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Stories I like: Great Grandmother Comes Alive

Great Grandmother Comes Alive

My great grandmother, Edith has been in a care home for some years. She is 93 and, put bluntly, is not all there — it’s not Alzheimer’s but a form of dementia which means her mind wanders and she behaves irrationally much of the time – although she sometimes recognises the staff in the home, she less often knows her f****y but can cope with the majority of routine activities in the place.

I’m now 18 and until recently had only visited her when f***ed to. It’s not that I’m callous but she’s been in there since I was a little k** and I don’t really know what little there is left of her. Plus I’m mostly away at boarding school (all boys) so have better things to do with my free time — like try and lose my cherry as most of my mates claim to have.

I’ve always gone there on birthdays and so on — usually with my Gran (Edith’s daughter, Vera, who’s 70 herself) and her grandson, my Dad. It was always depressing but could be worse — some of the other poor sods are completely past it, incontinent, drooling, hanging around in dressing gowns — at least she’s usually clean and fully dressed unless it’s really a bad day. Although she mainly talks crap she’s generally cheerful, only occasionally dissolving into tears for no obvious reason.

About a year or two back I went in as usual and sat in the extra chair playing with my phone. Dad and Gran made all the running and I couldn’t really hear what was being said above the music in my headphones but they were having some sort of conversation and Great Gran was quite animated — laughing and throwing her legs — one of her slippers flew off and my Dad retrieved it, sliding it onto the old lady’s foot. I couldn’t help notice that she was wearing what looked like a golden, fully fashioned nylon stocking (I’m an expert and losing her slipper revealed a reinf***ed heel and toe, one of my favourites forms of lingerie!). This was not as odd as it seemed — most of her clothes were antique, presumably for continuity the home kept their patients in what they’d brought with them and those sorts of nylons would have been the norm in Edith’s day. Frankly I felt slightly uncomfortable for noticing an old lady’s hosiery — but did I see Dad adjusting his trouser-front too as he sat back in the chair? Christ! I think so, he had a bit of a stiffy (I felt even more uncomfortable about that!).

Porn at school was all sorts but as I’ve said my particular fancy was lingerie and nylons in particular. There was plenty to feast on — all leggy models and Baywatch style plastic boobs, too glossy but good enough for a wank. Despite which after that incident I was always reminded of Great Granny Edith’s nylons whenever there were seamed stockings in the magazines – and to my surprise, after a while, the thought of Edith’s stopped making me feel embarrassed, quite the reverse in fact — I was kinky even at that age!

On my subsequent visits to the home I didn’t mind if my great grandmother was not up to any conversation at all and she frequently wasn’t, just sitting there rocking sometimes. I found myself more interested in her clothing — yes, they were definitely stockings because not always did the shade on each leg perfectly match (see — I’m expert and a detective) albeit always they were some sort of honey gold and nearly always seamed. I would take surreptitious photo’s with my phone and wank about them when I got home — there was something horny about actually knowing someone who wore such things out of choice, not because a pornographer paid her to do so.

I became obsessed; I wanted to have a stocking to wank with and would often wonder how I might get one. I would visit more frequently, taking the bus with my Gran who used to go without my Dad at least twice a week. I went so often that Great Granny Edith’s face would light up when I walked in, even though I’m sure she didn’t know who I was. I liked it when she smiled like that, but naturally I was only interested in her stockings — she’s in her 90’s for fuck’s sake! But I never got anywhere — Gran was always present, sometimes Dad too — there was no chance for pinching anything of any kind. I needed to visit alone.

So when Gran went on holiday last month I volunteered to visit — my Mum took the piss because it was so out of character.

“She’s got no money to leave you, you know!” she joked “Anyway, she won’t remember you went to see her so no brownie points there!”

I took the bus on the Monday. Great Gran’s face lit up again as I went in, delivering her a few sweets that she liked and hoping she’d leave the room for long enough for me to go through her drawers.

We sat, me opposite her trying to catch glimpses of her stocking tops but her dress was too low below the knee. She rambled on about her late husband, their life and I heard for the umpteenth time how their only son Michael had been killed in a motorbike accident and how my Gran had been doted on as though an only c***d, treated too favourably by her father and spoiled, whereas Mikey had been Edith’s favourite.

“Such a good looking boy — he could have had his pick”.

She stared into the distance — oddly, although she seemed distant she was making greater sense than usual.

She said “I have some photo’s if you would like to see them?”

I’d seen them before but she pulled open the bedside table drawer and pulled out two well-worn albums. We looked through them and I saw her entire life, from black-and-white to colour and from youth to retirement. I could see the young Edith was fairly good looking and had had quite a figure. I found myself looking at the woman beside me and for the first time actually as a woman. She was still slim, gaunt even, so her figure was still there, but her clothing disguised all but her legs. Her boobs were lower, almost to her waist in fact, her hair wispy, fine, thinning and white and her skin pale and wrinkled, but she had an elegant, almost statuesque quality despite her frailty and stiff joints.

Then my moment came.

“I must spend a penny, Charlie” she said (my name’s Peter) and slowly eased her way out of the chair, using a stick to help her down the corridor to the toilets — I saw the back of her bony legs for the first time that day — yep, seams again – horny as fuck! Once she was out of sight I quickly took a stocking I’d had my eye on in a pile of washing waiting collection from under a chair, replacing it with a clean one from her chest of drawers. I nearly took her worn knickers too but that felt like a bridge too far.

That night I was so excited I went to bed early and nearly wanked myself raw, sucking the nylon foot, tasting its saltiness then cumming into the reinf***ed toe of the stocking. I came about four or five times – how I wished I taken her knickers too. I had to go back, and soon — Tuesday!

This time I could not let on to anyone where I’d gone. I just went out, Mum assumed with a friend, but I caught the bus alone to the home — they were a little surprised to see me but busy so said nothing, just smiled.

My great grandmother was sl**ping and instead of going in and sitting, leaving the door ajar as usual I closed it behind me and quickly went over to see if there were any used knickers below her bedside chair — my mouth was dry, my head pounding, my heart in my mouth.

She stirred. “Lenny?” she said — her husband, my great grandfather’s name. I said nothing but walked toward her. The beige dress had short sleeves, a gathered waist and came just to her knees as she sat there. She had left the top button open and one was missing. In the baggy dress she seemed even thinner than usual and in her sl**p her face was very hollow and drawn; but much of her fat appeared to have stayed on her chest. Usually her boobs were not noticeable, but today they seemed obvious despite the ill-fitting clothing — perhaps I was just looking harder. She was wearing those golden stockings again, fully closed slippers on feet. I was hard as nails in my boxers, trembling with excitement.

I leant over her to look through her dark glasses to see if she was asl**p still — it seemed so, although a little dampness ran from her eye, moistening her cheek, her lips mean and thin, un-made up. I don’t know what came over me but as I leaned to kiss her before I sat down I pretended to stumble and grasped her bosom as if by accident. To my surprise she reached up and held the back of my head and held my lips tight to hers — surprisingly strong for a frail lady in her nineties! When we parted, I sat next to her. I’m not sure if I sat down, or my knees gave out. My cock was throbbing — I was desperate for a wank. Despite all this she was still half-asl**p or more, fiddling absent minded with the buttons on her dress.

I so wanted to take advantage — I didn’t care about her underwear any more, just what she had in them.

“Len?” she murmured again, eyes still closed.

“Yes…?” I answered, nervous as hell even though she would probably not recognise that deceit.

“Well then, come here” she said, and reached out her arms, eyes still closed.

As I was sitting on her right, her left arm went to the back of my head again, and her right arm around my back. I leaned toward her and put my right hand to her waist. She pulled me tighter and as I bent my right elbow, it squashed against her left breast. I was worried that she would wake, surely, but she didn’t seem at all conscious. Then I saw the medication tray — she’d had her tranquilisers and that’s why she was comatose.

She opened her mouth and poked out her dryish, pale pink tongue, hardly sophisticated but the instant I felt it on my lips I opened my mouth and our tongues met. I’d never kissed a woman like that before so the fact it was my great grandmother was a secondary concern — I was nearly sick with excitement.

While our tongues were slowly playing with each other, she leaned her left shoulder back slightly and I brought my right hand back and cupped her full breast. I could feel her nipple harden through her dress and brassiere. I gave it a gentle pinch.

“You know, Lenny, they’ll find us if the train stops” she said, complete bollocks but my bollocks were about to burst so I didn’t care a bit.

“Don’t put it under the plaster, I don’t like it there!” she went on. I’ve no idea what she meant but I kissed her again but this time she would not play ball, mouth closed. Damn!

I took her hand and rubbed it against my erection through my Levi’s — it felt good and I was dying to spunk off but also to get as far as I could. She has a private room, but not with the door unlocked but I didn’t care. I unzipped my jeans and pulled my swollen cock from within, a trail of pre-cum flipping across the arm of the chair the old woman sat in. I then knelt on my chair and offered my knob up to Great Gran’s face, pulling back the foreskin to expose my helmet, covered in slimy pre-cum, before pressing it against her narrow lips. She didn’t budge but the contact was enough for me and I came, sending a great spurt of hot spunk spilling over her mouth and left cheek, again onto the chair — I was mortified!

Excited as I was I didn’t care about the pleasure, just what would I do to clear up the mess and my erection shrivelled to half size in a split second. I zipped up and grabbed the half full plastic beaker of tea from the pill tray — it had cooled and I threw it at Edith’s face so that it spilled onto the chair. Of course she woke, alarmed.

“Nanna!” I said, “Are you OK?” pretending she’d spilled it herself and grabbing a cloth to mop my semen off her cheek and into the now tea-stained chair.

“Don’t be too long Gertie” she scolded an imaginary woman and I saw genuine concern in her empty, slightly bl**dshot eyes but I felt little guilt having got away with it.

Two days later I was there again. The home orderlies clearly thought it odd but I explained my Gran was away and I was standing in — they thought I was an angel.

“Edith’s taken to locking herself in her room, Love” they warned “If she won’t let you in we have a pass key but so long as they’re obviously sound or someone’s with them we don’t generally go in until mealtimes so you might have had a wasted journey.”

I walked down the corridor — I could see the door was ajar and so knocked and listened. Edith was chatting to herself about flowers and paint or something — complete gibberish so I went in.

“Michael!” she said and her face blossomed into life as she mistook me for her long dead son. I walked over and kissed her on her forehead, disappointed that she’d not had her pills and slipped into another half-c***. “Cheeky monkey!” she chided me, though I don’t know why, and grinned, her eyes again moist.

“Is Dad with you?” she asked.

“Do you mean my Dad or Len, your husband?” I asked.

“Don’t call your father by his name!” she scolded – weird.

I sat next to her, consoling myself that there was at least two days’ washing waiting to be collected with a lovely long stocking on top of the pile, still stretched into a leg-shape from where she’d pulled it off the night before. She had different slippers on today — more feminine, mules and I could see the strong nylon band across her toes, the thicker nylon partly obscuring her toenails, the reinf***ed nylon heel exposed.

“Why don’t you go over and close the door?” she mumbled. “Poor Michael”, now looking sad again.

I got up and walked to the door.

“And Michael…” she said, “Turn the lock Love, Vera will be from school early today and your Dad might pick up fish and chips… or so he said.”

I was as confused as she was but naturally wanted to see what played out.

I did as she asked and when I turned around I saw she had moved from the chair to the edge of her bed. I walked up to her and she looked up at me. She raised her face to me and her tongue popped out as before, quite comical really but I kissed her again, firstly just on the lips in case I was misreading things then, as she probed my mouth with her dry little tongue I put my hand behind her head and plunged into her warm mouth. We kissed for a while and I eased onto the bed beside her — it was difficult because she wasn’t really cooperating , just behaving in a dream-like state.

She moved away and I thought we had finished but she said “We’ll have to hurry again Love, sorry.”

She kicked off her slippers, again I took in her gorgeous old-fashioned stockings, wriggling her toes in the thicker brown nylon that covered them. She brought up her legs, so she was now lying in the middle of her bed and I could see her stocking tops and pink nylon knickers up her tented dress.

She motioned to me to lie down beside her and propping myself up on my left arm, I moved myself up and kissed her. I allowed my chest to put some weight on her right breast. I could feel its volume between us. I squeezed her left breast again with my right hand. When I pinched her nipple again, she let out a soft moan. I massaged her breast and then slid my hand to her buttons. I unfastened each and when I had unbuttoned to below her bra, I began to kiss her chin and then her neck. I continued to unbutton the dress as my trail of kisses made it to her boobs.

“Oh Mikey” she murmured. I started kissing the exposed portion of each breast as my hand worked feverishly to open the remainder of her dress. When I had undone the last I raised myself up and looked into her eyes. The body before me was torn with age but the eyes burned with the passion of true love albeit perhaps that of a mother for her dead son. I moved my hands and took Great Gran’s breasts in each one. I lowered my head to hers as I squeezed her heavy boobs. She was moaning again and moving her legs in a cycling manner, the swish of her nylons against eachother. I rolled her gently on to her side, reached behind her and unclasped her bra. I laid her on her back and eased her bra off her breasts. Her nipples were surprisingly dark and extended. I got her left breast in my hand and lowered my lips to it, sucking it to a hard peak. She was writhing with as I suckled on her. I reached up and brought the shoulder of her dress down her arm. She easily slipped her arm out of it. I did the same with the other arm and she was out of her dress completely. Grasping the centre of her bra, I lifted it up and away exposing the soft, sloppy, empty breasts that had once fed my great uncle that I had never met. I returned to kissing her nipples, first one and then the other, hungrily covering them with my saliva.

“Oh Mikey, I want to feel you…” she said and pushed me away from her. I rose to a sitting position and began unbuttoning my shirt, pulled it out of my jeans and cast it aside.

I lay onto Edith and ground my bare chest onto hers, feeling her nipples grazing against me. I kept my hips off her, so as not to allow too much weight on her but also to allow me access to her knickers. As we kissed again I moved my chest which caused her flattened breasts to roll between us. My hand slid down her side, along the outside of her hips and down the outside of her leg to her knee. I then came up over her knee and moved my hand up the inside of her leg past her baggy stocking top – her thighs were wasting away and thin but the nylon stockings still felt good with the warmth from her body. She opened her legs to allow me to continue.

When I got to her knickers they were wet at her crotch — I didn’t know that was possible at her age.

I pressed my palm against her mound and I could feel her moving her hips against my hand. This woman was unbelievable. She was pressing her pussy into my hand and trying to suck my tongue down her throat, her dentures clacking against my tongue, nearly choking herself. She was crippled with arthritis but the closeness of her departed son seemed to revitalise her and she moved slowly but with some urgency alongside me. I don’t know who wanted it most.

I moved the gusset of her knickers aside and slipped a finger into her pussy. It felt wonderful in there. I withdrew my finger and sat up. She got a disappointed look on her face, and started to cry.

“You’re not leaving me again, are you Michael?”

“No Mum” I said, “I need to do something.”

I reached down and taking the sides of her knickers I began to pull them down. She raised up her hips to allow me to get them down. I looked at her pussy as I was bringing them to her knees over her nylons. The mostly dark hair matched the hair colour I had seen in the pictures. It was still thick and curly although smelled faintly of urine but I didn’t care at this moment.I slid her knickers down the rest of the way, off her crippled but shapely stockinged feet. I moved down to the bottom of the bad and lifting up her leg, I began kissing her instep, briefly sucking the reinf***ed toe of the stocking.

Tense from my tickling attention to her feet, when I stopped my great grandmother relaxed completely and I kissed my way up her leg, to her calf, knee and up her thigh. As she lay on the bed I moved her legs apart and brought my head down to her pussy. I could smell the desire that was glistening on the hairs outside her lips. I put my fingers on each side and peeled them apart. I blew gently on the insides and then followed my breath with my lips. I kissed her pussy up and down the length of it. She was moaning and her hips were beginning to move. I pulled her lips open again and licked her from bottom to top in one stroke. I felt her tighten up as my tongue crawled over her tiny shrivelled clit, so I sucked on it and she squeezed my head into her with a hand on my scalp.

I backed off a little to allow her to get used to it and then started kissing her fanny again. I kissed her up and down a few times and then started pushing my tongue inside her. I pushed my head in harder and moved my head up and down over her pussy. Her moaning became more intense and she reached down and pushed my head into her with both her hands. It was like she was trying to send me head-first back into her womb.
“Oh Michael, be nice to Mummy. Michael, Michael!” she yelped and I felt her stiffen in climax, spitting slightly as she panted, her age-weakened bladder leaking a little with the effort. I slowed down and gently licked the juices flowing from her, which where oily, not just piss.

I stopped and got to a kneeing position, to look at her. I looked down to see her soaked and shining cunt. I shifted my gaze up her wrinkled and soft abdomen and then to her ample breasts, liver spots all over her skin. Her tits were sagging out to the sides, but the nipples were still hard and erect. I then looked up to her face. She had had her eyes closed and as I looked at her she murmered “That was perfect, Ducky…”

I got off the bed at her stockinged feet and couldn’t resist massaging them, holding one to my mouth and enjoying the feint vinegar whiff of the perspiration from her feet.

I undid my zipper and belt and opening my jeans and underpants slid them down my legs at the same time. I rubbed my cock, still sheathed in its foreskin on the sole of her foot — God it was good. I stepped out of my shoes and moved up on to the bed, between her legs and braced myself above her on my straight arms. I looked her in the eyes, and lowed myself onto her. As our lips met, the tip of my cock was at the entrance to her pussy. I kissed her deeply, sliding my tongue into her unresponsive mouth, licking her tongue and in so doing making her move it a little. I pulled my head up to see her wrinkled face.

She looked back at me, anxious but loving and put her bony hand on my buttocks. She applied some pressure and I moved my dick slowly into her, the foreskin rolling back as I pushed between her tight fanny lips. The exposed head slipped into her and about another inch and she stopped her pressure on my butt – it clearly hurt her a little. I stopped moving into her and allowed her to grow comfortable with me inside her – she was tight through little use I suppose. But very soon she was pushing my hips into hers again. She backed off the pressure for a moment and I eased out of her slightly — our first stroke — and my first ever inside a woman!

A smile came over her face and I pushed deeper into her this time, feeling the slightly scarred walls of her cunt against my helmet, grasping me so tight but soft too, like wet, grainy velvet. I withdrew and then slid back in again, then a second time and a third. Then I pushed my bursting erection into her full length, right up against the neck of her uterus – she gasped.

“OK Great Nanna?” I asked.

“Nanna?” she replied “She’s not here until Sunday? ” clearly confused by my mistakenly addressing her as I usually would.

She moaned as I slid in and out of her like a warm oiled machine – it was all I could do not to spunk inside the old woman and she was experienced enough to remember the signs.

“Oh Mikey, careful, don’t come in there, your father will find out!” Jeez – what was she thinking?!

Then, as I thrust into her (probably a bit too hard) grasping her withered thighs through her nylon stocking tops.

“Oh my baby” came hoarsely out of her mouth, the top set of her false teeth fallen clown-like to her bottom jaw.

“I’m sorry Lenny… uh… uh… uh… ”

Every time I thrust into her she grunted as it knocked the air out of her.

“I’m so… uh… sorry… uh… Len… uh… oooh, forgive us Len!” I hoped her wailing was pleasure.

I felt her juices flowing around my dick and I started hammering myself into her, in and out, side to side she was moaning and moving her hips as much as she could, her nylon clad feet braced on the bed at my sides.

We continued until I could feel the pressure in my balls building up. I increased the tempo and she was still thrusting back a little with me but her gasps were of pain as well as pleasure. Soon I was grunting too and really ramming my cock into her cunt, my pubes meshing with hers, matted with our cum-fluids. The pressure was at the point of no return and I lay onto her and grabbed her breasts with both hands and squeezed them, digging my fingernails into the baggy sacks. She pulled her legs around my hips and held me inside her. I could feel the final pressure of her fanny muscles and pushed in as deep as I could and held it inside her. I pinched a nipple between my thumb and forefingers and she said yelped in complaint.

“Don’t come Michael! Take it out of me before you come!” she gasped but it was too late and I felt the explosion of my cock inside her, spurt after spurt of my warm cum splashing into my great grandmother’s pussy. She too had felt it and she stiffened again pre-orgasm, this time shuddering as she climaxed and groaning loudly enough for others to hear:

“Mikey, oh Mikeeeeey, ah-ah-aaahhhh!”

With a final twitch of my cock I felt the last spit of my spunk go deep into her – I’d never cum like that before, I was empty and Edith was full. How long had it been since she had semen inside her I wondered.

I propped myself on my arms – I wanted to get my weight off her. She had tears in her eyes but made a watery smile and looked at me.

“Oh Michael, why did you leave me?”

“I don’t know what to say, but I’m not Michael” I replied.

Her eyes glazed over and she fell silent for a while before almost whimpering “I know, I know Love”

She rolled onto her side, tears flowing from her eyes and my thick, jelly-like spunk running from her gaping pussy onto the bedspread.

I moved slowly off the bed and pulled up my underpants and jeans. I then moved around to the head of the bed and sat on the edge.

“Come on Great Nanna — we’ve got to get you sorted” I said and she let me ease her up.

I kissed her again and she responded with another weak smile. I got my shirt and put it on then gathered up her bra and knickers and she began to get dressed, re-buttoning her dress once she’d put back on her bra, her nipples soft now, one folded upwards and peeking out of the top of the lacy cup.

As we were doing the final smoothing of our clothes, there was a knock at the door: “Lunch in 15 minutes, Eadie?”

I called back on her behalf.

“Do you want to eat?” I asked her, perhaps too patronisingly.

“I can decide that for myself Love” she replied, the most lucid I had ever heard her sound “I’m not a c***d… you know that.”

And with that she handed me her soaked knickers. “You might need these later…”

I looked at her and she grinned – the top plate of her teeth now completely missing.

“You cheeky young sod!” she lisped.

I stuffed her knickers into my pocket, the gusset still damp from her pussy – she had a point, I would certainly find a use for them.

“I hope you can bring them back before your Gran comes to visit again?” she asked, an impish twinkle in her rheumy eyes. I knew what she was driving at… at least I hope I did because I’m going to visit again today… God I hope she’s wearing stockings again!

Updated: October 21, 2016 — 1:24 pm

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