To the Last Drop

He decided not to knock and just opened the door to peek inside.

He saw Yvette and Grampa in the middle of the kitchen kissing like a pair of teenage lovers. He clearly heard their wet smacks, gasps and low moans. They stood thigh to thigh near the stove. Yvette had a spatula in her hand while the other fondled the lump growing in the old man’s pants and his hands hefted and lifted her heavy tits.

The children were in their high chairs at the table watching them wide-eyed and gurgling.

Yvette wore a flowery blue, knee-length maternity dress that left her arms bare and plunged deep at the throat revealing a deep cavernous cleavage. Her tits were so big they bulged out further than her belly, making her look dumpy in his eyes, but then he pictured her naked, bouncing on the old man’s lap, those big tits bouncing and swaying, spraying milk everywhere.

Sighing, he carefully closed the door, took a deep breath and knocked. He heard a short muttered conversation and the faint sound of a scraping chair. He waited what seemed like an hour but was probably only 30 seconds then knocked again.

“Come in,” said Grampa’s voice from inside.

When he opened the door and stepped in, Grampa sat at the kitchen table with a newspaper in his bony hands while Yvette’s stood at the stove with her back turned to him. He heard a steady hissing sizzle and the mouth-watering smell of frying chicken filled his nostrils.

Yvette’s large shapely ass and wide hips rolled mesmerizingly as she swayed to the music in her head.

For once, her long lustrous hair tucked behind her trim little ears, was brushed and shone with shining golden highlights.

She tossed her hair aside, glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him, but it wasn’t anywhere near the wide, glorious smile she’d once bestowed only upon him, the smile she now reserved for the hideous old man sitting at the table with a pair of reading glasses crouched low over his large, bulbous, broken-veined nose. The sweet, joyous smile she’d given the old man over her slim shoulder as he fucked her savagely from behind earlier that day.

“We’re celebrating,” she said happily. “I went to the doctor today and he asked if I wanted to know if we were having a boy or a girl.”

She stared at him, expecting a reaction, any reaction.

Tyler tried to smile, but images of her on her hands and knees while the old man used her big dangling tits to pull her to him played through his mind like a porno movie.

“I told him yes,” she said uncertainly, noting his tight smile.

She suddenly brightened and turned to face him fully.

“We’re having a boy,” she said, bouncing up and down on her toes excitedly, clapping her hands and letting out a shrill whoop of joy.

He smiled at her for real this time as her words echoed through his brain.

“They did a bunch of tests and he’s healthy and everything’s good in there.”

Her words flowed over him like warm water.

A boy! They were having a boy!

The old man hooted and hollered and the two children slammed their tiny palms on the table, giggling and screeching with joy at the adults’ reaction.

The smile turning wooden on his face, he wondered again if the baby swelling her belly was even his.

How could she cheat on him with such hideous old man, and with her own flesh and blood, he wondered to himself. As before, he felt himself harden at the memory of the two such opposite people coupling with such wild and unfiltered abandon.

After dinner, he and his wife walked silently back to their house through the oozing darkness, each with a sleeping child in their arms. The wind hissed through the grass, crickets chirped and far off cicadas screeched their song from the trees.

He turned and studied her silhouetted as they walked, her proud stance, her slender shapely limbs, her big round boobs, and her protruding pregnant belly. Even in shadow, she was beautiful.

He was surprised and confused at his reaction to seeing her having sex with the old man. He should’ve been angry or vengeful, but instead he was turned on and only wanted to see them going at it again.

The bigger problem was that as he’d watched, he’d seen a depth of feeling in their coupling that was beyond just casual sex. Even though she was married to him and bore him two children he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she wasn’t his anymore, his beautiful 18-year-old wife now belonged, heart, body and soul, to her great-great-grandfather.

What the fuck was he to do now, he wondered later as he lay in bed next to his wife, his eyes unfocused and his life in tatters.

Yvette also lay in bed staring at the ceiling, but her mind was worlds away. Her once limitless passion for the young man who lay on the bed next to her had cooled and faded and she no longer cared whether he desired her or not.

In this self-imposed exile of hers, where her husband wasn’t attracted to her anymore, where he showed distaste for her body, where he didn’t seem to even stand the sight of her, where she spent her days yearning for release, desperate for companionship, lonely for attention, Yvette found something with Grampa she couldn’t quite define.

The fact that it was incest and taboo, that it was wrong for her to feel that way, that he was 66 years older than her and hideously ugly only added to the wrongness, novelty and excitement of the wildly exciting relationship.

The knowledge that it was his baby growing inside her only added to the wrongness… and to her excitement.

She felt hot and her breasts were as heavy and full of milk as ever.

She looked forward to tomorrow, when Grampa would drain them once again.

To the last drop.