4 comments/ 67196 views/ 25 favorites The Iron Shop Ch. 01 By: earlbrowder I am a gym rat and have been since I was about 15. That was the year when, as a scrawny kid just starting to count his pubic hairs, I stumbled into the world of iron. I was at my grandparents' house. Grandpa, at a ripe age of 77, was starting a slow decline. But, one summer afternoon, he pulled me over to his big over-stuffed chair and pulled an old photo album off the desk next to him. With a chuckle, he started flipping through the pages - - which showed old black and white photos of a young man in shorts showing off his muscled body. "Guess who that is?" Grandpa asked me. I shrugged. Gramps slapped me on the head playfully. "That's me, Frankie. When I was only a few years older than you. Before I bought the gym." The "gym" was called Tom's Iron Shop. Grandpa had owned it for decades, and it was THE musclehead hangout in San Pietro, the little town north of Los Angeles where Gramps and Gran lived. "Wow," I answered. "That was a long time ago." Gramps laughed again. "Sure was. But you know, I was the Mr. Atlas California for five years running. Back then. Them was the Depression years." I nodded. Grandpa had always been a big guy. And in the photos, you could see where that started. Over and over again, he flexed his thick biceps and pumped the large ropey muscles around his shoulders. His thighs were thick, and his chest was sculpted. "Jeez, Gramps," I said. "Could I look like that?" Gramps chuckled and closed the album. "Well, boy, I suppose anything's possible. Let's go out to the garage and see what we got." I helped Gramps off his chair. In the garage, he threw a sheet off a pile of junk in the corner to reveal a huge weightstack, some bars, and a bench. For the next week, he initiated me into the mysteries of iron. And, though Gramps died a couple of years later, I never looked back. By the time I was 18, I was spending three or four hours a day in the gym. I graduated from high school with no intention of going to college. I just wanted to lift and keep on lifting. I took a job as a garage mechanic and kept lifting. Around this time, Arnold was becoming a huge popular phenomenon. We all wanted to be like Arnie. And, so, we all started playing around with steroids. First, pills. A handful of Dianabol in the morning with some grapefruit. Then, injectibles. 300 or 440 mg of testosterone cypionate a week. And we ate a lot. And we kept on lifting. By the time I was 22, I was competing. I won a few titles. But I had a problem. Most bodybuilders are shorter and squatter. I was 6'2" - - too tall for a pro bodybuilder. Still, I was looking good. 220 lbs, 17.5 inch biceps, 47 inch chest, 35 inch waist. Like I said, I lived at the gym. With all those steroids, however, another problem developed. Testosterone helps to bulk you up, but it also detonates your libido like a thermonuclear device. Imagine: you have 4 or 5 times the amount of testosterone in your body than you did when you were 17. I was jerking off a lot. And, I was pretty much fucking anything in the gym that moved, had tits, and a pussy. This was not a pretty situation. In June of my 25th year, I got a surprising call. "Yo, Frank." my friend Tom shouted across the gym, waving the phone in his hand. I settled the pile of weights back onto the machine. Giving a couple of high fives to my friends, I walked over to pick up the phone. "Hello, Frank." A sweet, feminine voice sang into my ear over the clanging of barbells and grunts. "Yeah. Hi." "You don't recognize my voice?" I heard a cute little laugh. I searched my mind. Back and forth. Shaking my head. "Ohhhhhhhhhh," I practically shouted. "Grandma! How you doing?" Gran laughed. "I guess you get lots of calls from your girlfriends down at the gym." I laughed. "No. But it's really noisy down here and I we haven't talked since last Easter." Gran laughed. She paused. "Have you got a minute or two?" "Sure." Gran sighed. "Well, you know Tom left me the gym. And it was going pretty well. But, last year, Jeff . . you remember Jeff?" Sure, I remembered Jeff. I remembered that in addition to managing the gym for Gran he had also dealt coke out of the back office. "Well, Jeff had some trouble with the law. He had to leave." I nodded into the phone. "So," Gran continued. "I've been trying to run things. But, to be honest, I was never much for business. And, well . . . Frank. We're in trouble up here." "Okay, Gran," I said. "What kind of trouble?" "Oh, Frankie." I could hear her tears in her voice. "If we don't get things back on track, I think they're going to take the gym." She held back a sob. "What would Tom think of me?" I sighed. "It's okay, Gran. Don't worry. Tell me what you want me to do." "I know you're busy down there," Gran continued. "But I was just wondering if you could take some time off to help me get things back to normal. Just a month or so." I clamped the phone between my ear and my shoulder and looked out over the gym. Same old muscleheads doing the same old shit. I thought about the garage where I worked. Same old gearheads doing the same old shit. Then, I thought about Gramps. And about tiny little San Pietro. "Sure, Gran," I said into the phone. "Give me a couple of days to pack up and take care of things. I'll be up by Saturday." Relief flooded Gran's voice. "Oh, thank you, Frank! Tom is smiling in heaven. And, I'm smiling right here." I laughed. "Hey, I'm smiling too." We said goodbye to each other. I hit the showers, already planning how to pack, what to do with the apartment, and when to score some testosterone to tide me over in San Pietro. By Friday morning, I was gunning my Mustang through the outskirts of San Pietro. I slowed down in front of Tom's Iron Shop on the main street. The place did look run down. Peeling paint. And old banner proclaiming, "Home of Mr. Atlas," hanging down from one corner of the facade. A couple of windows clouded with dirt and age. I pushed the accelerator down and drove to Gran's. I pulled into Gran's driveway and saw the front door open. Gran stepped out onto the porch - - wearing sweats and a tank top - - and waved at me. Let me tell you about my grandmother. Grandpa had been a wild man in his youth and into his middle age. But, while visiting the Mr. Atlas contest one year, he had stayed for the Miss Atlas contest. That's where he met grandma - - a farm girl from the Central Valley who placed third in the Miss Atlas. He was almost 25 years older than grandma when they met. They got married, had two kids, and ran the business together. Grandma kept competing - - through two pregnancies and after. In fact, the year grandpa died, nearing fifty, she had competed in the Mrs. Atlas contest and placed a respectable fifth. She still worked out and, approaching sixty years-old, it showed. Her belly was taut, her arms were smooth and full, and her face, though crowned by a nimbus of silver hair and lined by age, was dominated by a pair of sparkling green eyes. I smiled. "I'm soooooooo glad to see you, Frank," Grandma mumbled into my shoulder as we hugged. "Soooooo glad." I patted here on the shoulder. "Me too, Gran. Me too." She wiped her eyes. "If only Tom could be here to see it." I smiled and she grabbed my hand and led me into the house. I stowed my stuff in the guest room and met grandma in the dining room of their tiny little two bedroom bungalow. "Sit, sit," she said, waving her hand at the dining room table. I sat down and she left for the kitchen, returning with a plate of eggs and bacon. "Growing boys have to eat!" She said with a bright smile, her white teeth shining. "Sure do, grandma," I said, digging into the plate. "Good lord," grandma said, moving around behind me. "Why, I remember when you were just a skinny little teenager." I laughed. I was wearing a tank and jeans, and Gran ran her hands across my shoulders and squeezed my delts. "You're still lifting," she laughed. "Lifting a lot." I laughed. "You are too," I said, sipping on my coffee and turning toward her. "You look great." Grandma blushed and crossed her arms over her perfectly apple-sized breasts. "Well, thank you! I do still workout. After all, I own the gym." I laughed. "About the gym . . . ." Grandma sat down and laid out the whole story to me. Jeff's poor management. People switching to the Bally's up the road. Old equipment. I listened. "What about the muscleheads?" I asked. "They're still there," Grand answered. "Just fewer of them." I finished my coffee. "Got a pad of paper and pencil?" I asked grandma. She left for the living room and returned with a legal pad and pen. "Okay," I said. "I've never run a gym. But I sure have spent some time in them. Let's get a plan." Grandma and I spent the rest of the afternoon defining the business problems and trying to think out some solutions. First on my agenda was renovating the Iron Shop. Top to bottom. For that, we'd need some money. Grandma said the folks at San Pietro Savings would help us. New equipment. And, a new approach to the gym. We sketched it all out. I spent the weekend at the Iron Shop. Grandma introduced me to the regulars, and I made notes on the work we needed to do. I spent all Sunday measuring, taking notes, and driving to the local lumberyard, the hardware store, and calling friends in L.A. who ran their own gyms. Monday morning at 9 a.m. I was in San Pietro Savings sitting in front of Mrs. Fabian's desk. She was the chief loan officer and, by the looks of it, no easy case. She was probably a bit younger than grandma, her gray hair piled into a bouffant. Unlike grandma's toned body, Mrs. Fabian tended to the voluptuous side, with a big bosom, thick hips, and meaty torso. She smiled at me as I crossed my legs. There was something about her face that was both sensuous and severe - - maybe it was the combination of her full lips and straight thin nose. "Well, aren't you the spitting image of Tom," Mrs. Fabian said, still smiling. I grinned back. "Thanks." "Big and well-made, just like Tom." I grinned some more. Mrs. Fabian stood and walked over to shut the door. Her black, knee-length dress showed off her fleshy curves. She returned and perched herself on the edge of her desk right in front of me. "Now, dear," she said, patting me on the shoulder. "I know all about Abby's problems at the gym. Can you believe what that Jeff Andrews did to her?" I nodded. "And now, she's called you in to help her out." I nodded again. "And, I have a new business plan." Mrs. Fabian smiled broadly. "I'm sure you do honey." I felt her eyes running up and down my body. "You really are one well put-together young man," she said, a slight flush running up along her cheeks. "But, sweetie, we have a little problem." I frowned. "Yes," Mrs. Fabian continued, settling herself onto her desktop and crossing her arms. "Tom already took out a second mortgage on the gym. Abby didn't tell you?" "No, ma'am," I answered. "Well," Mrs. Fabian waved her hand dismissively. "She may not even know. But . . .that second mortgage is going to stand in the way of a new loan." Mrs. Fabian's brown eyes fastened onto mine. "Unless we can work something out." Her neck and cheeks were flushed red. And, her skin had begun to glisten with sweat. I smiled. "I think we can work something out, Mrs. Fabian." I stood and pulled her up by the elbows. "We can definitely work something out." The older woman sighed as I slipped my arms around her waist. Her arms circled my neck and I crushed her plush and padded body against mine. Our lips met and, with a groan, Mrs. Fabian opened her mouth to my tongue. I felt her body tremble as I plunged my tongue deep into her mouth and squeezed her big fleshy ass. Her body quivered again, from head to toe, as she tightened her arms around my neck and began frenetically sliding her tongue against mine. I pushed her backwards onto the desk until she lay splayed out below me. Grinning, I began to unzip my jeans. "Oh my god," she moaned, the locks of her bouffant starting to unwind around her neck. "Oh lord. You do move so fast, young man." Still grinning, I pulled my cock out of my jeans and began stroking myself. Mrs. Fabian pulled her shoes onto the edge of the desk and raised her knees. She leaned back on her elbows, her eyes riveted on my cock, and licked her lips. She was breathing heavily now, her big bosom heaving up and down. "Oh lord," she sighed. There was a sharp knock at the door. Panic spread across Mrs. Fabian's eyes. "Jesus," she swore and sat up, pushing me backward. "Zip that up and sit right back down." I stuffed my dick back in my pants and zipped up while Mrs. Fabian retreated behind her desk. "Yes," she called out in a wavering voice. "Come in." She was still flushed and sweating as she pushed her hair back into place. "I have that paperwork on the gym that you wanted," a young female voice sounded behind me. "Oh, yes, Gloria. Of course." Mrs. Fabian waved to the woman behind me. Gloria passed to my left. She was about my age, raven-haired, and good-looking. She handed Mrs. Fabian a file. "Very good, Gloria. You may leave now." Mrs. Fabian waved the folder at Gloria, as she turned and left. "Well," Mrs. Fabian sighed. "As you can see, my office is not the most private of places." She smiled at me and drew some paperwork from out of a desk drawer. "We'll give you a line of credit," she said, writing on the papers. "But . . . we'll have to continue this interview elsewhere." I smiled. "Just name the place and time, Mrs. Fabian." She flushed again. "Why don't you call me this afternoon. And here, take this." She passed me her card. "I'll expedite the credit line, and everything should be ready by tomorrow." I thanked her and she rose and extended her hand. I squeezed it firmly. "I look forward to finishing our conversation," I said as I peered into her eyes. "Tell Abby I said hello," Mrs. Fabian answered, a blush starting blossom across her cheeks. Five minutes later, I walked out of the bank armed with a healthy line of credit. The Iron Shop Ch. 02 Eager to begin, I headed straight for the gym. Normal hours were from noon to ten p.m. I posted a notice on the door explaining that we'd be closing for a couple of days and unloaded grandpa's tool chest from my trunk. I spent the rest of the day tearing down drywall, dragging weights and old equipment out the back, measuring rooms, and sketching out a drawing of the new gym. When I returned to grandma's that night for dinner, she told me that Mrs. Fabian had called and congratulated her on the line of credit and her gentlemanly grandson. I smiled to myself and hit the shower. Grandma had cooked up a couple of pounds of chicken and some brown rice, along with broccoli and tomatoes. I shoveled it up. After clearning the table, grandma sat down next to me. She clasped my hand in her two little hands. "I love you so much, Frank," she whispered. "Thanks so much for everything." "It's nothing, Gran," I answered. "I've always thought about running my own shop. And this is a great opportunity." Gran smiled and squeezed my hand. We chatted about family and San Pietro while she sipped her coffee. "Well," I said after a half our or so of conversation. "Gramps still have his bench and weights in the garage." Gran nodded brightly. "Time for me to hit the stack!" I pulled off my tank and changed into shorts and tennis shoes. In the garage, I uncovered grandpa's old weight set and started working out. I had just started a set of super heavy squats when grandma opened the door and walked in. I smiled at her and bent with the bar across my shoulders. I was really trying to work my thighs deep and hard. Grandma, smiling, sat on opposite me and watched. I grunted through my set and dropped the weights on the stand. "You know," grandma said. "Your gramps and I used to work out together. Right here. Our own private gym." She laughed and I mopped my forehead and chest with a towel. Grandma stood. "Here, honey, let me get your back." I stood straighter and felt grandma gently wiping my back. "Good lord," she sighed. "Look at those traps." Laughing, I flexed. I felt her small hands flutter across my upper back. "Tom would be so proud," she said as she returned in front of me. I looked at her. She had on a sleeveless training top and a pair of nylon shorts. I could see she was in great shape. Her waist tucked into her hips and her thighs were thick with muscle. Her braless breasts still rode high and proud on her chest. "Hey," I said. "I'm gonna move to my chest press. Wanna spot me?" Grandma nodded and I lay back on the bench, gripping the bar above me. She stood just above my head. I looked up at the bar and then backward toward grandma. Her luscious thighs were only inches from my head. She looked down at me with a smile. "Ready?" She asked. I nodded and lifted, while she rested her hands lightly on the bar. There is someting sexual about weightlifting: straining, flexing, pumping muscles; sweat; exertion. As I pushed the bar up and down and felt the burn spreading out from my chest and shoulders, I kept my eyes on grandma's thighs. So firm and full. Milky white, smooth skin. Before I knew it, my cock had started to stir in my shorts. I grunted and pushed the weights more slowly, enjoying the hard effort to raise them upward and lower them. With a final surge, I pounded out my last rep and dropped the bars into their stand. "Wow," I said, breathing hard. "That was maximum weight." Gran smiled. "Sit up, baby. Let me wipe you down." I sat up and grandma began running a towel around my shoulders and across my back. I felt her cool hands on my upper back. "Lord," she sighed. "You are getting so thick back here." I smiled. "Thanks." "What's next?" Grandma asked. She walked around to the front of the bench. I could see her starting to flush along her upper chest. "Just some quick shoulder raises. Spot me?" Grandman nodded and stood in front of me. I grasped a dumbbell in each hand and started to slowly raise them up from my waist outward. Grandma's hands floated under my wrists. I'm a slow lifter - - I like careful, deliberate motions that emphasize form and push my muscles to their maximum. I lowered the dumbbells deliberately. "Great form," Grandma said. "But . . maybe you need to pull your shoulders back a bit more." I grunted. "How so?" "Go ahead and lift," grandma said. "I'll show you." She stepped closer to me until our two bodies were almost in contact. Something electrical passed between us as I felt her hands rise to grasp my shoulders and her breath puffed against my chest. I took a deep breath. "Lift," she said in almost a whisper. I pulled the dumbbells upward slowly, as grandma grasped my shoulders and pushed them gently backward. As she did, she stepped closer until our two bodies were in light contact. Gym work often requires buddies and teams. It wasn't rare for a guy to touch another guy while lifting. And, if you were working out with a woman, it was even less than rare. But, grandma's hands on my shoulders were doing something else. I lowered the weights slowly. Her hands remained on my shoulders, squeezing my engorged muscles. "Again," she said, quietly. Her breathing had grown deeper and more ragged. A deep red flush had spread across her chest and up her neck. I lifted again, more slowly. As I did, I stepped gently forward, pushing myself closer to grandma. She caught her breath. I looked down at her. Here eyes were glued on my chest, as if she were avoiding my eyes. I lowered the weights again. She stayed where she was. My eyes traveled down her slender, toned body all the way to her athletic shoes. Something about her bare ankles jolted me. Maybe because a brief image of her feet wrapped around my neck flashed through my mind. I felt my cock jerk to attention - - hard and thick and long. It pressed against grandma's firm belly. "Again," grandma said in a ragged voice, pressing herself harder against me and squeezing my shoulders. I couldn't believe it. Maybe it was the steroids. Maybe it was something else. But, all I wanted to do right now was throw my grandmother down on the bench and fuck her silly. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force the image out of my brain. "No," I grunted, dropping the weights to the floor. "That's good. Don't want to work it too much." I heard grandma gasp as she released my shoulders and stepped back. Her face was flushed and her eyes slowly rose to meet mine. We looked at each other, and we both knew something. Something scary and exciting. Grandma trembled and turned away. I stepped back. Silently, she turned an left the garage. I stood still, confused. I reached down for my towel and slowly wiped the sweat off my body. My cock relaxed. I sighed. Just a bit of confusion, I told myself. Just working out. She's just helping me. No worries. I packed the weights away and headed back inside the house. Gran was in her bedroom with the door shut. I showered quickly and practically dashed to my room. Switching off the lights, I dove into bed and hoped I'd forget what I knew I couldn't stop remembering. I drove to the Iron Shop early the next morning and got to work. After cleaning the place up, I drove grandpa's truck to the building supply store and loaded up on new tile, two-by-fours, sheet rock, and everything else I could fit in the bed of the truck. I'd start with the floor, which I'd already stripped. I started laying tile. By noon, I'd finished half of it in glowing white, tough, vinyl tile. I sat back and gulped at a gallon jug of ice tea. A knock sounded at the door. Groaning, I rose up and opened the door. It was Mrs. Fabian, dressed in her tight black dress and pumps. "Hi, Frank." She pushed past me and closed the door behind me. "I came by to check out the progress." "Welcome," I answered. "Looks good," she said, turning around too look at the gym. "But . . . you didn't call me yesterday." "Oh jeez," I said. "Sorry. I really got into the job. But, I was going to give you a ring today." "Uh huh," Mrs. Fabian said, nodding. "Is that door locked?" I turned and pushed the lock over. "It is now." Mrs. Fabian reached behind her and pulled the zipper of her dress down, looking into my eyes the whole time. She shrugged the dress off to reveal her curvy body. Her tits were huge, bulging over the top of her bra like two snowy mountains. Her hips were wide and her waist, while fleshy, was narrower. Her big legs were perched on black high heels. "Time to workout?" She said, a grin spreading across her face. I grinned back and walked over to her, pulling off my t-shirt and unfastening my jeans. By the time I had my arms around her waist, I was in my boxers. Mrs. Fabian squealed in delight as I crushed her body next to mine. Her tits jammed against my chest. Our lips met hungrily and we were sucking each others' tongues. "Oh my goooooooood," Mrs. Fabian bawled, pulling her wet mouth off of mine. "Yesssss, honey, that's it." She reached down and fished by hard cock out of my boxers. Jerking and yanking at my dick, she began moaning. I pulled her bra straps down to release her tits and, grasping a huge mound of flesh in each hand, I began licking and nibbling her big, red nipples. My cock swelled bigger and fatter. Mrs. Fabian released it and began running her hands all over my shoulders and chest. "Oh lord," she sighed. "Yes, baby. Oh my god. You've got to give momma what she needs." I reached down and pulled her black panties off her hips, sticking my foot between her thighs to peel them all the way down her legs. Mrs. Fabian wrapped her arms around my neck and leaped onto me, wrapping her meaty legs around my waist. Grunting, I wrapped one arm around her big ass and grabbed my cock with the other. She squealed as I squeezed her ass. I pushed my dick hard against her wet pussy and jammed my hips forward, driving my cock deep into her in one sweeping motion. "Ohhhhh," she moaned, squeezing my neck in her arms. "Yes. Put it in momma!" I laughed and, palming her ass in my hands, began bouncing her up and down on my cock. Mrs. Fabian panted and groaned and gasped as I plowed in and out of her. I felt her head flopping up and down on my shoulder as I hammered away at her juicy pussy. "Yessss," she mumbled deliriously. "Fuck me harder, harder." Our bodies were bouncing together, colliding into each other as I rocked her on and off my cock. Groaning, I lowered her to the ground, my cock still plugged into her. Her big luscious body was covered in sweat, and she gazed up at me with a slack mouth and a dazed expression. She was gasping for air, her huge tits rolling back and forth. I jammed my cock deep inside her and began pumping furiously. Her body quivered and quaked. I felt her legs wrap around my waist as she turned her head away from my gaze. The only sound in the gym was the wet slap of my cock in her pussy and her deep grunts meeting my every stroke. I pulled my cock out of her and pushed her limp, unresisting body over onto her stomach until her big wide ass spread out before me. I plunged my cock back into her gaping pussy and rode her shaking ass. My thigh muscles coiled and uncoiled as I drove my leaden cock in and out.. Mrs. Fabian lay there, barely moving. Her tiny, delicate hands gentely smacked the floor as we rocked together. She whimpered in a low voice as I smacked her ass hard and continued fucking her. With another savage thrust, I buried my cock all the way to my pubes and squeezed a meaty ass cheek in each of my hands. My body tensed. My cock exploded. I grunted and ground my hips against her ass. Emptying myself into her, I began running my hands up and down her back, squeezing and kneading. She moaned more deeply, and I felt her hips twitch back and forth. I leaned down and kissed her shoulders and pulled my dripping, hard cock out of her. "Shittttttttttt," I whispered into Mrs. Fabian's ear as I rolled onto my side. "You are one regular fuck-star." She lay there, still and quiet. I slipped onto my back, staring up at the suspended ceiling above. Have to change that too, I made a note to myself. Finally, with a low grumble, Mrs. Fabian rolled onto her side and placed a hand on my chest. She leaned over and kissed me, our tongues flicking against each other. Then she reached down and gave my cock a squeeze. "Delicious, sweetie," she sighed, resting her head on my chest. "I have never been fucked like that." I smiled. "Mmmmmmm," she purred, pushing her thick thigh onto mine. "You know just what momma likes." Her tongue flicked against my ear, and I reached down to stroke her thigh. We lay like that for a while, relaxing, bringing our pulses back to normal. At last, Mrs. Fabian stirred, sliding her thigh across my crotch and pulling herself upright to sit across my hips. She leaned down to kiss me. "Time to get back to work," she sighed, pushing her hair back into place. I reached up to squeeze her big breasts in my hands. Playfully, she slapped at my hands. "Not now, sweetie. Momma's got to go make some money." I laughed. She pulled herself upright and stood above me. "Mmmmmm," she said with a smile, her eyes wandering up and down my body. "Still . . . maybe money isn't all that important." With a flirtatious wiggle of her wide hips, she stepped over me and began putting her clothes back on. I watched as she stuffed her tits back into her bra, pulled up her panties, and crammed herself back into her dress. I stood and wandered over to help her with her zipper. Mrs. Fabian turned and gave me a big wet kiss. She took my ears in her hands and playfully pushed my head back and forth. "Now, you've got trouble, mister," she said, smiling. "You're going to have to take care of momma all the time." I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her. "You name the time and the place." She laughed and pinched my cheek. "Are the bathrooms in yet?" I nodded no. "Oh well, guess I'll have to stop at home on the way back to work." She strutted over to the door. I watched her big ass roll back and forth on her high heels. At the door, she turned her face back to me. "I'll be callingggggggggg," she trilled. The door shut behind her and I pulled my clothes back on. The Iron Shop Ch. 03 After Mrs. Fabian left, I finished the floor by late afternoon and was starting to put sheet rock up as the sun dropped and dusk began. Covered in dust and dirt, my hands crusted with glue and sheet rock crumbs, I locked up and drove back to grandma's. On the dining room table, I found a note: "Frank, I'll be back around seven. Big news! Love, G." I smiled and began pulling my clothes off on the way to the shower. The hot water felt great on my sore muscles, and I stood with my arms against the shower wall soaking in the spray. Changing into a pair of sweats and t-shirt, I was surprised by a light knock at the door. "Oh Frankie," grandma said as she pushed the door open. "Are you decent?" "Decent as I'll ever be," I answered, laughing. Grandma entered the room with big smile. "I've got steak for dinner. Fresh corn. Peaches." I rubbed my stomach. "Perfect!" I stood and grandma paused at the door. Her eyes twitched nervously over my shoulders and torso. "I have some big news, too," she said with a shy smile, her green eyes shining. "Fantastic. What's up?" Grandma sighed. "Well, you know the Mrs. Atlas contest has a new division." I tied the drawstring of my sweats. "Fifty and over," grandma continued, putting her hands on her hips. I looked at her and smiled. "No way!" She nodded enthusiastically. I laughed. "When do you start training?" I said with a grin. Grandma clapped her hands together. "Tonight! . . . But, only if you agree to something." I nodded. "I need a trainer!" She looked at me with those sparkling green eyes and a big smile. "Of course," I answered. "Absolutely! Fantastic! We'll have you walking away with that cup in no time!" Grandma's smile brightened and she rushed over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. I carefully put my hands on her hips. She pecked my cheek. "Thank you so much, Frank," she gushed. "You make me so happy!" I gave her a peck on the soft skin of her cheek. "Let's go eat," I said, gently pushing her away from me. "Then, we'll train." Grandma giggled and I followed her into the dining room. If you want to get huge, achieve what bodybuilders call a state of "hypertrophy," you lift super heavy with very low repetitions. You find your maximum weight and you try to lift it three or four times. And, you only train a major body part - - chest, shoulders, legs - - once a week. But, if you want to get hard and defined without overly increasing muscle size, you've got to lift lower weights with more reps and train more frequently. Since I'd worked out the night before, this was my night off. Gran on the other hand wanted to achieve that tight, dry look where muscles pop out of the skin. At that point in time, very few judges liked massively muscled women - - they preferred ladies with tight bodies. This meant that grandma would have to work out just about every night, emphasizing many repetitions of the same exercise. It also meant that we'd have to keep meticulous track of just how many reps and sets of each exercise she was doing. And we'd have to keep meticulous track of her progress - - weighing her, measuring muscle size, body fat, etc. She'd also have to do a lot of cardio, the kind of exercise like running or rowing or aerobics that burns lots of calories. I explained all of this to grandma as we sat next to each other on the bench in the garage. She agreed. So, for about a half hour we planned out her schedule to the last rep and the last minute. She was excited like a schoolgirl at the thought of getting back into competition. And, although she was in excellent shape for a 57 year-old woman, we had some work to do. Grandma was wearing a pair of track pants and a training top which kept her breasts tight against her body but bared her waist. I asked her to drop her pants so that we could measure her. Blushing, she pulled her pants down and stepped out of them. She looked good standing there in her boy shorts and training top and athletic shoes. I pulled the tape out of my pocket and got down to business. I measured her calves, thighs, and ankles. As I did, I ran my hands over her smooth white skin, feeling the density and size of her muscles. Her thighs and calves were beautiful - - hard, lean muscle covered by a thin, barely detectable layer of subdermal fat. I moved to her ass and hips. She still had a tiny waist and nicely flared hips. Delicately, I ran my hands over her taut nylon-covered ass. It was firm, but a little tender. I stood and saw grandma blushing. "It's okay," I said, laughing. "I'm a pro at this . . and I'm just your trainer." She giggled and raised her arms. I measured her chest and her upper torso and then pulled her arms down in front of her. Her shoulders were well-rounded with a definite muscle cap on top of each. Her triceps looked beautiful - - thick and firm and visible. We'd have to work on her biceps which were flat. I entered all the numbers into the notebook with her training schedule. "Okay," I said. "Pants back up. We're going to start with some cardio." Grandma pulled her track pants back up and I handed her a jump rope. "Fifteen minutes, rest three minutes, fifteen more." Grandma nodded and began skipping rope. I noted her good form and penned some details into the notebook. It was the end of June in Southern California. And, it was hot and dry. I'd made sure to bring a gallon jug of water into the garage. But without a lot of windows, and even with the door open, it was warm inside. Sweat began pouring off of grandma's forehead, back, and shoulders. When she paused to rest in between her sets, I passed her the jug and she gulped down some water. "You okay?" I asked. She nodded and picked the rope back up. I looked at my watch and told her to start. By the time grandma was halfway through her routine, I could see that she was overheating, despite all the water she was drinking. After three sets of tricep extensions, she sat up on the bench, took a slug of water, and wiped herself down. "It's too hot in here, honey," she said to me. "I know." "I'm going to have to take these pants off," she replied with a shrug. I nodded as grandma stood and peeled the pants down off her legs. She stood there in her boy shorts, shoes, and training top. "Ready?" I asked. She nodded, and we moved on to her lower body workout - - squats, extensions, calf raises. Watching the sweat run off her in rivers, I started heating up. I could taste my salty sweat as it ran down from my forehead and dripped off my nose. Grand finished up her extensions and looked at me. She was breathing hard and covered in a sheen of sweat. "Baby," she huffed. "Look at you. You're dripping wet." I nodded and she gestured toward my sweatpants. What the hell, I thought and I pushed them down over my legs and stepped out of them. In my tight trunks and black training shoes, I felt like some kind of old-time boxer. With a shrug, I pulled my t-shirt over my head and threw it into the corner. Grandma smiled. "You know," she said. "Your gramps and I used to work out like this on hot summer nights." I smiled. "I bet you two did some working out in here." Grandma blushed and looked down. "Okay . . back to work!" I said jokingly. I stuck a few weight plates under the front of grandma's shoes and she started her calf raises. Watching her muscles flex beneath her skin, I was fascinated. Her calves were perfect - - well-defined, strong, firm - - and perfectly contrasted by her delicate ankles. I felt my upper chest start to tingle. Yeah, I said to myself, this is freaky. Getting turned on by your grandmother's calves. But, I reminded myself: I'm just helping her train. And, she's my grandmother. My eyes traveled up her legs to beautifully rounded thighs, her quadriceps bulging in front - - balanced and symmetrical. Her flesh was covered in an iridescent shine of sweat. Her legs working up and down. Her panting deepened as she increased her reps. Very freaky, I thought, as I felt my cock stirring in my boxers. Too freaky. "Okay," I said. "One more set. I'll go get some clean towels." Grandma grunted yes and I returned to the house to grab some towels from the bathroom. Though I wasn't fully erect, my cock had already started to crawl down the side of my boxers, which were drenched in sweat. In the bathroom, I gazed down at my dick and flashed back onto grandma's beautiful, shapely legs. My cock hardened. I reached down to pat it. I closed my eyes, reliving that view of her calves flexing and her thighs moving. My hand involuntarily stroked my dick through my boxers. As my cock grew harder, I stroked faster, imagining now the touch and taste of her sweaty, smoth skin. Just as I imagined running my tongue up grandma's firm, inner thigh, my cock exploded. "Oh, shit," I blurted out loud, as my dick jerked back and forth and waves of pleasure radiated from my crotch into my torso. "It's just the fucking testosterone. Coulda been any woman's legs." Embarrassed, I pulled my shorts down, threw them in the hamper, toweled the cum off my crotch and thigh, and grabbed a fresh towel from the rack. I made my way to bedroom with my big cock, still swollen, swinging back and forth between my legs. I dug up a pair of gym shorts and walked back to the garage. Grandma had finished the workout, but remained in her panties. She sat on the bench, her skin glowing from the exercise and her muscles full and rippling. I passed her the towel. "Good workout," I said, avoiding her eyes. "Shower up and I'll take care of the garage." Grandma stood and stretched her arms over her head, raising her breasts upward. "I feel fantastic, Frank," she purred. "Thanks so much!" She pecked me on the cheek. I smiled back. "Go on, get outa here before I make you do another 20 reps!" Grandma giggled and left. As I tidied up the garage, I thought about what had happened in the bathroom. Definitely the testosterone. When you're shooting that much test, you're always horny. Had nothing to do with grandma. Coulda been a freaking cow and I woulda horned up with a boner. I laughed to myself. But, so it went for the next several nights. Grandma stripped down to her panties - - never anything sexy and usually boy shorts - - and me opting to wear skintight lycra shorts. I resisted staring at her. And, I resisted jerking off. Neither one was easy. Don't let anyone tell you that vanity isn't part of the bodybuilding culture. We lift and get big because we enjoy it. But, we lift and get big because it makes us look better and we like to look at ourselves. A couple of days later, after working on the Iron Shop, I grabbed one of the old floor mirrors out of the dumpster and trucked it back home. Results are a great motivator, and I positioned the mirror against the wall in the garage to inspire grandma. That was her "off" night, giving her body time to rest and recuperate. But it was one of my "on" nights. And, again, it was hot and dry. After dinner, I pulled on my shorts and went to the garage to workout. It was a good, hard workout. And an hour later, tired, sweaty, but pumped up, I mopped myself with a towel. My eyes caught my reflection in the mirror and I started posing. Arms raised, my huge biceps flaring above my arms like small mountains, my shoulder muscles compressed into a ball. Veins popping out across my biceps. Then, turning sideways and flexing my thighs. I wanted to get the full view. So, with a glance over at the garage door, I pulled my shorts down. I stood nude in front of the mirror, relaxed. I raised my arms and flexed. Lowered my arms and humped my shoulders together. My hands on my hips, flexing my upper body and pushing one big, meaty thigh forward. Fantastic, I thought to myself as I admired my nude body in the mirror. I recalled those pervs at the gyms in L.A. who offered to pay me, and my buddies, good money to pose for them. Laughing, I imagined what kind of pose they might like. I grabbed my cock in one hand and leaned backward, pushing my hips forward. Then, still joking around, I stroked my dick until it was hard and stood facing the mirror with my hands laced behind my head, wagging my dick back and forth. That's when I noticed something odd in the mirror. The garage door was open about six inches. But, I had made sure to close it. I leaned forward and grabbed my towel. Wrapping it around my waist, I turned to the door and opened it. Nobody there. But, glancing to the house, I saw that the screen door to the kitchen was still quivering, as if someone had just closed it. Strange, I thought to myself. I pulled my shorts on and headed into the house. All was quiet and dark. Grandma's door was closed. I shrugged, got a shower, and jumped into bed. The next day, grandma stopped by the Iron Shop to check on the progress. "Wow," she said with a smile as she entered. "This place looks different!" I gestured toward the interior. "Come on in. Check it out." Grandma walked by me in her sundress and flats. I caught a whiff of perfume. I showed her the new machine room, still waiting for machines. The weight room, already full of benches and weightstacks and lined with mirrors. I flicked the new recessed lighting on and off. And, finally, I led her to the small shower room in back. I had replaced the old lockers with new cubbies and put in three new shower installations. Grandma clapped her hands and leaned up on her toes to kiss me on the cheek. Her tiny hands pressed on either side of my face. "Oh, Frank," she beamed. "This is just incredible. It's beautiful. Just like your plans, only better!" I laughed. "Only one more big project. I've got to take out those old windows in front and put in something new." She nodded. "When will we open?" "I thought we'd open this weekend. But the machines are still on their way. I need to put in a new reception desk. And I've got to go pick up the new front windows." As I spoke, grandma wandered around the front room, twirling happily. "Are you ready for lunch?" she asked. I nodded. "If you're paying, I'm ready!" She clapped her hands together again. "Let's go!" I pulled off my overalls and grabbed my clean t-shirt off the floor. "Where to?" "Hmmmmm . . . " grandma said playfully, her eyes sparkling. "I know a great little place over in Carson." We jumped into grandma's old Taurus and peeled out of town. Not much later, we were sitting in the outdoor patio of a little cafe. The waitress, a high school girl, came over and took our order. Grandma grabbed my hand and gushed about all the work I'd done and how happy grandpa would be and how happy she was. I'd never seen her smile so brightly. And sitting there with my big paw in her two little hands and staring into her green eyes, I thought for a minute that we might be dating. It felt so intimate and equal. Like I was part of a couple. The waitress returned with our drinks. "Would your date like some lemon in her iced tea?" The waitress asked with a smirk. I looked at grandma, whose face broke out into a wide grin. I grinned back. "I think my date would," I answered. "She's a very demanding lady." Grandma giggled and the waitress guffawed. "I would be too," the waitress said, with a big smile. "If I had a guy like you." I laughed and blushed. "Oh, honey," grandma said to the waitress. "If you had a guy like him with you . . .you wouldn't need to be here. He's a worker!" The waitress smiled and returned to the kitchen. Grandma and I laughed together. With a peck on my cheek, grandma dropped me off at the Iron Shop. "See you for dinner," she said as she put the car in gear. "And, don't forget, workout tonight!" I waved to her as she drove off. I spent the few remaining hours removing the two old front windows of the gym. If anything, it was the hottest day so far in the summer, and the sweat poured off me. Once I'd yanked the old frames out, I nailed plywood over the openings. The guy at the supply store had told me the new windows would arrive tomorrow. I wanted to be ready. At home, grandma and I ate a quick dinner of salmon and brown rice. We changed into our workout gear and met in the garage. Grandma plugged in a fan she'd brought from the house. We checked out her progress log, made some adjustments, and she started jumping rope. I watched casually and started working out the timing of her schedule. With eight weeks before the Mrs. Atlas preliminary, we had to make sure she was in peak shape at just the right time. Suddenly, I heard grandma swear. She'd stopped jumping rope. "What's up?" I asked. "Oh Frank, I'm just too damned hot." "Tell me about it," I said. "It's almost too hot to workout." She paused and tilted her head in thought. "You know," she said, glancing up at me shyly. "When it was this hot, grandpa and I would do a little something else too cool down." I shrugged. "But," she continued. "If it grosses you out. We can just keep going until I explode in heat stroke." I laughed. "Go on." Grandma took a deep breath and looked down at the floor before raising her eyes to me. "We'd work out in the nude." I froze. Right after my jaw dropped. "In the nude," I repeated dumbly. Grandma nodded yes. Stammering, I said, "I d-d-don't knnnnn . . . " Grandma fluttered her hand. up and down. "It's okay, Frank," she said in a bolder, more assertive voice. "You don't have to. But if I'm going to keep on training tonight, I have to do something." I just stared at her. I was her trainer. And, I was her grandson. In the back of my mind, I remembered my hard cock in my hand as I jerked myself off in the bathroom the week before. Slowly, I began nodding yes. "Okay, I said. Yeah. No problem." Grandma smiled. "After all, although you're a future Mrs. Atlas. I am a professional trainer." I laughed weakly. Grandma giggled and began tugging her training top over her head. Her two perfect breasts popped free. I licked my lips. The were the size of peaches - - riding proud and perky on her chest and topped by beautiful rosy nipples. They bounced down to rest on her chest as she pulled her shirt up over her short silver hair. "Mmmmmm," she said, smiling shyly. "That's better." Then, she leaned down and pushed her boy shorts slowly down over her hips. I think I stopped breathing. Her waist tucked in gently from her torso and then flared out at her hips in a perfect imitation of violin's curves. I could see her thin, delicate pussy lips peeking out below her neat, trimmed short silvery bush. She wasn't a tall woman and her legs were short but compact and powerfully muscled. She kept her white athletic shoes on. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. She smiled at me, and tilted her right hip up gently. "Never seen a grown woman nude?" She teased me. I swallowed, my eyes still glued to her trim, curvy body. I could feel my loins starting to tingle. A weak smile crawled over my face. "Of course . . . Of course," I mumbled. She laughed. "Let's get going," she said as she reached for the jump rope. I sat back on an old desk and grabbed her workout notebook to cover my crotch. Grandma began skipping rope, her breasts bouncing gently up and down. Her eyes met mine and she smiled. "If I'm embarrassing you," she huffed. "I can turn around." I said nothing. She slowly turned as she jumped rope until I faced her backside. My eyes widened. Her ass was perfect - - two tight moons that sloped like cute hillocks flanging out from her waist. I gulped. This was going to be tougher than I thought. Grandma finished jumping rope and toweled her self off, taking a little extra time to run her towel between her breasts. I hopped up and prepared the weights for her first set of squats. The Iron Shop Ch. 03 She moved between the two vertical bars and positioned her shoulders under the bar. "Ready?" I asked, staring down at her straight, smooth shoulders and further down along the furrow of her spine to her swelling ass. She nodded and stepped up into the bar, lifting it off the hooks. The top of her head came to right above my chin. I could smell the rich, sweaty odor of her thick platinum hair. "Okay," I said, still standing behind her. "Form is key. Slow on the down, slow on the up. All the way down until your thighs are ninety degrees." She nodded curtly and began to lower her upper body. I slid my hands under the bar to make sure she didn't drop the weight. Her naked ass came within centimeters of my crotch as she descended. Ascending, she seemed to push her ass backwards - - her cheeks brushing against the front of my shorts. I sucked my breath in. Ten more reps - - ten more near death brushes with her naked ass, and grandma was coming into the homestretch. Her thighs were straining and her glutes - - basically, her ass muscles - - were pumped and tight. Despite my best efforts, my cock was slowly but steadily inflating against the tight lycra of my shorts. With a final grunt, grandma reseated the bar on the stand and stepped forward. Thing rivulets of sweat ran down her spine and glistened across her beautiful ass cheeks. I took a deep breath and shoved the workout log in front of my huge bulge. "Be right back," I called to her as I hustled out the door. I ran into the house and bolted into the bathroom. I knew that if I didn't relieve my engorged, swollen cock, I'd never get through the workout in one piece. Yanking my shorts down, I wrapped my hand around my dick and began jerking. Images of grandma's naked body flashed through my mind, and I focused on that small dell where the furrow between her back muscles met the rise of her ass cheeks. Seconds later, with a groan, I was spewing cum across the sink. I cleaned up the sink and toweled my crotch off, slid my trunks back up, and returned to garage. Grandma was sitting on the weight bench with a towel draped around her neck, each end barely covering her nipples. She smiled at me. "Frank," she said sweetly. "If it's too much for you, I can workout alone." "No, no," I muttered. "It's okay. It's all good. Just had to hit the head." "Great," she said, standing up from the bench. "Triceps next?" I nodded and flipped open the workout log. Needless to say, finishing grandma's routine required two more trips to the bathroom. Each time I returned, she greeted me with a smile. After, I took a long cold shower. I knew now that I would have to tell her to stop - - nude or half nude - - the sexual urges were too strong and too strange. I wanted her. But, that was sick. The Iron Shop Ch. 04 The next day, thinking ahead to my next workout with grandma and its effect on my raging hard-on, I called Mrs. Fabian in the late afternoon. "Hello," she answered her phone. "San Pietro Savings. Dolores Fabian." "Now," I growled into the phone. "Right now. I need you." I heard her gasp and then draw a deep breath. "Where are you, honey?" "Iron Shop," I muttered. There was a pause. "I'll pick you up in ten minutes. Around back." I put the phone down in the cradle and locked up the gym. By the time I had turned the key in the back door, Mrs. Fabian had pulled into the parking lot in her Volvo. I opened the door and slid into the front seat. She grabbed my thigh and squeezed it "Sweetie," she purred. "I need it bad too." We kissed hurriedly as she put the car back in gear. We ran every stop sign in San Pietro on the way to her big, fake tudor house on the town outskirts. She pulled into the garage and we hopped out of the car. "Jimmy gets home in a half hour," she said, grabbing my hand. and pulling me through the garage door. We stopped in the kitchen and I wrapped my arms around her waist. I pulled her skirt up over her hips, and as she whined and moaned, I ripped her panties down her legs. Two seconds later, I had my cock in hand and was plugging it into Mrs. Fabian's sopping wet pussy as she lay writhing in pleasure on the kitchen floor. She wrapped her big legs around my waist, and we fucked like animals, fast and furious. I pawed her breasts through her blouse and latched my mouth onto hers as I punished her pussy with my cock. Mrs. Fabian moaned and yelped and banged the floor with the palms of her hands. Just as I exploded deep inside her, we heard the front door open. I looked into her eyes, now wide with surprise. "Shit," I said. Mrs Fabian just smiled. I looked up to see a portly middle-aged guy in shorts and a polo shirt staring down at the two of us. I froze on top of Mrs. Fabian. The man's eyes widened, then narrowed. Slowly, a wicked smile crept across his face. Mrs. Fabian looked up at him too, still smiling. "Jimmy," she murmured. Jimmy's grin broadened. "Dolores," he said in a squeaky voice. "So this is the stud you told me about." Confused, I looked from Mrs. Fabian to Mr. Fabian. "Indeed, he is," Mrs. Fabian answered with a laugh. She smacked my ass with her hands. "What do you think?" Mr. Fabian stepped around to the side of our bodies. "Incredible," he said, running his eyes up and down my body. "Really, incredible. Superb." I felt Mrs. Fabian's hands running up and down my back. My deflated cock rubbed against her wet pussy. "Meet my husband, Frank. Jimmy, meet Frank." Mr. Fabian grinned again. "Please to meet you Frank." I looked down at Mrs. Fabian. "Oh, don't worry, honey," she whispered. "Jimmy and I have an understanding." I got to my knees and then stood up. Mr. Fabian's eyes were glued to my cock. "Help me up, sweetie," Mrs. Fabian huffed as she raised her arms to me. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her to her feet. She looped an arm around my neck and put her other hand on my naked chest. She gave me a peck on the cheek as she rubbed my chest. "Jesus, Dolores," Jimmy said, his face growing florid and sweaty. "Look at those muscles." Dolores beamed and squeezed my chest muscles. "Baby," she said to her husband. "He's Abby's grandson." Jimmy smacked his head with his hand. "Of course, Tom's grandson." Mrs. Fabian smiled and kissed my cheek again. "And," she purred, dropping her hand to my cock. "He's all ours!" Mr. Fabian grinned and squeezed his fat little hands together. "Hold on, folks," I said, casting my eyes around for my t-shirt. "I don't know what the fuck is going on here. But . . you two are definitely a couple of freaks." Mrs. Fabian pouted her lips together and continued rolling her hand around my now stiffening cock. "Well, sweetie," she said more to her husband than to me. "Of course we are. But, we can do things for you." She paused. "Maybe I should have done a more formal introduction. Frank, meet Mayor Fabian." My eyebrows shot up, and I looked at Jimmy's watery, thin eyes. He laughed. "Oh yeah, Frank," he squeaked. "We have plans for you." I spied my shirt on the kitchen chair to my right and twisted out of Mrs. Fabian's grasp to grab it. "I like fucking your wife, Jimmy," I said, with special emphasis on his name. "But I don't know what plans you're talking about." The Fabians laughed together. "Pull up your pants, son," Jimmy said. "And then think about all the construction work you're doing on the gym." I yanked my jeans up and fastened them. I crossed my big heavy arms in front of my chest. "Have you wondered," Jimmy said, motioning to Mrs. Fabian with his hand, "why nobody's asked you for permits yet? Or, why nobody's bugged you about filing tax forms?" I felt my ears burning. Mrs. Fabian strutted over to her husband's side. He draped a chubby arm around her shoulder. "We want to help you son. San Pietro looks kindly on new business and young entrepreneurs. But . . . " He paused and squeezed one of his wife's massive tits. "you're going to help us too. That's the way communities work." They beamed at me in unison. I turned and stalked out of the kitchen. "We'll be calling you," Jimmy shouted in his squeaky voice. "And you just let us know when you need us." I banged through the garage door and out into the hot sun. Bastards, I thought. That's why the line of credit went through so easy. She'd been up to no good from the very beginning. I trudged down the quiet suburban street, fuming. It took me twenty minutes to get back to the gym and another ten to make it home. Grandma was out. I took a shower and reconsidered the whole thing. Did I want to be trapped in some kind of freaky relationship with the Fabians? Images of Jimmy's fat face flashed before me. How far did their "help" go? For the first time in months, I felt like having a beer. Instead, I went for a jog. When I returned, grandma was home and preparing dinner. I ate in silence. "Are you okay?" Grandma asked me quietly at one point. I grunted and finished eating. "I'll meet you in the garage in fifteen minutes," grandma sang to me as I stood up from table. Jesus, I thought to myself as I walked back to my room, Another night of weirdness. Tension etched itself across my temples. My brain was shifting from frustration to anger. I had to be careful. A little later, changed into my training shorts and without a shirt, I opened the garage door. Grandma was nude, except for her running shoes. She beamed up at me from her seat on the bench. As I ran my eyes over her breasts, I thought my head was going to explode. How was a man supposed to react to all of this? My cock said: fuck her. My brain said: she's your grandmother. I stalked to the weight deck and pulled off a bunch of plates. Sometimes the only way to forget is to push all your frustration through your body. I clamped the weights onto a pair of dumbbells and carried them over to the bench. Grandma scooted out of the way, a twinge of fear flashing across her eyes. Silently I sat down and began cranking out a set of shoulder presses. Grandma turned and grabbed the jump rope. She began skipping rope on the other side of the garage, her breasts bouncing up and down. I dropped the weights with a sharp clang. Fuck it, I thought to myself. I stood and peeled my shorts off my hips and then off my feet. I stood in front of grandma with my feet spread and my hands on my hips. "Guess I'm getting kinda hot too," I said to her gruffly. The jump rope drooped to the floor. She looked at me with wide eyes. As I sat down, my back against the bench back and my legs spread on either side of the bench, I watched as she slowly walked her eyes up and down my body. She blushed. "Sure, baby," she said, picking the jump rope back up. "You'll be so much cooler." She smiled weakly. I picked the weights back up and began a set of superslow presses, my eyes glued to grandma's. I felt my cock begin to rise and, embarrassed, I turned away from grandma to peer sideways into the full length mirror on the wall. The sight of my shoulders bulging with exertion, my big thighs spread around the bench, and my cock starting to jut up from between my legs only made me get harder. I heard grandma's rope drop to the floor. She approached the bench, her upper chest flushed scarlet. A pearl of sweat rolled down her left breast and dripped onto the floor. My cock strained toward the ceiling. "Frank," she said, falteringly. "I told you before. I don't think your locking out your shoulders enough when you press." I grunted and stared at the cleft between her thighs. Her pussy lips were swollen now and sweat dribbled down through her bush. My cock was rock hard, poking straight toward her. "Show me," I spat out in a strangled voice. She smiled and walked to the end of the bench. Then she spread her legs and advanced toward me. Her sweat slicked thighs slid against the outside of mine until she was standing straight over my cock. Her face was burning red. She reached out and put a small, soft hand on each of my shoulder caps. "Like this," she whispered, pushing my shoulders back. I groaned as I lifted the weights. She pushed harder against my shoulders, and I saw her slowly start to lower her hips toward my cock. "That's right," she said, panting deeply. "Lift." I held the weights steady and slowly lifted my hips upward. The tip of my cock brushed against her pussy. Grandma closed her eyes and tilted her head upward toward the cieling. She bit her lower lip. "Yes," she mumbled and slowly pushed her hips downward further until I could feel the tip of my cock nestling into the soft, velvety flesh of her pussy. Grandma opened her eyes and looked down at me. She smiled beatifically. "It's not wrong, Frank," she said in a whisper as she lowered her silky pussy down over my cock. "It's not wrong, baby." I groaned and grandma squeezed my shoulders and dropped her pussy onto my cock. My dick was enveloped in a warm, delicious friction as she slid down onto my lap, her thighs straddling mine. I felt her ass cheeks settle down onto my crotch and her hands run up along my neck. I groaned again and dropped the weights to the floor. We sat there, frozen for seconds, shocked by the delicious pleasure of my cock stuffed tightly into her pussy and her sweaty skin pressed against mine. Grandma pushed her hands into my hair and pulled her lips down to mine. "I've wanted you baby," she gasped, her lips an inch from mine. "Since the day you came back." I hummed deep in side my chest and she pushed her lips onto mine. Our tongues met and slid together. It was like someone had flipped a switch somewhere. The taste of her tongue pushed me from absolute stillness into unchained energy. I wrapped my arms around her waist and she bowed her back forward to force her crotch even tighter to mine. I planted my feet on the ground and jerked my hips upward, driving her off her feet. With her mouth still glued to mine, she began swiveling her hips back and forth. We fucked like starved lovers, our bodies crashing together and blasting apart. Grandma rode my upward thrusts with her thighs clamped around my waist. Bearing down on her elbows, she jammed her hips down hard to meet my thrusts. Her fingers clenched my hair and she raised her head upward, gasping and moaning as we twisted and collided. My cock felt like a steel rod, and I bounced her furiously up and down. My hands squeezing each side of her hips pushed her down and raised her up, grinding her pussy energetically against my cock. She began to gasp in short, high-pitched squeaks and dropped her head to my shoulder. I felt her body tensing and relaxing until she finally collapsed with a groan onto me. I kept fucking. My hips drove my cock in and out of her while her body flopped up and down on top of me like a rag doll. "Yesssssss . . . " I heard her groan from deep in the back of her throat. "Yesssssss . . . ." I grabbed her ass in my hands and smashed it down onto my cock as I cranked my hips upward. Clamped onto my dick, I shook her body violently back and forth with my hips and hands. She groaned into my shoulder and dug her hands deeper into my hair. I grunted and twisted my hips frenetically up and down, grinding my cock into her pussy. She let out a gasp and relaxed her grip on my hair. With a shout, I felt my cock starting to open up like a faucet turning slowly. I gasped for air and dug my fingers into her firmly muscled ass. My cock burst with pleasure and, arching my back and opening my mouth for air, I spewed my load deep into her. As my cock twitched and jerked inside grandma's pussy, I slumped back onto the bench. Her body was dead weight on mine. I exhaled deeply and dropped my hands from her ass. Our two bodies were sealed together by pressure and sweat. I closed my eyes and felt every ounce of tension drain out of my body. Grandma's face rested on my shoulder. Except for our chests heaving together, neither one of us moved. We lay like that for ten or fifteen minutes, our breathing finally returning to normal. With a sigh, grandma raised her head and peeled her torso from mine. Sitting up, with my cock still inside her, she ran her hand across her forehead. I stared at her speechlessly. She smiled down at me and then softly stroked my cheek. She leaned down to kiss me and then nestled her head against my chest. I felt her hard nipples against my naked chest. Her hands gently squeezed and stroked my shoulders and upper arms. I rested my hands on her shoulder blades slick with sweat and gently massaged them. Minutes later, she kissed my neck and began unpeeling her body from mine. She pushed her hips backward and my cock popped out of her pussy. Sighing, she stood and gazed down at me with a smile. I reached up and stroked her thigh. She grabbed a towel from where it hung off the weight stack and dabbed it between her thighs. Then, she turned and walked unsteadily out of the garage. Her ass cheeks rose and fell gently as she strode away. I lay there stunned. I'd never felt so horny before. Never felt so wild with desire. I'd never climaxed like that, every nerve in my body coalescing around my cock. I looked down to my now limp dick lying across my thigh. Jesus, I thought. I need more of that. Slowly, I rose up off the bench and padded on bare feet toward the door. My body rippled with feeling and awareness. Every cell in my skin seemed to be registering the warm air, the dry concrete floor of the garage, the scents of the summer night, a faint breeze wafting through my hair. I stopped in the kitchen, twisted the sink faucet, and caught a pool of water in my cupped hands. The water filled my mouth with sweetness and slid down my throat. I felt completely alive and at peace. The bathroom door was open and the light was on. I entered the humid air and stepped into the tub. I took a quick shower, massaging the warm water into my skin and letting it drip through my hair. I dried off. Across the hall, grandma's door was open and her bedside light was on. I entered her room. She was lying on her back on the bed, her left knee raised slightly. She smiled at me and ran her palm across the sheets next to her. I walked in and lowered myself onto the bed next to her. She looped her arm around my neck and raised her body against mine. We kissed deeply and slowly. Her cool tongue pushed itself against mine, while my hand wandered idly up and down her spin and along the beautiful swell of her hips. I reached down and slid my hand along her inner thigh. Her kisses became more urgent. I lifted her thigh and pulled it on top of mine. My cock brushed against her silver bush. Grandma crammed her body tight against mine. I reached down and grabbed my cock, slowly pushing it toward the silky cleft between her legs. With a gasp, she raised her knee higher and my cock parted her lips. I pushed myself into her just past my cock head, enjoying the soft pressure of her pussy and our bodies together. I could feel her thigh muscles tightening, pulling my crotch tighter to hers. Moaning softly, I gently pushed my hips forward, slowly driving my cock deeper into her. Grandma pulled her lips off mine and wrapped her arm around my neck. She put her mouth to my ear, and I could hear her deep, full breaths against my ear. Her hand crept down across my shoulder blades and danced down my spine. She squeezed my ass and then pulled me more tightly into her. She gasped into my ear. Then, she pulled her face back until we were looking into each others' eyes. "It's not a bad thing, Frank," she whispered. "It's not a bad thing to have your cock inside me." I groaned and jammed my hips tighter to her crotch. Her leg looped around my ass, and she clenched her leg, locking me inside her. "I love your cock inside me," she said, panting softly as our bodies began to surge rhythmically together, her eyes still glued to mine. "I love the feel of you inside me." I mumbled something incoherent and felt my cock swelling inside her warm, silky pussy. She smiled and tilted her head back, her mouth open and gasping for air. "Yes, baby," she hissed softly. "You belong to me grandma now. Fuck me." I buried my mouth in her neck, kissing and licking and sucking, even as I pushed her over onto her back. Grandma raised her legs into the air, and I wrapped a hand around each ankle and jabbed my cock into her. She reached backward to grab the railings in the headboard and then pushed to meet my thrust. She looked up at me with a wide, sexy smile and then began rocking back and forth beneath me, riding my hard cock. Her abs ripples and twisted under her skin and her breasts bounced up and down her chest as she drove her pussy on and off my cock. I pushed her tiny feet onto my chest and she braced her legs against my body, her calf and thigh muscles straining as she bounced herself on my cock. I leaned back and pushed my hips forward, watching my cock play hide and seek with her cunt. I added my rhythm to her momentum and soon we had the whole bed rocking back and forth noisily. My cock grew impossibly hard and I lowered my torso to her body, her legs bending into a squat. I leaned my head down and kissed her nipples, then licked them, and then muzzled her full breasts with my mouth. Grandma moaned deeply and shook her head back and forth. The bed creaked and groaned. Pumping her arms up and down, grandma began to work her body harder and faster against my cock. I began to slam my hips downward faster and faster. And, soon, our two bodies were reduced to that one point of friction between our legs. The whole world seemed to collect around the point where my cock met her pussy and with a long, deep sigh, grandma wrapped her legs around my waist and squeezed hard. I felt her pubes scrape against mine as I jammed my cock all the way inside her and held it there, waiting for the tip of my cock to tingle with pleasure. Suddenly, grandma released one hand from the headboard, snaked it downward between our bodies, and wrapped it around my balls. She squeezed gently and then rolled my balls between her fingers. I shouted and my cock jerked in pleasure. Jets of cum flooded out of my cock and a wave of warmth and aching pleasure spread upward from my crotch. I groaned and my groan was met by grandma's deep moan of pleasure. I dropped onto her, wrapped my arms around her waist and rolled the two of us onto our sides, our crotches glued together. We stayed like that for ten minutes, riding out the last pulse of our orgasm. With a little sigh, grandma relaxed her pussy and my cock began sliding out of her. The Iron Shop Ch. 04 "Nooooo," grandma whispered. "Don't go . . . ." I laughed and kissed her. She ran her hands through my hair and I felt the warm air of the summer night on my damp cock. Grandma fastened her lips onto mine and drew her knees up into a ball, trying to hide herself in my bigger body. We kissed and sighed and kissed and hugged. We fell asleep in each others' arms. And, I woke in the morning to find grandma's svelte, firm body lying half on mine, her leg thrown over mine, her arm across my chest, and her face nestled on my shoulder. I folded my arm across her back, gazed out at the gathering dawn, and fell right back to sleep. I woke a couple of hours later alone on the bed but accompanied by the comforting sound of the radio on in the kitchen and the appetizing smell of bacon and eggs. It was going to be a good day. Grandma and I didn't talk about what happened that night. We didn't have to. We loved each other - - in every humanly possible way. When I thought about it, I thought about grandma's need to be loved and protected. She'd just been a farm girl when grandpa met her. And, in a household devoted to the body, physical comfort and communication was probably as important as any other kind. The day after I made love to her, I got back to work on the gym. Everything was in place, and I paced back and forth in the rear parking lot waiting for my new plate glass windows. They arrived a little past ten. I paid one of the delivery guys twenty-five bucks to help me frame them in. I caulked and sealed them and then started painting the front of the gym. I'd taken down grandpa's "Mr. Atlas" banner and had a new one printed up. It read: "Home of Tom Rossi Five-Time Mr. Atlas." It looked nice. I finished attaching the new banner, did a quick clean up, turned off all the lights, and locked up. At home, grandma was making dinner. I bustled into the kitchen and swept her up in a big hug. "My lord, Frank," she gushed. "What's going on?" I kissed her and hugged her tighter. "It's ready!" I whispered in her ear. She squeaked in delight. "Put me down, you big musclehead," she laughed. "Come on, Gran," I said, still holding her hands. "Come down and check out the new Iron Shop!" Grandma raised her hands and giggled. "Hold on," she said. "Let me change into something nice for the . . . grand opening!" I laughed. "More like the private opening . . . we'll save the grand opening for Monday." A few minutes later, grandma emerged from her room dressed in athletic shoes, a tight, short skirt and a skintight camisole. I opened the car door for her and we drove to the gym. Both of us were excited and jittery. Grandma chattered the whole way to main street. "Close your eyes," I ordered as I drove up to the gym. She put her hands over her eyes, and I pulled the car up in front of the gym. I popped open the door, ran around to her side, opened the door, and guided her out of the car. I positioned her on the sidewalk in front of the gym. "Now!" I said. "Look!" She pulled her hands off her eyes and her face lit up. She clapped her hands involuntarily and almost jumped up and down. "Oh my goodness," she shouted. "It's beautiful!" She turned and jumped into my arms and I gave her another big hug. "Come on," I said, leading her to the front door and unlocking it. "Wait until you see the inside." I pulled the door shut behind us and flicked on the lights. She gasped and turned her head from left to right. The place was spotless. The front room was full of exercise machines - - rowers, treadmills, and ellipticals in orderly rows. Mirrors lined both walls. Through the opening that divided the two rooms, you could see the weight room - - a room designed for serious lifters. Top-of-the-line benches and weight stacks. A few nautilus stations and a couple of squat cages. "Oh my lord, Frank," grandma gasped. "Wow." I walked back to the desk built along the opening that divided the rooms and flipped on the stereo. A beautiful, crisp surround sound version of the Boss's "Candy's Room" boomed out through the gym. "Check this out," I said, as I fiddled with the knobs. "For the ladies." The Bee Gees "Stayin' Alive" played in the front room. "And for the gents." Boston's "More than a Feeling" filled the weight room. Grandma laughed and clapped her hands. I took her by the hand and dragged her to the new shower room and she clapped and jumped again. I showed her the new state-of-the-art computer on the front desk - - programmed for membership records. And, then I pulled out a bottle of champagne from the mini-fridge under the desk. I popped it open and poured two cups. "Congratulations, grandma!" I said as I raised my glass to toast. "Congratulations, Frank," she answered, raising her glass. We tipped our cups together and drank champagne. I noticed grandma getting teary eyed. "Gran," I said, grasping her wrist. "What's the matter?" "Oh sweetheart," she said, smiling through her tears. "Tom would be so proud. I just know he's up there somewhere smiling down at us . . . at you." She began to cry a little. I reached up and wiped her tears away. "He is grandma. And, he's happy for us." I pulled her into my arms. "It's time to celebrate everything. Grandpa's legacy. Your faith in me. My hard work." I kissed her gently. Then released her from my hug. "Let's dance!" Again, I fiddled with the sound system until I had the CD with disco songs on it and then punched play. A low rumbling bass started winding its way through the gym and I started breaking out my best boogie-down moves. Grandma laughed and started shaking her hips. We drank the rest of the champagne. Then, I opened another bottle. As we sipped the rest of our champagne and danced, I turned the lights down lower. An extended version of Donna Summers' "Love to Love You" came on the sound system. I pulled grandma's cup out of her hand and put both our cups on the desk. Grandam wrapped her arms around my neck, I put mine around her waist, and we started slow dancing. Grandma clung to me as we swayed together. She nuzzled my neck with her soft lips, and I dropped my hands to her ass, patting and squeezing it. Her nuzzling grew more insistent. Slowly, I pulled her skirt down over her hips and pushed it to the floor. She moved her lips over my cheek and onto my mouth. We held each other close as our tongues unrolled into each others' mouths. Grandma dropped her hands to my jeans and unsnapped them as we kissed. I smiled as I felt her soft, delicate fingers wrap themselves around my cock and begin stroking. I reached up and pulled her camisole straps down off her shoulders. She was braless, and my hands went to her firm, full breasts, squeezing and rubbing them. Her nipples grew hard and erect under my fingers. We kept swaying together as I felt my cock turning into wood in her hands. Grandma sighed. I leaned down and scooped her into my arms, our mouths still crushed together. With my big dick flapping back and forth, I carried her over the padded bench by the wall and laid her down gently. She looked up at me with a smile and eyes dazed with desire. As I stepped out of my jeans, she sat up and reached out for my cock. She pulled me by my cock closer to her. She looked up once - - her sweet smile turned to something more lascivious and lewd - -and then stuffed my cock into her mouth. I groaned as I watched my thick joint disappear between her lips. I put my hands into her hair and pushed her warm, hot, hungry mouth deeper onto my cock. Grandma grunted and began sucking and slurping, hungry for as much of me as she could fit into her mouth. I leaned backward, offering up my cock, and she ran her hands across my abs in circles. My groans excited her and she began attacking my cock with her hands and her mouth. I pushed her lips hard onto my cock and, grunting with pleasure, she shook her head back and forth. "Oh shit, grandma," I grunted. "I'm gonna cum." "Mmmmmmmmm," she moaned, tilting her head downward, gulping me in deeper, and lightly rubbing my balls. With a gasp, I felt my cock dilate in a burst of pleasure. Cum shot outward. Grandma gagged and pulled her mouth back to the tip of my cock. Cum leaked and dripped from the side of her lips. I could see her smiling as her hands gripped my hips. She looked up at me, her chin and lips messy with my cum. Looking into my eyes, she swallowed. And then swallowed again. I groaned. Grandma pulled her mouth off my dick and began licking it up and down, trying to clean every drop of cum off my still rigid cock. "Muaaaaah," she said finally, scooping up a pearly drop of semen with her pinky. "So delicious." She popped her finger in her mouth and sucked it clean. I pulled her up and thrust my tongue into her mouth, the taste of my cum rolling off of her tongue onto mine. She crammed her mouth against mine and wrapped her arms around my neck, clinging to me. I reached down and yanked her panties off. I slid my middle finger between her wet pussy lips and then grabbed my dick. I shoved it deep inside her as she wrapped her legs around my waist. Pushing her back against the mirrored wall, I began humping my hips back and forth, banging her back and forth against the wall. She groaned and dug her hands into my hair. "Yes, baby," she moaned, shaking her head back and forth, her hair flying around her face. "Fuck me." I turned around and leaned against the mirrored wall, pistoning her up and down on my cock. She groaned and stared at my back and ass in the mirror. "Oh fuck," I shouted. "I love your pussy." She raked her fingernails across my back and began shaking her ass up and down. We were sweating and straining against each other. I leaned my head down and nibbled on grandma's ear. With a tiny whoop, she jammed her pussy down hard on my cock and wiggled her hips. "Ohhhhhhhhhh," she half-murmured, half-sighed. "Yes, baby. Make me cummmmmmm." I grunted jerked my hips upward, driving my cock deeper into her. I held her there, impaled on my cock as I felt her body quiver and tremble. Her fingers dug into my back and her thighs clamped my body. Her pussy seemed to vibrate around my cock. With a deep sigh, she pushed her lips into my cheek and my hair, smothering me with kisses. I relaxed my body. My cock was still hard and grandma slid off of it to her feet. "Oh baby," she cooed. "You need to cum." Dropping to her knees, she crammed my cock between her pert, full tits and began rubbing them up and down my cock. As my cock head popped up from between her tits, she leaned down and licked it. I looked down, watching my grandmother worshipping my cock. I pushed my fingers into her hair. Feeling my balls starting to tighten, I hunched over and jammed my dick between the sweaty, soft skin of her tits and erupted in a spray of cum. It splashed her face, her eyes, and her hair. She smiled and grabbed my cock, milking it with her cum-slicked hands. I spurted and spurted, spraying cum all over her. "Oh my god," she murmured. "Yes, baby, give it all to me." With a final groan, I collapsed back onto the bench, my dick sliding out from between her hands. "Holy Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," I sighed. "What are you doing to me?" Grandma laughed and stood. "Look what you've done to me," she giggled, wiping my cum off her face and her hair. We laughed together and she hopped onto my lap. We kissed and hugged and then separated. "We better clean up this mess," she said. "Before the board of health shuts us down." I smiled and stood up. "You hit the the showers, lady," I said. "I'll get the towels and mop this mess up." Grandma kissed my cheek and flounced off toward the shower room. I grabbed a couple of clean towels from a stack against the wall and began wiping down the bench and the floor. Ten minutes later, grandma came out of the shower room looking fresh and clean. She pulled her clothes back on and I found my jeans and t-shirt. Pulling my shirt over my head, I watched as grandma wandered around the gym, her hand trailing in wonder over the equipment. "It's gorgeous," she turned and blurted out to me. "It's good," I said. "Let's hope it's good enough to make some money." She giggled. I turned off the sound system, checked the back door, and grabbed grandma by the hand. I flipped the lights off and led her outside. She leaned a hand on my back as I locked the front door. I turned around and she put her arms around my neck and gave me a deep, wet kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," she murmured. "I love you." "I love you too, grandma," I said as I put my arm around her waist and steered her back to the car. The Iron Shop Ch. 05 Grandma and I were twisted together on her bed. The bright morning sun blasted through the windows. My swollen cock was buried deep inside her warm, silky pussy and I massaged one of her thick nipples between my fingers. Only minutes before, we'd been asleep, spooned against each other, grandma's luscious ass parked against my crotch. I'd awakened to her velvety fingers sliding across my balls. As my cock hardened, I kissed her sleepily on the neck. "Morning, beautiful," I whispered into her ear before kissing my way along her neck. Grandma's smile widened as she slid my thick, hard cock into her damp pussy. I gasped at the perfect fit and she drove her ass gently backward, pushing me deeper inside her. "Good morning, baby," she whispered back as we started rolling against each other in a slow, sensuous rhythm and I dropped my hand to cup her breast. She sighed, squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure, and stretched her arms forward to grasp the newels on the headboard of the bed. The doorbell rang. We paused and grandma's eyes opened wide. "Forget it," I whispered. "It's probably just crazy Henry from next door asking to borrow the lawn mower." Grandma smiled again, arched her back, and returned to our slow, sensuous fuck. The doorbell rang again, and then again. Pretty soon, we heard somebody pounding on the front door. "Ohhhhhh," grandma sighed in disappointment as she popped herself off my cock and scrambled out of bed. "You stay here baby. I'll be right back." She wrapped herself in a robe and left the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her. I rolled onto my back and smiled down at my cock, still pointing directly up at the ceiling. I laced my fingers behind my head and waited. I heard voices from the front room, friendly at first. Then, they grew more animated and intense. A moment of silence followed, and I smiled to myself in anticipation of grandma's return. The doorknob turned and the door flew open. My smile collapsed. There, standing in the doorway, was Mrs. Fabian, dressed in her bank manager's black suit, her hands on her broad hips. "Well, I'll be damned," she whispered, her eyes growing large. "I suspected as much. I truly did." She grinned wickedly. "Why, Abby . . . " she said in a mocking tone. "Look who I found in your bed." I saw grandma's frightened, flushed face peering over Mrs. Fabian's substantial shoulders. "Look, look," Mrs. Fabian said, pulling grandma in front of her. "It's your hunky grandson. And . . .he's nude!" Grandma's eyes widened in fear. "And, he's got a huge hard-on!" Mrs. Fabian cackled. Grandma hung her head. She looked like she was about to cry. I jumped off the bed and grabbed grandma, pulling her into the room. I pushed Mrs. Fabian out of the doorway and shut the door behind me. "What the fuck," I snarled in a low voice. "What are you doing here?" Mrs. Fabian continued to smile. "Oh, you needn't worry about that. I just came by to visit my old friend, Abby." The mayor's wife sashayed on her high heels into the living room. I followed, my cock now flapping between my thighs. Mrs. Fabian turned to face me. "And imagine my surprise when I smelled something distinctive on Abby. A certain . . . how should I say . . perfume." She cackled again. "Imagine my greater surprise," she continued, raising two fingers to her lips in mock surprise. "When I found Abby's grandson naked on her bed and his big cock standing straight up like a flagpole." I covered my cock with my hands. Mrs. Fabian's big tits rolled with laughter. "Oh Frank," she continued, lowering her voice. "This creates all kinds of possibilities. Oh my, yes. Wait until I tell Jimmy what I've discovered." I gulped. "You wouldn't." "Oh, I would," Mrs. Fabian replied sharply. "I would and I will." "You bitch," I snarled again. "Now, now," Mrs. Fabian replied cooly, collecting her purse from a chair in the living room. "No need to be so rude. But . . . do expect a phone call later." With that, she turned briskly and opened the front door. "Toot-a-loo," she said, grinning, as she shut the door behind her. In the bedroom, grandma was a mess - - sobbing, hiding her face in her hands, her shoulders slumped. "It's okay, grandma," I whispered, trying to comfort her. "She doesn't know anything. She's just a rude old bitch." "She'll ruin us now," grandma sobbed. I patted her on the shoulder and rubbed her back. "It will be okay. You'll see. I'll take care of it." "I knew it was wrong," grandma continued. "I just knew it. But I love you so. . . . Now we'll be punished." I gently nudged grandma back into the bed and pulled the sheet up to her waist. I stroked her thick, rich silver hair. "Relax," I whispered. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of everything. Everything will be fine." Her sobs subsiding, grandma weakly nodded her head and turned over on her side away from me. I sighed and left the bedroom. An hour later, with grandma fitfully sleeping in the bedroom, I was sipping a cup of coffee when the phone rang. I picked it up. "Well, Frank," Jimmy Fabian said, wheezing. "Looks like you're in quite a pickle." "Fuck you," I hissed at him. He laughed. "Imagine if word gets out that Frank is banging his grandmother, the owner of the Iron Shop. What do you think that might do in a small town like San Pietro?" I growled. "Settle down, big boy," Jimmy wheezed back into the phone. "Settle down. I have an idea. Something that will make sure Dolores forget all about her little surprise this morning." I sat down. "What idea?" Jimmy talked at me for fifteen minutes. "Okay, okay," I finally grunted into the phone. "Fine. If you guarantee she'll keep her mouth shut." "I keep my promises," Jimmy replied. "I have to talk to grandma," I answered. "I'll call you back." Jimmy laughed. "Good luck, slugger." Then, he hung up. I poured another cup of coffee and filled another cup for grandma. I padded down the hallway and knocked gently on the door. She murmured something. Quietly, juggling the coffee cups in my hands, I turned the knob and entered her bedroom. "I've got a solution," I said quietly. "If you trust me, everything will be okay . . . in the end." Grandma sat up in the bed and smiled at me weakly. ******************************* Almost twelve hours later, grandma and I were at the Fabians' house. We both wore short bathrobes and black satin eye-masks. Grandma's eyes flickered nervously at me. I squeezed her shoulders and kissed her gently. "Trust me," I whispered. She nodded, almost trembling with fear and, perhaps, something else. Jimmy opened the door to the guest room where we waited and motioned to me. "Ready?" He asked eagerly, patting me on the shoulder. I nodded yes as I clenched and unclenched my fists. He guided me through the darkened house to the living room. A single candle stood on an end table against the far wall. The room was eclipsed by darkness and shadows. Jimmy guided me slowly toward the center of the big, high-ceilinged room. He squeezed my arm and retreated into the darkness. "Meet, Tom." Jimmy's voice echoed across the room. "He's a young guy. And, like most young guys, he's just horny as hell." A low wave of tittering rose up from the shadows. Slowly, the track lights overhead brightened. Through the eyeholes of my mask, I saw about a dozen or more people seated on high backed chairs in a semicircle around me. Half were men and half were women. They too wore white, terrycloth robes and eye-masks. I recognized Mrs. Fabian, a beaming smile plastered across her face, seated in the front row. "Problem is . . . " Jimmy continued, from somewhere outside the arch that separated the living room from the hallway. "The only halfway decent-looking broad he knows around here is his grandmother." The audience drew in their collective breaths and shifted in their chairs. Jimmy entered from the archway, leading grandma toward me with a firm grasp on her upper arm. "And it's true," he said, grinning. "Tom's grandmother is one hot momma." He paused and swept his eyes around the room as he and grandma neared me. "Or should I say . . . one hot grandmomma." Nervous, anxious smiles lit up on the faces of the audience. Jimmy led grandma to a spot directly in front of me. I reached out and grasped her soft hand in mine. Jimmy leaned in and whispered. "You know how it's going to go. Right? No problems." I nodded at him as I drank in the sight of grandma in the robe that ended midway down her taut, sleek thighs, the sash of the robe tightened around her thin waist, and her firm breasts pushing up from within the folds of white cloth. Grandma smiled grimly at me. I smiled back at her as warmly as I could. I dropped grandma's hand and undid the sash around my waist. I shrugged off the robe and stood there naked, my hands at my side. My cock jutted out in front of me - - already swollen and fat. I flexed by upper body a bit - - muscles popping out along my shoulders and upper arms. Grandma glanced up and down my body, and her eyes fastened onto my cock. Out of the edges of my sight, I saw the jaws of the audience members slowly start to drop. Fuck this, I thought to myself. If they want a show, we'll give them a fucking show. I reached out and pushed the robe off grandma's shoulders. Her two perfect breasts emerged into view. Each no bigger than a pear. Her nipples were hard, and I saw her chest rising and falling with fear - - or something else. I pushed her robe further down, over her hips, until it fell to the floor. Grandma stood before me naked. The audience gasped. I smiled and wrapped my hand around my cock, stroking it slowly up and down. Grandma blushed. Then, I knelt in front of her, my lips only inches from her neatly trimmed bush. I twined my hands around her hips and onto her tight ass and squeezed. Grandma's gasp was echoed by the audience's. I pushed my lips into her bush and kissed it while I massaged her ass cheeks. Grandma moaned and I felt her body shiver. I licked her pussy slowly up and down. And then, with a growl, I glued my mouth to her pussy lips and slid my tongue up and down her velvety groove. Grandma gasped again and dropped her hands to my shoulders to steady herself. I ate grandma's delicious, sweet pussy with gusto - - pulling her by her ass cheeks onto my probing and darting tongue as it lashed back and forth over her clit. She began moaning deeply. As I tongue-fucked her pussy, she swayed her hips back and forth to meet my hungry mouth. Her thighs vibrated and her fingernails dug into my shoulders. When she was sopping wet, her juices dribbling over my chin, I stood up. Without hesitating, grandma wrapped her arms around my neck and plunged her tongue into my mouth. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close, my cock sliding between our bodies. Kissing each other more and more hungrily, grandma's body began rocking against me more furiously. I pulled my lips off of hers, placed my hands on her shoulders, and gently pushed her downward onto her knees. She stared up at me, panting, as her body slid down along mine. Then, with a gasp of surprise, she locked her eyes onto my cock. A smile spread across her lips and she coiled her hands around the shaft of my cock. She looked up at me once and then slid my cock slowly and deliberately between her lips. She gurgled and groaned deep in her throat as she sucked all of my long, hard cock into her eager mouth. With a kind of high-pitched whinny, she clamped her face onto my cock and then began enthusiastically bobbing her head up and down on my glistening dick. I looked out at the audience with my hips flexed forward and my hands behind my back. They were all in various states of arousal and excitement. One old, fat guy in the front row was furiously pulling on his thin flaccid cock. The woman next to him was digging her fingers in and out of her pussy. Mrs. Fabian had slid down her chair, her thighs wide open, as she frenetically jammed both of her hands against her clit. I smiled and pulled grandma up and off my cock. She resisted, her mouth gaping hungrily toward my cock and her hands still squeezing it tightly. As she stood, I drove my tongue into her mouth and slid my hands under her ass. I lifted her up until she wrapped her muscular legs around my waist. My cock waggled up and down against the bottom of her ass. With a grunt, grandma pulled her arm from around my neck, reached down, and stuffed my cock into her juicy pussy. I groaned in response as I felt the moist, smooth walls of her cunt wrap around my cock. Our mouths still glued together, grandma looped her arm back around my neck. I pulled grandma's ass up and down on my cock and she began swinging her legs in rhythm with me. Pumping her up and down with my arms, grandma used her legs and arms to bounce herself on and off my cock. She pulled her mouth from mine and pressed her head hard against my cheek. It was pure, athletic fucking, two animals unleashed on each other, humping together in absolute abandon and pleasure. My cock felt electric and powerful; my muscles stretched and rippled. Grandma panted faster and harder into my ear. She moaned deep in her throat and then suddenly thrust her tongue into my ear while tightening her calves against my back. I groaned and drove my cock deep into her, jamming her ass onto it and freezing my body. Her body seemed to spasm from her shoulders down to her thighs. She arched her back and a deep half-sigh, half-moan traveled from her chest into the now quiet room. I answered with a deep growl as my cock, completely embedded within her, exploded in a burst of intense, searing pleasure. Squeezing her ass tighter, I ground and wiggled my hips into grandma's crotch, desperately trying to prolong the incredible feeling of climaxing inside her. Grandma tightened her arms around my neck and buried her lips in my neck. Sweat cemented our bodies together, and as we rode our perfect, shared orgasm back down to earth, I glanced over at our audience. Some were cumming themselves, others just stared at us slackly, evidence of their pleasure dripping and spilling from cocks and cunts. Mrs. Fabian, her head thrown back over her chair, was gasping deeply, her fingers still hidden within her pussy. I shut my eyes as my cock, now deflated, slid out of grandma's pussy. Grandma whimpered quietly and I shifted her in my arms, holding her like a newlywed bride. She gazed up at me with dazed eyes and a beatific smile. Slowly, I carried her out of the room and back to the guest room we entered from. Feeling woozy and high, we dressed and held hands as we walked back to the Fabian's front door. Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. But, I didn't care. I felt like I had moved to another planet - - my body glowing, my brain quiet, my worries gone. Grandma and I drove home and enjoyed a gentle, quiet bath together. Kissing each other playfully, we wandered back into grandma's bedroom and collapsed onto her big, soft bed. I held her in my arms as we drifted off to sleep. I woke early in the morning, grandma's beautiful, luscious body splayed across mine. Gently rolling her onto the mattress, I slipped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to make some coffee. The phone rang. "Incredible, kid," Jimmy rasped into the phone. "That was fucking incredible." "What do you want, Jimmy?" I replied. Jimmy laughed. "I wanted to give you your wages and tips." "What?" "Yeah, that's right," he said. "You didn't think that was a free show, did you?" I paused in confusion. "50-50," Jimmy continued. "You come by and pick up your 750 bucks when you want. It's here waiting for you." He laughed. "I think we should make this a regular thing." I hung up. But, for the next month, that's exactly how grandma and I enjoyed our regular Friday dates - - fucking each other madly to a paying audience in the Fabians' living room.