5 comments/ 54241 views/ 42 favorites Silver Fox Ch. 01 By: earlbrowder I'm ass-to-the grass on a heavy squat when I notice her in the gym's mirrored wall. She's probably pushing her mid- to late-fifties. Spiky salt-and-pepper hair. Cute little nose and green eyes. A nice figure beneath her shorts and tight spandex top - - apple-sized tits, well-defined thighs, and trim shoulders. I groan and my quads bulge as I raise 320 pounds of iron plates back into the rack. There are cougars. And then there are pumas. If she's hot and over fifty, she's a puma. While she hoists a pair of light barbells over her shoulders, this particular puma is giving me the sideways eye-fuck as I step out of the squat rack. I smile into the mirror, wipe the bar down with my towel, and start unloading the big round plates. I've been lifting since I was sixteen. True, I started hitting the gym to impress the ladies. But now, at twenty-two, I do it because it makes me feel good. Through my dad's death, dropping out of college, and multiple break-ups, lifting keeps me centered and steady. Better than therapy, as one of my gym buddies constantly opines. It's good therapy, sure. But, it does also help with the ladies. And, to be honest, my taste in ladies has changed a bit over the past couple of years. Not too long ago it was all tight, fresh-faced gym-bunnies and yoga instructors. These days, I've developed a taste for more mature pleasures. That's one good reason why, after clearing out the squat rack, I grab a pair of dumbbells and take a seat on the bench next to Mrs. Puma. (Yep, she's got a shiny band of gold on her finger.) She pretends to ignore me and keeps pumping her arms up and down, focusing on her own reflection in the mirror. I rest my dumbbells on my knees until I feel my heart rate settle back into the comfort zone. I glance at her mirrored reflection and she flashes me a quick look. She pauses. "Great form," I say to her reflection. She blinks, startled perhaps that I've noticed her. "Thanks," she answers with a little smile. I grin back at her. "When you push up," I say. "Try not to press the weights together." She raises her eyebrows. "You work the delts better when you push straight up." She looks confused. "Here," I say, standing up and moving behind her. "Can I show you?" She smiles a little unsteadily. "It's easy." I reach down to touch her elbows. "Okay," she says and raises her arms back up. "There you go." I place my palms under her elbows and guide her arms upward. "Keep them separated." She smiles at me again as the dumbbells rise over her shoulders. "And, lower them nice and slow. Excellent." Her upper arms press down against my hands as I add a little more resistance to her eccentric contraction. "Very nice," I say, leaning down and lowering my voice. "By the way." I'm almost whispering in her ear now. "You are in beautiful shape." She's flustered by my compliment, smiling and turning her eyes away from me at the same time. "Keep going." I encourage her by nudging her arms back up. "Let's do some more reps." When she finishes her shoulder presses, I compliment her some more and we trade names. "Pleased to meet you, Vince," she says. "I'm Naomi." "Pleasure is all mine Naomi," I answer. "How about some water?" She nods and I pass her the pink water bottle next to the bench. We chat. I like her laugh - - it's deep and throaty. I also like the way she begins to tap me on the shoulder as I tease her about putting all the younger girls in the gym to shame. She asks me if I can help her with her lateral raises and I stand behind her as she raises a set of dumbbells up from her hips. By the time she's done working her shoulders, we've agreed that we should have coffee. She suggests a place over on Howard Street and I offer to drive. After showering and changing, we meet in front of the gym's reception desk. My hungry eyes devour her petite body and the promises made by her tight shorts and clingy blouse. When I pull in front of the coffee shop, I turn and rest my hand on her bare knee. We look into each others' eyes and she blushes. I lean toward her and we kiss. She seems hesitant at first but then, with a deep sigh, she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my lips hard against her mouth. When we break our kiss, we're both panting. Wordlessly, I turn the key in the ignition and pull back out onto the street. "Where are you going?" She says breathlessly. I leer at her. "My place. It's just over on Jackson. I make great coffee." "Oh my god," she practically squeals and throws her head back. "I don't believe this." I chuckle and steer the car to my apartment. I open the car door for her and she steps out, looking up and down the street warily. "Come on," I say, sweeping my hand toward the door to my second-floor walkup. "It's just coffee." She rolls her eyes and I follow her up the walk. I climb the stairs behind her and watch her curvy ass roll back and forth. Inside the apartment, she stands uncomfortably in the middle of the living room. I toss my gym bag on the couch and walk toward her, tugging my sleeveless t-shirt over my neck. "Oh my god," she whispers. "What am I doing?" I smile and slide and my arms around her waist. "Doing what comes naturally," I say as I lean down to kiss her. We kiss, tenderly at first and then crazy and sloppy. I pick her up in my arms and carry her into the bedroom with our lips mouths still glued together. I lower her to the bed and yank her shorts and panties down over her knees. "Oh my lord," she whispers. I slide my face between her thighs and she's already wet. I grunt with happiness and start licking and nibbling her velvety lips. Her knees rise and I feel her hands pushing my head tighter between her thighs. Wrapping my hands around her thighs and squeezing, I gobble up her clit between my lips. Naomi is noisy. She grunts and groans and gasps as I lap at her. I reach down and push my shorts off my hips and my cock bounces free. I lick my way up her stomach and she pulls her blouse off her shoulders and yanks her sports bra down to offer me her nipples. While I munch on one big strawberry and then the other, I reach down and guide my cock into her warm, wet cunt. With a shove of my hips, I drive deep into her. I attach my mouth to hers and, as our tongues wrestle together as we fuck hard and fast. The headboard knocks against the wall and the bed hops up and down on the floor. Naomi smacks me on the shoulders with her palms and I bury my lips into her neck. She yelps once or twice and I can feel her body tremble. My cock grows thicker and heavier. Our sweaty and slick bodies slide together and I drive my hips forward. My cock explodes deep inside her. She half-sighs half-groans and sinks her fingers into my muscled shoulders. Later, after cuddling in my arms, she licks and sucks my cock back to attention. We fuck again, slower and more sensually, our fingers and lips and tongues exploring each other. I come even while she's still twisting her hips furiously against my cock. She lies naked on top of me and we doze. When I wake up, she's gone. But, there's a note on my nightstand. I need some help with my curls, it reads in long, spidery letters. Wed. at 10 a.m. Naomi. She's written her cell number beneath her signature. It's Monday. I roll over and catch some extra z's before I head to my job on the loading docks at Orange Freight. Life goes on. I eat. I sleep. I work out. I put my hours in at Orange. Early Wednesday morning, I text Naomi. Ready for your appointment. Jackson Street gym. Your personal trainer. If Mr. Naomi snoops, he'll find this a lot less shocking than what I really want to text. Which is: I'm hard. Get your horny ass over here. At 9:30, my doorbell rings. I wrap a towel around my waist and pull the door open. Naomi is standing there with a smile, dressed in black training pants and a sleeveless pink t-shirt. She brushes past me and I shut the door. I drop my towel to the floor as I enter the living room. Naomi raises her hand to her mouth and I spread my feet and push my hips forward, pointing my fat, hard cock at her. "You're early," I say, sliding my hand up and down my cock. "Ready to warm up?" She nods and walks toward me. We kiss and I lay my free hand on her shoulder and gently push her down. She drops to her knees and presses her warm tongue against my cock. "Suck it," I whisper, pushing my hands into her thick, short hair. "Taste it." She does some heavy sets of cocksucking for a while and then we switch up to more aerobic exercise - - fucking. Amongst other things, I discover that Naomi turns beet red from head to toe when she orgasms. She returns on Friday morning. And, after fucking like demons, we cuddle together on the bed. I'm siting against the headboard and she's lying against me, her hips between my thighs and her back to my chest. My arm is draped across her tits and she lazily sketches something on my forearm. "You know, lover," she says. "I shouldn't be greedy." "What?" I murmur. "Greedy?" She smiles. "Uh huh. Greedy. I mean I don't own you. Right?" I laugh. "Hardly," I answer. "But not for lack of effort." She smacks my forearm. She pauses and then continues. "I could share you. I think I could." I kiss her hair. "You mean like a threesome?" She taps my forearm again. "No, silly. Not like a threesome." She twists between my legs until her torso is turned toward me. She rests her little hands on my chest and her bright green eyes peer up into mine . "What if I had a friend?" I smirk. "I bet you've got plenty of friends." She pecks me on the chin. "I do," she says. "But what if I had a special friend." "What if you did?" She slips a leg over my left thigh, rests her damp crotch on my thigh, and leans her cheek against my chest. Her hand strokes my shoulder. "What I mean is . . ." She pauses as if reflecting. "You make me feel so good." I run my hand along her shoulder. "What if I had a friend who really needs to feel good?" She looks up at me. "A really nice friend." I laugh and cup her chin in my hand. "So, you're pimping me out now?" She kisses my neck and slides her hand along my abs until she's grasping my cock. She squeezes me. "Maybe," she says. "But she is a really nice friend." I shift my hips as my cock hardens beneath her busy fingers. "Nice, how?" She bends her head to my chest and continues stroking my cock. "Sweet. Pretty. And lonely. Desperately lonely." I murmur, enjoying her tiny, delicate hand as it massages my dick. "How pretty? Pretty like you?" She kisses my chin. "Prettier." "Hornier?" I ask. She laughs and squeezes my cock hard. "Maybe." "Dirtier?" "Probably." She releases my cock and takes my hand in hers, lacing our fingers together. She rises on her knees, and shifts onto my lap. I slide my fingers along her pussy. "Possibly," she teases. "But you'll have to find out." I laugh. "Okay. You're very persuasive." My finger slips into her pussy. "So," she purrs. "You agree?" "Sure," I say, raising my free hand to her breast and playing with her nipple. Naomi takes a sharp breath and raises her hips higher. "Perfect," she mumbles. "I'll text you the details." "My people will get together with your people," I reply before pushing my lips onto hers. Her soft hand returns to my hard dock. We masturbate each other until we cum and then shower together before Naomi leaves for a dinner date with Mr. Naomi. On Sunday, I'm watching a football game on TV when my phone chirps. I've got a text. I pick up the phone from the table. Matchmaker, matchmaker. It's from Naomi. Details? I tap into the phone and toss it back on the table. My team loses and I make dinner. As I'm eating, the phone chirps again. I finish my pasta and tuna and pick it back up. Naomi again. Rizzoli's. Monday. 7 p.m. Dress nice. Look for white dress and hot legs. Naomi even knows my work schedule. Monday is one of my nights off. I laugh. Pimp Mommy, I text back. Still laughing, I head off to bed. At this point, there are probably a few extra things you should know about me. I live in a small in upstate New York. I grew up here. My whole family still lives in town though we hardly visit or call each other. My dad passed away around the time I turned eighteen. My mom lives with her mom and my sister in the old house over on the west side. My dad's family comes from the better side of town and I haven't seen or heard from them since the funeral. I went to school here, and most of my friends still live on the west side. Given my work hours and my devotion to the gym, we rarely see each other. I guess if I could leave, I would. But I'm too lazy and life is too easy. Rizzzoli's is one of two Italian restaurants in the area, and definitely the more upscale one. It's located in a little town about six miles up the highway. I've only eaten there once and that was because a friend waited tables during our high school days. A dinner date at Rizzoli's is about as elegant as you can get in my world. As I drift off to sleep after Naomi's text, I grin to myself. Pumas like to eat well. Monday rolls around. After my morning workout, I head back home and resist the urge to take my usual pre-night-shift nap. Instead, I head out to Graber's, the local men's store, and buy a new tie. I polish my shoes. I brush off my jacket and iron my shirt. I shave and shower, read some crazy book about hippies in Los Angeles, and then get dressed. I drive north to Rizzoli's around 6:30 p.m. and end up in a freak traffic jam. Some farmer has tried to rush his truckload of hay back to the farm too quickly and I wait impatiently until the local state trooper waves my car past the scene of the crime. I wave to him and check my watch. 7:00 on the dot. Let's hope Mrs. Puma has patience and a nice rack. I pull into Rizzoli's parking lot ten minutes later, check my tie, and bolt out of the car and through the big oak door that guards the dining room. It's crowded tonight and soft conversation bubbles up around me from the dimly lit-tables. The guy at the podium glances at me. "I'm here to meet someone," I say and he nods at me. I scan the tables. No white dress, though there are a few decent sets of wheels. Then I turn to the bar. Bald dude. Dude in rugby shirt and jeans. Young lady trying to imitate Charlie's smartest angel - - Jaclyn Smith. Empty stool. Bingo. She sits with her back to me, long, lustrous silver hair cascading down over a sleeveless white dress. A little thick-waisted but her arms are toned and tanned. Naomi was right. Long shapely calves and narrow, delicate little ankles. I straighten my tie and push past the other stool-sitters. I pause and tap her gently on the shoulder. "Is this seat taken?" The words are barely out of my mouth when she turns to me. My body freezes as my jaw drops. Her eyes pop open in surprise and she almost drops the glass of scotch in her hand. "Ohhhh," I mutter, backpedaling into the low counter that divides the bar from the restaurant. "Sorry." She scans me up and down and deliberately returns her scotch to the bar. A tight smile spreads across her face. "I knew it," she says, clapping her hands together. "I just knew it." It's my grandmother. My dad's mother. I haven't seen her in almost five years. She pushes a strand of platinum hair away from her dark eyes with a flick of her long, perfectly manicured nails. Even back then, I recognized her elegance, especially compared to my side of the family. Mom and her mom are sweet and frumpy. Always eager to welcome relatives and friends. Always busy in the kitchen. Usually decked out in sweatpants or baggy jeans. Dad's mom was stylish and aloof, rarely gracing myself or my sister with more than a quick peck on the cheek and a cold smile. Besides her dark brown eyes, the thing I most remembered about her was her perfume - - a sweet and rich vapor that always drifted around her. She's wearing it tonight. Her smile broadens and the corners of her eyes and her mouth crinkle into a network of fine wrinkles. I'm doing the math in my head. She's at least sixty years-old. I blush. "Grandma", I whisper. "You know Naomi?" She chuckles and waves a hand in front of her nose. "Do I know Naomi? Good god, Vince. We're best friends. And please." Her eyes shift up the bar. "Call me Tamara, not that other word." I swallow. "There must be some mistake," I say. "I'm so sorry." She laughs again and grabs my forearm as if to steady herself. "Oh my god," she guffaws. "Good lord, sit down." She tugs me onto a stool, her hand squeezing my forearm now. She waves to the bartender. "Two more scotches," she says as he approaches. She takes a deep breath and releases my arm. "I knew it," she repeats. "When Naomi told me all about her beautiful Adonis. And that his name was Vince." She smiles and smacks me on the knee. "I remember how you looked at eighteen. And now, look at you!" The bartender slides the drinks in front of us and grandma raises a glass to her lips and swallows half the scotch. I sip my drink. Exactly how much does she know about me and her best friend? I smile. "Naomi told you I trained her at the gym?" Grandma almost chokes on her drink. She raises her fingers to her lips and bends forward. "Is that what you call it?" She says when she recovers. "Training?" She gulps some more scotch. "That old slut." Now it's my turn to gulp some scotch and the amber liquid burns its way down my throat. Grandma leans her head toward mine. "She says you've made her a new woman. Have you?" I blush and swallow more scotch. "She enjoys training," I answer and grandma almost chokes again. "Drink up," she says as she raises two fingers into the air. Another pair of liquor-filled glasses appears in front of us. Grandma rests her hand on my arm. "I am sorry," she says suddenly. "Sorry that we haven't kept in better touch since your father . . ." I nod. "It's okay. Really it's my fault. I've been busy." She pats my arm and downs another scotch. "Oh my god," she whispers to me. "Hell of a blind date, eh?" I smile uneasily and she pats my knee. "Well," she continues. "I'm out of the house and away from Mr. Couchsurfer. Let's get some dinner." To be honest, I'm about as confused as a cat in a dog kennel. Blind date? Grandmother? I nod my head despite my confusion and stand. Grandma stands next to me, swaying slightly on her heels. She drops her hand on my bicep and steadies herself. "Lead me on, Adonis," she snickers. We make our way toward the guy at the podium. He clocks our approach and sweeps his arm to the left, toward a tiny table in a dark corner of the restaurant. We follow him and sit. The scotch keeps coming and, at some point, so does our food. Grandma picks at hers but I focus on mine, hoping to end my blind date as quickly as possible. I tell her what I've been doing for the past five years - - which takes all of three minutes. She asks about mom and my sister. We talk about my dad. And, then things get quiet. I look at her. Really study her. Big, dark brown eyes and her thin, aristocratic nose. Her wide lips, glistening red with lipstick. Her long, slender fingers. The top of her white, silk dress ends in a smooth band that circles her neck. I peek downward. Her breasts are full and taut against the fabric of the dress. She swivels on her seat and crosses her legs. My eyes drop to her fantastic calves - - arched and firm - -and then up to her bare knees. Something burns and wiggles in my groin. She swings one of her white pumps back and forth. When my eyes rise to her face, she smiles. "Well." She leans toward me and whispers. "Do you like them?" I almost choke. Some kind of strange, garbled words exit my mouth. Silver Fox Ch. 01 She leans back and laughs. "It's fine," she says as she settles back in her chair, whisking her legs under the table. "It's good to admire a woman's legs, no matter whom they belong to." Time for another gulp of scotch. The busboy clears the table. Grandma spreads her hands on the white tablecloth in front of her and smooths it slowly and purposefully. "Vince," she says. "I hardly ever get out of the house. Your grandfather would rather watch History Channel than take his wife out. And . . ." She reaches across the table and rests her hand on my wrist. "I'm so enjoying our time together." She shakes her long, lustrous silver hair. "Must we call it a night so soon?" I stutter something about an early morning workout. "There, there." Grandma pats and rubs the back of my hand. "I'll get you home before dawn." She laughs and finishes the glass of scotch in front of her. "Seriously," she continues. "Couldn't we just enjoy our time together a little bit longer?" I tug at the collar of my shirt. "Sure," I say, finally. "I'd love to." Grandma beams and claps her hands together quietly. "Goodie," she exclaims. She hesitates for a moment and returns her hand to my wrist. "I wonder," she says in a hushed voice. "I'm so curious." I nod dumbly. She prods me with her eyes. "Uh . . . yeah." I say. "Curious about what?" "Well," she answers and rests her hands on the tablecloth. "I know you were so . . . enthusiastic . . .about exercise when you were younger. And, Naomi tells me you've developed into quite an extraordinary young man." There's no more scotch in my glass but I raise it to my lips anyway. My face is burning. "Yes," I say. "Okay." "Well." She draws out the word. "I'd love to see how all that hard work and determination have paid off." I nod. "You mean you'd like to come to the gym sometime?" She titters and squeezes her fingers around my wrist. "Oh, yes. Of course. I'd love to. But." She hesitates again and looks down at the table for a moment. "Since we're here. No thanks to Naomi." She raises her gleaming eyes to mine. "Perhaps you could show me tonight?" I have no idea what she's talking about so I stare dumbly at her, a weak grin pasted to my face. "I mean." She squeezes my wrist again. "Perhaps you could show me tonight. Show me what a big boy you've become." The scotch has obviously worked its way deep into my brain because I nod stupidly. "Sure," I say. "Why not?" Grandma releases my hand and exhales deeply. "Whew," she says. "I thought I'd never get that out." She smiles at me and raises her hand for the check while simultaneously grabbing her small, glittering purse. The waiter deposits the check on the table, grandma flips a credit card onto it, and the waiter whisks the check and the plastic away. By the time he returns, we're standing next to the table. Grandma scribbles something on the check and turns to me. "Shall we?" She says, pointing her chin toward the door. I follow her through the almost-deserted restaurant. My eyes are fastened on her long legs and her wide ass as it rolls beneath her dress. I can feel my cock stir. What is wrong with me? I shake my head as the maître d' opens the door for us. I stumble into the cool night air. Grandma pauses and raises her finger, sarcastically, to her lips. "Hmmmm," she says. "Let's take my car." She laughs and pulls a key fob from her purse. Somewhere in the parking lot, a car beeps. As I toddle forward, grandma loops her arm in mine and we stagger together across the lot. She's giggling when she pulls the door of her Cadillac CTS open. "Go on, honey," she slurs. "Hop in." I pull the door open and drop into the seat. With a little whoop, she slides into the drivers seat and turns the ignition. The Caddy rolls onto the highway. "Hey," I say. "Wrong way. Parkerville is back that way!" Grandma smiles and reaches over to slap at my leg. "Of course it is, silly." I relax into the smooth leather seat. My head is starting to spin a little but the scotch is also making me feel warm and relaxed. We drive for ten or fifteen minutes until a bright neon sign looms ahead of us on the highway. Grandma flicks on her blinker, checks the rear view mirror, and pulls into the Lakeside Motel. She parks in front of a long row of single-story motel rooms. I look at her. "Here," she says, digging into her purse and thrusting a wad of bills at me. "Go get the room." I stare at the money and laugh at the absurdity of it. Five minutes later, I've paid the bald, fat guy at the front desk and I'm swaying back toward the car. I examine the numbers on the room until I get to 16. As I insert the key, I hear the car door open and close and then the sound of grandma's heels on the parking lot gravel. I push the door open and stumble inside. Grandma follows behind me. The door closes and a lamp clicks on. "Oh my," she sighs, dropping her purse onto the table between two chairs at the front of the room. "I wasn't sure I could make it. The road was shaking so much." We look at each other and start giggling. Pretty soon, we're choking with laughter and grandma totters on her heels towards me. She clutches my shoulder just as she's about to slip and fall. We're still laughing when she pushes herself away from me and falls into one of the motel room chairs. As her laughter fades away, she takes a deep breath and beams up at me. "Well," she says. "Let's get to it. Good enough for Naomi, good enough for me!" She cackles. I stand between grandma and the bed, shaking with laughter. "A show," I huff. "Is that what I'm doing?" Grandma claps her hands together. "Oh my god, yes! A show! My own personal muscle boy show!" Her cheeks are flushed and her chest is heaving. I look around. "We'll need some music," I say and lean over to turn on the radio next to the bed. A soft jazz tune flows from the tiny, black receiver. "Perfect," I mumble and turn back to grandma. "Ready?" She settles her hands onto her thighs and whips her head up and down. Her long hair falls in front of her face and she starts giggling again. I pull my sport coat off and throw it behind me. I'm drunk. Very drunk. And, for some reason, way back in the last part of my brain that still functions reasonably, I'm already making excuses. Grandma brushes the hair out of her eyes and claps. "Bravo, Adonis," she mumbles. "Bravo!" I yank my tie down and throw it onto my jacket. I slowly start to unbutton my shirt, rolling my hips back and forth in a parody of a stripper. Grandma guffaws and smacks her hands on her thighs. I peel my shirt away from my body and grandma stops laughing. Her eyes are fixed on my torso and I see her swallow. I tug my shirt off and begin posing. Flexing my biceps, hunching my chest, lacing my fingers behind my head and rolling my abs. A blush begins to creep up grandma's cheek. She is quiet and transfixed. I'm grinning like a fool. I've lost track of everything. I unbuckle my belt, pull it free, and snap it in my hands. Grandma shifts in her chair and leans back. Her massive bosom is heaving up and down. I throw the belt away and begin to unbuckle my pants. I slide them over my hips and they drop to the floor. I step out of them and gyrate my hips. "Oh my lord," grandma whispers to herself. Her hands are clenching and unclenching her dress across her thighs. I waggle my hips back and forth, feeling my dick swing beneath my boxers. The music shifts to something slower and I close my eyes, swaying to the smooth jazz. A warm hand slides across my abs. "You like it," I mumble, eyes still pressed shut. Two soft hands glide up my abs to my pecs. I open my eyes. Grandma is staring at me with her hands on my chest. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are wide. "Come on," I say drunkenly. "It takes two to tango." I reach for her and grab her around the waist and she collapses against my chest. We sway together. I can hear grandma breathing faster. I slide my hands up her back and gently tug the zipper on her dress downward. Her body stiffens. I open my eyes and gaze at her. She looks beautiful - - her lips parted and her eyes glowing. I lean my lips to her ear and drink in her perfume. "This is what Naomi likes," I whisper. "She likes it a lot." A little choking sound escapes grandma's lips and she melts back into my arms. I pull the zipper of her dress down to her waist and slide my hands along her shoulders. The silky dress collapses to the floor. Beneath the dress, grandma's sheer white bra holds up two big, fleshy breasts. She wears a matching pair of panties that stretch tight across her hips. I drop my hands to her hips and pull her tighter against me. "Kiss me, grandma," I whisper into her ear. "I want to taste you." I feel her tremble and she squeezes my chest with her fingers. "I . . .I . . ." She tries to say something as I press my lips to hers. Her lips press together and then slowly open. Our mouths push hard against each other and I unwind my tongue into her mouth. She groans and slides her arms around my neck, squeezing herself against me. I spread my hands across her ass and squash her hips against mine. We kiss and kiss. And then, as I try to gracefully twist around onto the bed, I trip over my pants and flop onto the bedspread. Grandma lands on top of me and we start giggling. She raises her head and looks into my eyes. Her smile dissolves and she returns her lips and tongue to my mouth. Her long, soft hair cascades around my face. We're still kissing . . . when I fall asleep. I wake in the motel room when sunlight peeks through a gap in the curtained window and lands on my eyes. I blink, uncertain where I am. I turn my head. Grandma is sleeping next to me. We're both under the covers and my boxers have disappeared. My mouth is dry but my head feels fine. I rub my eyes. As usual, I'm sporting morning wood. Next to me, Grandma lies on her side, the covers rising over the swell of her hips. She's still wearing her bra. My cock is painfully swollen. I'm just about to slide out of bed when she stirs. She pushes her panty-clad ass against my hip and sighs. I study the smooth, pale skin of her shoulder and her long hair. My cock feels like a chunk of concrete between my legs. I blink again and slowly settle in next to Grandma, rolling onto my side so that my hard cock nestles against her panties. She sighs sleepily and I press my cock against her ass. She mumbles something and scrunches her ass against my cock. I snake an arm over her and slowly, tentatively run my hand across the top of her big tits. Her pale skin is soft and warm. I gently squeeze her massive breast and she parts her lips. She's not sleeping. I brush my lips across her neck and she shifts her hips. I kiss her neck and her eyes flutter open. "Vince," she croaks. The wrinkles around her mouth and her eyes are clearer and deeper in the dim morning light. I take an earlobe between my lips and nibble it. I can still smell her perfume. Her hands clutch the edge of the bed sheets in front of her chest. Her eyes are open now and she's staring at the wall opposite the bed. I can't tell if she's afraid or just unsure. I reach across her breasts and grab her wrist. Her arm hangs loosely in my grip and I slowly drag it under the covers and onto my cock. I press her fingers against my raging hard-on and then curl my hand over hers. I squeeze and she gasps. I kiss her neck and release her wrist. Her fingers clutch my cock. "You're making me so hard," I whisper in her ear. She licks her lips in response and tugs at my cock. I push her hair behind her ear and run my lips along the rim of her ear. She sighs. "You're so beautiful," I whisper to her. "So hot and sexy. I love your skin." I flick my tongue along her jaw bone and kiss her cheek. "You taste so good." Her hand is massaging my cock now, mashing it in her fingers and pulling on it. I groan and slide my hand between her breast and her bra cup. I squeeze gently and continue kissing her neck. I flex my hips softly and her hips respond. She releases my cock and rubs her hand up and down its swollen shaft as our bodies start to rock together. She opens her mouth and breathes in and out more and more rapidly. "Vince," she mutters, licking her lips. "Oh, Vince." I reach beneath the covers and slide my hand under her panties. She screws her eyes shut and raises herself as I push her panties over her hip and then down along her thick, firm thigh. She flexes her knee to slide them off her foot and I run my hand between her thighs. She jerks her head up and gasps. "Not yet," I whisper. "We haven't even started the good part." Her lips press in a tight smile and she whimpers. I run my finger along her pussy lips, pressing firmly, and her thighs part wider. As I plunge a finger into her warm, wet cave, her hips jerk back against me. She arches her neck. Her hand drops from my swollen cock. "Yes," she hisses softly, her eyes still squeezed shut. "That's good." I slide another finger inside and our hips pump together more forcefully. The sheets are rustling on the bed. "I need to be inside you," I whisper. "I want to be inside you." She nods quickly. Her cheeks are bright red and she offers me a half-smile. I gently pull her shoulder toward the bed and slide on top of her. Her eyes are still shut and her arms hang along her sides, motionless. I part her legs with my knees and move my hips to rub my cock up and down her pussy. She twists her head to her left. I pull my hips back and drop the tip of my cock to her entrance. She trembles and I push my hips forward. My cock parts her moist lips and slowly, ever so slowly, sinks inside her. The walls of her damp cunt spread around my cock. I push and she hikes her knees up and spreads them wider. I'm inside her almost to my pubes. I stop, groaning as her slick pussy embraces of my hard, thick cock. I don't think my dick has ever felt so good, suspended deep inside grandma's pussy, but I grunt and begin to slowly drive my cock in and of out of her. Her eyes fly open and meet mine. She opens her mouth and her nervous expression dissolves into joy. She looks into my eyes and grasps my shoulders in her hands. Her eyes widen as I rock back and forth, bouncing her body up and down on the bed. A moan bubbles up her throat and she squeezes my shoulder and begins to rock her hips upward to meet my cock. Our bodies twist together on the hard mattress and she hikes her ankles onto my hips. I arch my neck and keep fucking her. Grandma slaps her heels against my ass faster and faster, urging me on. "God damn," I wheeze through gritted teeth. "You feel so fucking good." I unclench my jaw and look down at her. Her eyes drill into mine. "Your pussy feels so good on my cock. Like silk." She rolls her eyes and tightens her legs around my hips. We are moving in perfect rhythm, my hips driving her as she thursts upward. She opens her mouth wide in a silent moan and then claws my shoulders. Her hips shake and she loops her arms around my neck, suddenly yanking my face down to hers. "Fuck me." Her lips brush against mine as she murmurs. I can taste last night's scotch. "Fuck me hard, baby. Fuck me hard." I mash my lips onto hers and our wet lips gnaw against each other. I'm ready to explode. I push deep inside her and stop. It sounds like she's trying to shout against my mouth as my swollen cock bursts, jetting one torrent after another into her pussy. I clamp my hips tight against her and her full, luscious body shivers and shakes. She squeezes her arms around my neck and drives her tongue deep into my mouth. My body shudders and I'm done. I pull my mouth off Grandma's and inhale deep into my chest. She rubs her hands along my cheeks and smiles. Our hips are still glued together until my deflated cock slides out of her. She gulps a chestful of air and rolls her head to the side. Smiling, I flop next to her and we lie together panting on the rough sheets. She rolls onto her stomach and rests her head on my chest. Her long hair tickles my skin. I can feel her bra-encased tits heaving up and down against my body. Our breathing slows in time together and I relax and lace my hands behind my head. Her face is still turned away from me but her fingertips crawl up and down my torso. I reach down and drag her upward. As she settles down on me, I pull her higher and she raises her head. I smile and stroke her hair with my hands. She smiles back and leans down to kiss me. "That was wonderful," I say. "That was beautiful." She kisses me again and then studies my eyes. She runs her fingers along my forehead and down along my jaw. We kiss again and she slumps her head onto my shoulder. "Wow," she whispers. "It's been a long time since that's happened." I rub her back and she mumbles with pleasure. We lie together for ten or fifteen minutes before I push her off me. I jump off the bed and lope to the bathroom. I pee and flush the toilet. When I return to the bedroom, she's curled up on her side. I slide onto the bed behind her and stroke her hips. She turns to me. "You're a bad boy," she whispers huskily. "Look what you made me do." I laugh. "I'm only as bad as you need me to be." She giggles and throws her leg over my waist and sits on top of me. "God," she says, reaching around her back. "This thing is killing me." Her bra snaps open and falls onto my belly. Her magnificent breasts drop onto her chest. They're soft and full and capped with big, thick nipples. They seem to glow in the sunlight falling through the curtains. "Well," she purrs, shaking them back and forth. Her tits wobble across her chest. "Do you like them?" I growl and grab a floppy, full breast in each hand, squeezing and flicking my thumb across her nipples. She laughs and covers my hands with hers, squashing my palms hard onto her full, soft tits. She shakes her crotch against my cock and I start to harden. "You like them," she says, leering at me as I continue to squeeze and massage and pinch. "I can tell." "I love them," I say as I rise up from my waist and attach my mouth to a thick, pink nipple. I suck and chew on one tit and then the other, back and forth hungrily, and grandma grinds her pussy against my cock. Soon, I'm ready once again. She reaches between her legs, raises her ass, and stuffs my cock into her pussy. She hops up and down on my cock as I devour her nipples - - flicking them with the tip of my tongue, lapping them, sucking them. My hips are locking into rhythm with hers when she suddenly groans and mashes my head hard into her tits. Her hips slam downward and she jerks them back and forth and I come again, my hips arching upward and driving my cock deeper into her pussy. She collapses onto me and sighs. We don't leave the Lakeside Motel until late afternoon. I sit, exhausted and silent, in the passenger seat of the Cadillac. Grandma concentrates on the road. She looks tired too. But, also radiant. Her skin glows and she tilts her chin proudly above the steering wheel. We pull into Rizzoli's parking lot and slow next to my car. "Well, Vince," she says, turning to me. "I guess that was a pretty good blind date. Don't you think?" I laugh and lean over the console to kiss her. She's smiling as our lips meet. "One for the record books," I say. "Either way." She squeezes my chin in her long fingers. "Now, you know your old granny is going to need to see you again. And soon." I brush her long hair with my hand. "Naomi has my number," I mutter through fish lips. She shrieks and tries to smack me but I duck and push the car door open. I lean back into the car. "I love you grandma," I say. "Oh my god." She takes a deep breath. "I love you too, baby. So much." I slam the car door shut and wave as her Cadillac squeals out of the parking lot. Wow, I think to myself. What the fuck just happened to me? Silver Fox Ch. 01 I drive slowly back to Parkerville as grandma's scent fades from my nostrils and the taste of her smooth, warm flesh ebbs from my lips and tongue. I'm a sick motherfucker, I think. A sick grandmotherfucker. When I say those words, my stomach rolls. Well, I was drunk. On the other hand, I wasn't drunk in the morning. "Still," I whisper into the car, my horniness after a good sleep is a chronic, well-known problem. Some nights, when I wake up for my shift at Orange, I have to jerk off twice before I can even think about pulling on my clothes. My brain throws the hard, awful truth back at me - - that was your grandmother. Whether it's the booze or the lack of food, my stomach feels queasy and my temples start to throb. Silver Fox Ch. 02 After my night and morning with Grandma, I'm so freaked out that I decide not to deal with it. The sex was hot, super hot, but all these ugly thoughts about what it means or might mean make me grimace. That afternoon, I grab a quick shower, cook up a meal, and head off to work. Eight hours later, as the sun rises on another day, I arrive at my apartment and flop into bed. I fall asleep instantly. When I wake in the early afternoon and check my phone on the way to the kitchen Grandma has left a text. Need to see you, baby. Tomorrow? She must have texted me while I was sleeping. I ignore it and make some breakfast. Later I hit the gym for a grueling workout. When I return from work on the docks the next morning, there's another text. I need you. Please. I gulp and put my hand on my stomach. I have to resist. There's no way I can handle this. I throw the phone on the coffee table in the living room and stumble into bed. Another text greets me when I wake. Answer me. Please, baby. Please. Two hours later: Don't. Please. I love you. I press the phone's power button and it cycles off. Lunch, gym, errands, and I'm back on the docks under the sodium lamps with my buddies from Orange Freight. There are no more texts in the morning. I'm staring to feel normal as I head home, strip down to my boxers, and climb into bed. The doorbell wakes me. The clock next to the bed tells me it's a little past noon. I've been asleep for a little more than four hours. The doorbell keeps chiming. I rub my eyes and roll out of bed. My brain starts buzzing as I realize who my visitor must be. I open the door and grandma is standing on my welcome mat. She's wearing a short, tight black skirt, an ivory-colored silk blouse, and heels. A thin black sweater is buttoned over her swelling blouse and a long string of pearls loops down across her generous bust. She smiles at me and runs her eyes up and down my body. "Can we talk?" She asks as she approaches the door. "Sure," I mumble and shut the door behind her. She stands in the middle of the living room and does a slow 360. "It's small," she says to me, smiling. "But tidy." I nod and head to the fridge to grab some orange juice. I'm only wearing my boxers and a tank. Grandma perches on a stool at the kitchen counter, her heels planted on the floor and her sexy calves flexed to keep her upright. "Baby," she says in a low, sweet voice. "I know we need to talk." I pour my juice and turn to her, trying to hide behind the tall glass. "We were drunk," she continues, running her fingers along her pearls. "We were really drunk. But, we do love each other." She pauses and knits her hands together. "Two people couldn't make love like that if they didn't care for each other." I almost choke on the juice when she says "make love." I put the glass on the counter and run my hand through my hair. "Grandma," I say, glancing quickly at her big, brown eyes. "It just makes me feel weird. What we did." She answers me with silence and studies her hands. "Honey," she says finally, her eyes still on her hands. "I know how it feels. I do. I understand. But, we're both adults. And." She pauses and looks up at me. "We both have needs. We can't help that." I pop my head back and grimace. Grandma stands and walks around the counter. She moves close to me and rests her long elegant fingers on my shoulder. "I had to get you drunk, darling. You never would have gone to that motel with me if I hadn't gotten you drunk. Very drunk." I whip my head back down to look at her. "You planned it? You wanted me to get drunk." She sighs. "I don't know if I planned it. I was there at Rizzoli's. You were there. You looked so good. I've been so unhappy." "Oh, Jesus," I blurt, feeling the juice crawl up the back of my throat. "Oh shit. That's even worse. Even sicker." She squeezes my shoulder. "Please, baby. Don't say that. There was nothing sick about what we did." I glare at her. "We're family, I say. You're my grandmother." She casts her eyes down, her hand still squeezing my bare shoulder. "I love you," she says. "I want you." "Noooooo," I reply, pulling myself away from her. "It's wrong. I can't do it. It's making me feel like shit." I turn to her, crossing my arms across my chest. "It wasn't right." Grandma puts her hands on her hips and stares at me. Her face is hard, her jaw set and her eyes cold. Her mouth tightens like she's about to say something but she stops herself. She takes a deep breath and her body relaxes. She smiles and the smile grows warmer as she gazes at me. "Okay," she says softly. "I understand. I don't want you to feel that way. I want to be a good grandmother." She drops her arms to her sides, takes a deep breath, and squares her shoulders. "Can I use your restroom?" She asks. Relieved, I point down the hall. "Right at the end," I say and she maneuvers around me, careful to avoid contact. I finish my juice. Things are back to normal. I feel the pressure and the anxiety lifting off my shoulders. Now that we've made things clear, maybe we can start over. As regular people, regular family. Dodged a bullet, I think to myself. Dodged a fucking nuclear missile. I place my empty glass in the sink and open a cabinet to grab a bowl and some cereal. The bathroom door down the hall clicks open and I hear Grandma's heels on the hallway linoleum. Her footsteps stop and I pour cereal into a bowl. Just as I'm reaching to open the fridge, I hear a quiet cough from the hallway. I look up and my brain flips upside down. Grandma is standing in the hall, her hips leaning against the arch of the entryway between the living room and kitchen. She's wearing a gleaming black corset that squeezes her waist and exaggerates her broad hips. The black sheath pushes her enormous breasts up into two, impossible mountains of flesh. She's wearing her heels but her legs are bare and her thick, meaty thighs taper at her knees into a pair of long, slender calves. The string of pearls, glowing dully in the weak sunlight, falls across her upper chest and loops down through her cleavage. She looks at me and a smile crawls across her lips. I can't speak. My boxers, however, speak for themselves. My cock is raising a tent pole. She tilts her chin downward and observes my erection for a moment. Then, she looks me in the eyes and licks her lips. I'm frozen. I can't move. I have to remember to breathe. Grandma says nothing. Instead, she turns slowly and walks back down the hall. My eyes attach themselves to the dimpled, naked skin of her big ass is it rolls up and down in rhythm to her swaying hips. Her long, silver hair sways across the black satin of the corset. I hear my bedroom door click open. I take a deep breath and wait. My cock is now fully erect. I'm angry, but my body hums with lust. I shut the cabinet door and pad down the hallway to my bedroom. The door is wide open and Grandma sits on the edge of the big bed. Her legs are spread wide and her hands rest next to her hips on the bed. She looks up at me with those big, luminous eyes. I pause in the doorway. "Love me," she whispers in a choked voice. With her eyes still glued to mine, she strokes her hand up and down her thigh. "Please, baby. I just want to love you." Like a zombie, I stumble into the bedroom and she smiles triumphantly. She raises her arms and I stagger between her knees. "That's it baby," she coos. "Let me love you." I gaze down at the tops of her enormous tits and the string of pearls that disappears into the canyon between them. Her fingers slip beneath the waistband of my boxers and she yanks them down to my knees. She rubs her hands up and down my thighs. "You're so lovely," she whispers. "Such a beautiful young man." She circles her hands around the base of my cock and rolls her eyes up to meet mine. Staring up at me, she murmurs, "That's it baby. Come to grandma." She gazes at my cock and slides her tongue across its big mushroom head like she's licking an ice cream cone. A lascivious grin spreads across her lips. "Delicious," she hums, sliding her eyes back up to mine. "I just want to be a good grandmother," she mutters before puckering her lips and slowly feeding my hard cock into her juicy, warm mouth. I groan and she swirls her tongue against my dick as she squeezes the base of my shaft. My hips flex involuntarily and, with a little grunt of satisfaction, she starts bobbing her mouth up and down. I lower my hands to the top of her head and grab two fistfuls of thick, platinum hair, tugging her ravenous mouth tight against my pulsating dick. I lean back, close my eyes, and stop thinking. Everything boils down now to the warm meeting place between my cock and her mouth. Her spreads her hands across my ass and squeezes. My balls twitch and I feel it starting deep inside my groin. Grandma does too. She digs her long fingernails in my ass cheeks, pushing her mouth hard against my cock. I bend at the waist, my fingers clutching her hair, as a wave of searing pleasure jolts across my groin and flows through my cock. I groan and Grandma gurgles deep down in her throat. I'm pumping my seed into her mouth, my cock twitching and jerking, until, finally, I'm drained. I sigh and Grandma pats my ass and pops her mouth off cock. A long strand of saliva and cum connects the tip of my cock to her lips. She raises her fingers to her mouth and swallows. Her eyes meet mine and she grins. I smile back at her. "Well," she says, reaching up to push the cups of her corset down over her tits. Her breasts slide down across the stiff, shiny fabric. "I guess." She leans back and raises her legs. Below a trimmed thatch of silver hair, her pussy glistens. "I guess," she repeats, leering up at me. "I guess it's your turn." I nod and scoot between her legs, pushing her legs wide apart and licking my way along the soft flesh of her inner thighs from her knees to her sweet cunt. My tongue makes contact with her pussy and she squirms. Two hours later, after a long, hard fuck and another slow cocksucking session, we lie next to each other on the bed. We're both sweaty and exhausted. Grandma's corset hangs off a corner of the headboard. Her hair is a mess and she's wearing one high heel. Our backs are propped up on pillows. I turn to her. "You know what I like to do after something like this?" She raises her eyebrows and I open the drawer on my nightstand and extract a small round, metal box. I pry it open and pinch a half-smoked roach between my fingers. "Care to indulge?" I ask her playfully. "Oh my," she answers. "I've never." "I'm shocked," I reply mockingly. "Guess I'm going to pop your doper cherry." She laughs and I dig into the drawer for a lighter. The tip of the roach glows red and I inhale deeply. I pass the joint to her and she holds it warily between her fingers. "Go on," I say. "Take a hit. Just inhale. It's like a cigarette, except good for you." She brings the joint to her lips and inhales tentatively. I laugh. "Deep breath." She coughs out a tiny cloud of smoke and then sucks on the roach. Smoke dribbles from the corners of her mouth. "Hold it inside," I say as I retrieve the joint from her fingers. After five or ten seconds, she expels a plume of smoke. "Good," I commend her as I take another toke and transfer the joint back to her fingers. "Keep going." We finish off the roach and I fish another joint out of the box. We pass it back and forth until it's dead. I lean back and close my eyes. "Wow," Grandma whispers. "Wow. I feel really good." I laugh. "It's known to have that effect." She taps my chest. "Baby, go get my purse, will you?" Still smiling I stand up and stride into the living room. Her small rectangular purse sits on the kitchen counter. I grab it and walk back into the bedroom, my big, limp cock flapping between my thighs. Grandma sits up in the bed, her tits hanging down her chest. "Wowee," she says dreamily. "I love the way you walk." She giggles and I look down at my cock. I shake my hips and it swings up and down. Laughing, I tumble back into bad and pass her the purse. She pecks me on the cheek and snaps it open. She pulls out a long rectangle of pinkish paper and hands it to me. "Here," she says. "I want you to have something." I look down at the check. The little box on the far side contains at least three zeroes. "No," I protest. "Really." She puts a finger to my lips. "It's okay, darling. Really. I want you to have it. I've never given you anything." I kiss her finger and stash the check in the nightstand drawer. Grandma settles her cheek on my chest. We drift along in our post-coital high until she raises her head off my body and studies me quietly. "What?" I say drowsily. "After all these years," she says in a serious tone. "I never thought." "All these years? You mean the years we didn't see each other." She shakes her head. "No. The years with Charlie". I squint. "Grandpa?" She nods. "All these years?" "Charlie hasn't made love to me in decades," she says, dropping her head back onto my chest. I stroke her hair and run my fingers along her shoulder blades. She crawls higher up my body, her heavy tits sliding against my abs. "That feels so good," she purrs. I smile. "So, Charlie doesn't appreciate this beautiful body?" I'm pretty stoned and she has to be zonked as well. I slide my hands along her hips and she mumbles something into my chest. "And," I continue. "Grandpa doesn't get turned on by this incredible ass." I smack my hand against her big ass cheek and squeeze it roughly. "Oh," she says and squirms her body against mine. "Don't be such a bad boy." "This big beautiful sexy ass," I whisper, dropping my other hand to her ass and grabbing a cheek in each hand. "No, baby," she whispers back. "It's a neglected ass." I grin and slide a hand into the valley between her cheeks. I push my finger farther and deeper between her pale globes until, leaning forward slightly, I touch her asshole. I roll the tip of my finger against it and she pushes her ass upward. Carefully, I slip my middle finger into the ring of muscle that guards her back door. Her body jerks. I wiggle my finger and she murmurs. I'm bending at my hips to get better leverage when a cell phone sings a short melody into the bedroom. We both freeze. "Oh shit," she mutters. "It's him." She twists away from me and my finger pops out of her asshole. She finds her purse on the side of the bed and pulls out a smartphone. She taps it and clamps it to her ear. "I told you," she says in short, clipped tones. "I'm at the gym." I'm still sitting over her on the bed and my cock is gradually starting to inflate. I reach back down and stroke her ass. She turns to me and shakes her head. I ignore her and grope a lovely, ripe ass cheek. "Yes, yes," she says sharply. "I'm listening." Sliding my hand back down her generous ass crack, I return my finger to her tight, little rosebud. She frowns and rolls her eyes. I rub my finger in a circle and I can feel her hips relax against me. "Yes," she repeats. "Goddamit. Why?" I hear her husband's voice burbling indistinctly. I slide my finger back into her ass and her body stiffens. My other hand snakes down past her shoulder and I palm her big breast. She rolls her torso toward me as I massage her nipple. My hard-working finger is making good progress on its journey inside her. "Yes, honey," she says with less irritation. "I understand. She needs it by Thursday." She arches her neck as I begin to gently fuck her ass with my finger. Her hips sway back to meet my probing finger. She opens her mouth. I slide my hand off her tit and circle my fingers around the wrist of her free hand. I tug it and her body flops onto my leg and my hip. I pull her hand downward onto my ballooning cock. She looks up at me and a grin breaks across her face. "Of course, dear," she murmurs more sweetly into the phone. "Tell me all about it. Please. Do." Her ass is now steadily humping up and down as I plunge my finger deeper inside her. The tight ring of her anus has relaxed. I squeeze her hand onto my cock and she wraps her fingers around it and grips it firmly. "Absolutely," she says, her voice gushing. "I know. I agree." Grandma presses her lips together and pauses. "She . . . uh . .. needs to do . . . uh . . . better." We're playing with each other in a slow, shared tempo. My hips squirm under her squeezing and stroking and her ass bumps up and down on my finger. She screws her eyes closed and bites her lip. "Oh. . . . My. . . . Gosh . . .," She says, the words popping out of her mouth in a staccato rhythm. Her big ass begins to jiggle and shake. "There's my trainer. I really need to goooooooo, darling." She taps a thumb on the phone and drops it next to the bed. She opens her eyes and grins at me. "Bad, bad boy," she whispers hoarsely as she slides across my hips and presses her lips against my cock. I bury my finger deep in her ass and pause. "Oh no," she murmurs, shoving her ass against my hand. "Don't stop, bad boy." Her mouth attacks my cock as I renew my finger fucking. Her hips spasm up and down and I push my hand into her hair as I explode into her mouth. She grinds her ass hard against my finger and greedily sucks me dry. An hour later, tired but relaxed, I'm alone on the bed. Grandma has jumped into the shower, dressed, and collected her things. She pats my cheek on the way out of the bedroom. The front door opens and shuts. This time, I'm not plagued by second thoughts. My body feels perfect. My head still swims pleasantly in a weed-clouded state. I scratch my chest and look at the clock. I've still got an hour or two to get some sleep. I roll onto my side and drift into darkness. "I'm wicked now," I say to myself as I drive home from work the next morning. All night long, visions of grandma's big, fat ass have danced in front of me as I unload cargo from truck trailers. A little before dawn, I lock myself in the bathroom and jerk off to the memory of my cock squeezing its way into her pussy. I'm almost ready to go at it again when a knock on the door interrupts me. Big Jack McHale needs to take a dump. "Very, very wicked," I say out loud in the car. I like the sound of it. In fact, spoken aloud, the words encourage my cock to crawl down the inside of my jeans. "Grandma and I get wicked together," I elaborate and laugh. "I love to fuck her hard and fast." I laugh again and debate whether to pull off the road and rub out a quick one. Instead, I push my foot onto the pedal and speed back to my apartment. I'm just inside the front door when my phone vibrates in my jacket pocket. I shut the door and palm the phone. Love you. The text reads. Dinner tonight. My place. 7 p.m. Dinner? With grandpa too? I'm wrapping my head around grandma's invitation when another text pops onto the screen. 7 p.m. SHARP! I shuckle and push the phone back into my jacket. Better rest up. Wicked times can be very demanding. I undress, shower, and dive into my bed.