She must have been feeling the same, because she left her chair and moved across to the large couch. Sitting in its centre, she drew her legs upwards and opened her thighs wide, offering me her now open and moist cunt.
Throwing some cushions on the floor, I knelt in front of her, my erection constantly bobbing up and down. She was still staring at it as a few words huskily left her lips.
“Will you fuck me?” she managed, already sounding breathless.
It would have been rude to refuse, and so, nervously and without further ado, I slid my throbbing cock inside her moist quim. There was no finesse to my lovemaking; I simply plunged my shaft in and out of her, all the while listening to her shrieks and grunts which accompanied each thrust. Intoxicated by the wine and her naked flesh, I watched her belly wobble as we shagged, her large breasts seeming to have a life of their own as they bounced in every direction.
Forget what you see in the films; this was simply a wham-bam, thank-you-mam affair. I don’t think either of us was interested in foreplay, just in fucking! I lasted long enough to watch her start to orgasm before exploding inside her, emptying my sack as my cock spurted cum deep inside her cunt.
My exertions had sobered me somewhat, more than enough that I now felt slightly embarrassed as my flaccid cock slipped from her opening. She lowered her legs, still panting as she regained her composure.
“Be a dear and go and get me some tissues,” I noted some of my cream beginning to seep from her slit as I got to my feet and went into the kitchen, returning with a roll of paper towel.
In my absence, she had taken the cushions from the couch and spread them on the floor in front of the fireplace, and I watched excitedly as she wiped herself, legs akimbo, before indicating them.
“Lie down, Alister, and get yourself comfy.” From my prone position, I looked up at my grandmother, her tits hanging down towards her belly and her labia still open and showing me her moist centre.
Spreading my legs, she got down between them and started stroking my shaft. The first stirrings of an erection were already evident. Pulling the skin back from its head, she lowered her face and instantly, I felt her lips and the warmth of her mouth as it enveloped my knob.
It was the best blowjob I’ve ever experienced; there’s a lot to be said, for age I suppose and before long I was standing proud again. Gran raised herself, straddling my hips as she fumbled between her legs and inserted my cock for a second time.
“Nice and slow this time, Alister; I want to watch you fuck me.”
Tentatively, she slid up and down my shaft, her huge mammaries swinging in front of my face. Now I have always been a breast man, and the sight of those two large orbs, both tipped by golden brown nipples, soon had my temperature soaring again. Taking my chance, I squeezed, twisted, and pulled at her magnificent mammaries, generally abusing them, as she delighted in the treatment that I meted out to her tits.
She groaned loudly; the language flowing from her lips was not something any grandchild should be subjected to, but I found that it intensified my excitement as she urged me onward.
“Fuck my cunt, that’s it. Shag your grandmother, Alister.” Her torrent of words spewed forth. “Oh, shit, your cock feels so big. Fuck me harder.”
Gripping her meaty arse, I held her aloft and raised my knees, giving me a better purchase. I started ramming my cock into her fanny, her body wobbling above me as she approached her climax. She called my name as I pushed her over the edge and felt her juices flood my groin, especially when I shot my hot cream into her sloppy cunt for a second time.
Eventually, we retired to her bed, spending what was left of the evening and part of the night fucking each other until we both fell asleep through sheer exhaustion.
Truth or Dare.
It was nearly four days before enough snow had been cleared to allow me to make my way home. In the time I had spent at my grandmother’s, we had fucked innumerable times every day, as she taught me new ways of satisfying a woman and how to last the course.
I was nearing twenty-one, and with very little sexual technique, I was no better than a virgin. Don’t get me wrong; I had put it about, but more or less, it was shoved in, wiggled about, and then pulled out, the act over once I had achieved satisfaction. By the time I left her house, I had learned how to make love properly and felt a lot more confident than I had previously about my performances.
I wondered what Gran had been like as a young woman, wishing I could have met her back then, in her prime. No wonder my grandfather had shuffled off his mortal coil several years earlier; she must have shagged him to death. In her sixties, she still had a healthy appetite for sex, which she displayed each day of my stay.
Even though some paths had been cleared, it still took me three times as long to reach home as my outward journey had done. I was greeted by my mother and twin sisters as a returning hero, all of them making a fuss for no apparent reason that I could see. Mother praised me for being a dutiful son and for looking after her mother in this time of hardship, but little did she realise that the only hardship I had suffered was managing to get it up enough to satisfy my grandmother’s insatiable appetite.
To the twins, I was the intrepid explorer. One who had braved the elements and had returned victorious after venturing across to the other side of the village in what was to become known as “The Great Snowfall.”
For me, it was a moment that changed my life. I’d had several girlfriends, but none that ever lasted more than a few months. I must admit that I was a bit of a feckless youth. Females were there to be ensnared and conquered, but once I had claimed their treasure trove, I quickly lost interest, looking for new prey.
Gran had been the first female that had ensnared me, and at that moment, I couldn’t wait to return and sample her wares once more. Perhaps it was her maturity, her ample bosom and body, or maybe the fact that I was sure she was a nympho.
The other change, which I began to notice slowly over the next few days, concerned my own family, but more on that later.
November turned into December, and the snow did not attempt to disappear anytime soon; small flurries each night tended to replace what the villagers had dug out the previous day. Mother must have had a premonition, as each day she sent us out to the local shops, stockpiling as much food as she could purchase.
As Christmas Eve approached, it was obvious that presents would be in short supply this year, but food-wise, there would be no problem. Unable to get out of the village for her office job, she had used her time wisely.
Now normally, Gran would spend Christmas at our house with mom either driving to pick her up or with her arriving by taxi. Because of the snowfall, no vehicles were moving in the area. except for the snowploughs that kept the main road at the edge of the village clear. Mum’s solution that year was to prepare two Christmas dinners, one for us and another for my grandmother, with ample food at both houses.
It was the twenty-third of December, and mom had gone across to grandma’s with all the prepared food that was to be deposited in her large chest freezer. Everyone was excited; Christmas day would soon be here, and in the lounge, the tree glittered with baubles and lights while trimmings and streamers ran around the walls.
I had accompanied my mother, carrying the many shopping bags, in the hope of managing to have a word with my grandmother. It had been several days since I’d last had a chance to get across to her house, and I was sure she was missing our sexual exploits as much as I was.
Mom had sent me back for a couple of extra items, and while I was only halfway home, the weather suddenly turned ominous. The sky had become a leaden grey, and the streetlights reflected on the first flakes of snow as they started to fall again.
I got home just in time as the sky opened and snow just seemed to keep coming. I waited for an hour and then two, hoping that the blizzard would pass, but to no avail; it looked like the storm was in for the evening. I called my mother, explaining the situation and asking what she wanted me to do.
To be honest, she didn’t seem to be bothered.
“Listen, Alister, the weather may be better tomorrow; if not, then you will have to manage; you are all old enough now. The meal for Christmas day is prepared; all you have to do is pop it in the oven and put the pans on. I’m sure you and the girls can do that. If you have any problems, ring me, but I should be home tomorrow. Take care, and I’ll see you later.” With that, the phone went dead as she hung up.
I explained to Gemma and Debbie what our mother had said, and just like her, they seemed unperturbed. I would go so far as to say that they were actually looking forward to the experience. Remember, they were with the daring explorer who had done this before, so what could possibly go wrong?
Christmas eve saw no change, and then it was here: Christmas day was upon us, and we would have to fend for ourselves. As it turned out, it was a breeze with the girls knowing exactly what to do, and by midday, the three of us sat down for Christmas lunch. Only later in the day did I look back and see where things had started down a path that I had not reckoned on.
Often, on these special occasions, our mother would allow the girls to have a glass of champagne with their meal and possibly another later in the afternoon. But today there was no parental guidance, no one to forbid it, and so we all went silly.
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