Summer Vacation With Stepgrandad by Stepgranddad

Summer Vacation With Stepgrandad by Stepgranddad

Explore a captivating tale of summer adventure in 'Summer Vacation with Stepgrandad.' Delve into a unique narrative that intertwines family dynamics and unexpected connections. Join the journey for a blend of excitement and intrigue this season.<br/>

I’m a 70 year old man married to my second wife who is 65. Before I get to the real heart of this story, I should tell you how we met and got together.

Both of us were married before, both widowed. We had lived with our departed spouses in the same Chicago high rise condominium. As couples we had been casually acquainted, seeing each other occasionally in the parking garage, the building lobby, or in summer, on the rooftop swimming pool deck. When my wife was killed in an auto accident, our children were all grown and graduated from college. My son had moved to the west coast, and my daughter had taken a job in Paris teaching English to French high school students. When Francine’s husband died after a stroke, Francine sold their three bedroom unit, and bought a one bedroom on a higher floor.

Francine posted a note on the lobby bulletin board, looking for help moving her belongings up the freight elevator to her new, smaller unit. I phoned her and volunteered to help out. After a couple weeks of moving furniture for three or four hours during the weekday evenings, and sharing dinners together in one of the many neighborhood restaurants, there was nothing left to move but her dining room table. As we both lay on the floor on our backs unfastening the bolts to remove the table top from its bulky base so it would fit into the freight elevator, she looked at me and asked, “How come you never touch me?”

The question took me completely by surprise, and I could only answer, “let’s get this upstairs first, then I’ll answer you.” We wrestled the table top and base onto the elevator, and dragged them into her new home. After we finished bolting the table back together, she said’ “well, what’s your answer?” “Well ….,” I hesitated, “I was just helping out. I never was looking for anything more than your friendship.” She giggled mischievously, and responded, “here’s a thank you kiss,” put her arms around me and squeezed me tight, kissing me on the lips. The tight squeeze and lingering kiss said a whole lot more than “thanks.”

Francine is a stocky woman five feet eight inches tall – far from chubby, but thicker in the waist than the ideal “hourglass” figure magazines portray. Nevertheless, she is fit as a fiddle, with a very pretty face and long dark hair she braids down her back all the way to her waistline. When she took a breath after that kiss, all I could do was whisper “Wow!” After we both sighed deeply, she kissed my mouth again, this time with her lips parted and her tongue darting between my teeth. I could hardly believe it at first, but as she lingered I began ardently kissing her back. I put my arms around her, and squeezed her tighter against my chest and hips. Her right hand slid below my waist and pulled my backside towards her.

The next time we took a breath, she gazed up into my eyes, her cheeks rosy with passion, and she spoke out loud, “I don’t want just friendship,” she said. “I want you to fuck me. Right now.”

Before I could respond, she had unbuttoned my denim shirt and run her fingernails lightly all the way down the center of my chest to my belt buckle. I answered wordlessly by untying the bow of her halter top behind her neck, and letting the lightweight cotton fabric drop around her waist, completely exposing her beautiful breasts and perky nipples. I put a thumb on each nipple and began rubbing gently in circles around and across them. Then she hooked her fingers inside the waistband of my jeans and pulled me towards her bedroom, where the bed was already made up with fine silk sheets, and turned down, awaiting us.

Francine unbuttoned her khakis and wriggled out of them. Her halter top dropped to the bedroom floor with her trousers. She was not wearing any panties, and stood there before naked in all her glory. I dropped my shirt and jeans to the floor, kicking off my tennis shoes with the pants. Francine dropped to her knees and began hungrily sucking my cock. In less than a minute, she had me fully erect. I lifted her onto the bed, and began returning the favor by pressing my tongue between her pussy lips and gently sucking on her clit. As soon as I felt her juices flowing, I pushed my tongue deeper inside her, licking her G spot while continuing to suck on her clit. I felt her begin to shudder, and grind her hips into my face. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

The contractions of her first orgasm surged through her lower body as I moved my mouth over her left nipple and sucked it hard. When I moved across to the right one, she caught her breath and moaned, “You have to fuck me now. Fuck me hard!”

I firmly pressed the head of my circumcised cock against her outer lips, and pushed it slowly and steadily inside her juicy cunt. She was as tight as anyone my age could ever hope the woman beneath him to be. As my balls touched against her bottom, she lifted her knees over my shoulders and raised her buttocks off the mattress. We kissed with our mouths wide open as I began slow, long strokes in and out of her cunt. “Faster, harder!” she whispered in my ear, and I complied. When I felt the shudders of her second orgasm starting to well up, I plunged so deep insider the head of my cock touched her cervix. “Give it all to me, darling,” she breathed, “Cum inside me, deep inside me.”

As I felt her muscular cunt walls beginning to milk my hard on, she groaned loudly when my ejaculation splashed against her cervix. I hadn’t cum that hard in years. Four more spasms of my own orgasm flooded her cunt with semen. As I gently lowered my body weight on top of her, she kissed my lips and told me, “My dead husband never fucked me like that.”

I rolled over and we lay beside each other naked on the silk sheets. She reached her right hand between her legs and pushed two fingers deep inside herself, gathering our mingled juices on her fingers. She put those fingers into her mouth and tasted the sticky mixture of my cum and her juices. “We taste delicious,” she ventured, and then put both fingers in my mouth. I had to agree with her. A turned my head towards her and saw the drowsy smile on her face. Before she dozed off completely, she put her arm around me and whispered “Don’t go. Please stay the night.” I nodded in agreement and we both fell fast asleep.

As the sun rose the next morning, I awoke to the sensation of her warm, wet lips tugging at my cock. As soon as I stirred beneath her, she straddled my shoulders and planted her cunt lips squarely over my mouth. “Eat me,” she whispered. “I want your cum for breakfast.” I began lustily licking her clit and fingering the sensitive place inside her pussy, while she ran her tongue up and down my shaft, lingering now and then on the most sensitive slit at the head of my cock. I held back my ejaculation until I felt her shuddering orgasm beginning deep in her belly, then released five huge spurts into her waiting mouth. She turned over to face me and show me her cum coated tongue before gulping down the entire load. “You’re amazin’, darlin’”, she whispered, as she walked towards her shower. “Have a great day, and never forget who fucks you the best!”

After several weeks of riding the building elevators between our units to fuck each other like teen agers, we decided to avoid the risk of scandal in the community of retired and semi-retired professionals occupying our building. I sold my unit, she sold hers, we got married by a judge, and moved to a four bedroom ranch home in a far out suburb, where we were accepted in the community as a respectable married couple. Little do they know.

Before I married Francine, I knew via the condo grapevine that she had a married 45 year old daughter, and a 14 year old granddaughter who lived in West Virginia. I had never seen or met either of them, though. After we moved to the suburbs, Francine told me her daughter, Caroline, was the only special education grammar school teacher in the county where she lived, and that her husband was an alcoholic, unemployed coal miner. Caroline was the sole support of herself, her husband and her daughter Kelley. Once Francine and I settled in our suburban ranch house, I friended Caroline and Kelley on social media.

Caroline worked as a special education teacher during the school year, and in the summers she served as principal for summer school programs for the junior high and high school students. Kelley attended summer classes every year. The only time they had to visit Francine was the two weeks between the end of the school year and the start of summer. I sent them both text messages that I was looking forward to meeting them once school was dismissed. Caroline responded with a message asking me if I could keep a secret from her mom. When I said yes, she wrote back saying that her husband’s drinking was getting worse, and she needed a couple hundred dollars to pay their water bill. I mailed her a check from my business account, and didn’t mention anything to Francine.

A month or so later, I got another message from Caroline that Kelley was going to need braces, starting in the fall, and it would cost $2,000.00. Her school district did not provide dental insurance for the family, and she didn’t know what to do. I deposited the money in an account at the local branch of Caroline’s bank, and sent her a debit card so she could take out cash to pay the orthodontist each month, without Kelley, her mom or her husband Robert being any the wiser.

Once school was out for the summer in West Virginia, Caroline and Kelley packed up their SUV and drove out for their annual 2 week visit. Caroline’s husband Robert didn’t want to make the trip. Apparently, he never did accompany them. They arrived late on a Saturday afternoon, and we all unpacked the SUV and moved each of them into her own bedroom in our new ranch house. After a dinner of corn on the cob and barbequed chicken on the patio grill, we went indoors before the mosquitoes came out, and talked about planning our activities during their visit. Kelley was all excited to visit the Renaissance Faire held on a big farm one county over, and ride the elephant and watch the knights jousting. Caroline said she needed a day to rest up from the long drive. Francine volunteered to take Kelley over to the Faire, and leave Caroline at home with me.