where one might expect and this was giving me erotic, yet very uncomfortable, thoughts and feelings. It was somewhat unsettling.

As I had my dessert, she asked me, "Are you all right, Howard?" as she followed my eyes down to her pendant cradled between her ample breasts and I think she realized what was the center of my rapt attention. She looked back up, smiled, and picked up the thread of our earlier conversation.

Then, standing outside as we waited for her car to be brought around, she held my arm close to her side.

"I'm so proud of you, Howie, you're so handsome, really becoming such a man. You must have a girlfriend or two, surely?"

"No, not really."

"Oh, that's so hard to believe. As handsome as you are. Then the girls your age are all fools. They should be fighting over you. I certainly would. Oh, yes," and she leaned over and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. And, we talked about this and that all the way to her house as I sat partly sideways admiring the view below the pendant.

 
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