22 comments/ 41987 views/ 46 favorites The Marital Bed By: Tx Tall Tales ======================= He loves her family, one of them, perhaps too much. Several years ago, I read Penasweapon's My Perverted Life, and it gave me an idea for a story, which I jotted down. It's taken quite a while to get it finished, my original notes are from 2010, so it's been percolating a while. The Alzheimer's and dementia described isn't wholly accurate, sadly, I'm familiar with what's it's really like, but I took a little artistic license to further the story. Please forgive me and I hope you enjoy it. This is an entry in the 2015 Summer Lovin' contest. ======================= Let me say this up front. I love my wife. I adore her. Meeting her was the best thing that ever happened to me. Hell, I love her whole family, who took me in and loved me like I was their son. They mean the world to me. Maybe that's how I got in this predicament. I had nobody growing up. I was a foster kid, shunted around from home to home. I had difficulty relating to people, and trust was impossible. I had girls in high-school, and more in college. I enjoyed the relationships, and loved the sex even more. But none lasted very long. I had trust issues, I couldn't commit, and I was always suspicious. I guess I wasn't very good boyfriend material. Somehow, Dana didn't understand that. I met her in a study group. I was doing alright, but she was the star of the group. She was attractive in a nerdy kind of way, but goodhearted and kind. I could write a hundred pages of how we came to be, but I would only look like an ass, and she'd get even more sympathy. Suffice it to say, I couldn't drive her off, no matter how rotten or inconsiderate I was. And she got to me like nobody ever did. It's like the Jack Nicholson movie. She made me want to be a better man. She had the patience of Job, and the persistence of Sisyphus. I couldn't understand why, but then again, I didn't understand love. It took her five long years to teach me. She changed me. Made a man out of me. Not a manly jerk, but a real man. She wasn't alone in doing it. She had help. Her mother adored me, God only knows why. Her father took to me like I was his long lost son and best buddy. He taught me the manly arts, which I'd never been privy to. We worked on cars, and I learned why an open end crescent wrench was called a knuckle buster. I found out how hard it was to get the grease out from under your nails, or how it tried to take up permanent residence in the wrinkles on your knuckles. I learned there was more to alcohol than whatever was on tap, from Roger. Both he and his father, my wife's grandfather, took me out fishing for the first time. They were patient, and I trusted them enough that I wasn't afraid to look the fool. I learned the proper way to tie a fishing knot, the strange naming of hook sizes and how to select the right one, where to look for the fish, the times of day, the effect of weather, of storms, of warm spells. I learned how to set a hook after a nibble, and how to release a fish without hurting it, to be caught another day. Dana's grandfather William, Bill, had been a carpenter. He welcomed me into his shop. The day after I got engaged he taught me how to use a lathe, a plane, a sander, the belt saw. He instructed me on the value of caring for your tools, how to sharpen a chisel and a saw blade. He showed me how a dovetail works, and how to build something that lasts. Roger would visit, and the three of us would talk, but it was my duty to do all the work. I'd listen to their advice, and practice on lesser pieces, while my masterpiece slowly evolved. Nine long months I worked on it whenever I could, more than half of that spent on the intricate carving. I finished with less than a week to go, all of their lessons coming together. I felt better about creating that one piece by hand than I had about anything I'd ever done in my entire life. When I took my wife home, the night of our wedding, she knew what it was. She was speechless, and in tears. "All yours?" she asked. "Ours. All ours. Forever." She took my hand, and pulled me along. The bed was massive, a four-poster, hand-crafted headboard, with our names carved into it. She ran her hand across the blank raised space beneath. "Our children?" she asked, her voice cracking. I nodded. "I saw your father's. It's incredible." She shook her head, pressing her face against the stained oak. "No, this one's even better. I can't believe you did this." Dana let go of my hand, which she'd clutched from the moment we entered our bedroom, the huge king-sized bed filling most of the space. She ran her hands down the wood, following the curves of the six foot tall hand-turned posts. She inspected the joints, tested the drawers built into the frame, opened the chest which was attached to the foot of the bed. She looked under the lid, breathing in the cedar smell, examining where I'd tacked down the padded leather seat on top. Every little detail, she took her time to examine and praise. She found her father's sole contribution, on one end of the cedar chest, a carving of a man in a rocking chair, with a girl sleeping on his lap. She had to stop for a moment to get her tears under control. Her grandfather's addition was less subtle. An incredibly accurate portrait of my wife, her mother, and her grandmother, all around the same age, when they got married. They were beautiful women, and he captured them perfectly. I was jealous of his craft, and grateful for his tutelage. It was their tradition, for the man to build his marital bed by hand, and to customize it for his wife. I had poured my love for her into the work, and it showed, in ways I could never verbalize. She turned to me, her eyes shining, and hugged me. "You, Logan Sawyer, are worth every bit of fight it took me to land you," she said, smiling. "Now wait here." She left me, confused, standing in my wedding tux, alone. She was only gone a minute, before she returned with a huge wrapped bundle, an inch wide red ribbon holding it shut. "My wedding gift to you." I opened it, and found what she'd spent her time on while I was working on our bed. It was a huge hand-quilted bedspread. Many of the squares had needlepoint designs. All the dreams we had discussed were displayed, a large house with a white pipe fence, the New York City skyline, a beach sunset, the Eiffel tower, more than a dozen altogether. As I studied each one, recognizing the hours of labor that went into them, I was humbled. I started recognizing the tiny initials, indicating which ones her mother, her sister, and her grandmother had contributed. It was masterful. She showed me how it could be used to hold a down insert in the winter months, and used empty as a simple bedspread when it was warmer. I could see the pride when she pointed out the details I was too ignorant to understand. What I did know was that it was equal to the gift I'd given her, if not more. She helped me remove the bedspread I'd bought. Her father's insistence that I buy something inexpensive, since she'd want her own linens and spreads, now made sense. We left the sheets on, but put our wedding quilt over the bed. We stepped back and took it in. It was us. I was the rough hard wood, slowly shaped into something worthy of her. Aided by her family. She was the beautiful quilt, dozens of different pieces I had slowly learned to understand, melded into a thing of beauty, all her secrets exposed. She covered me, hiding my faults, protecting me, completing me. We had been lovers for over four years, but that night, on that bed, under that cover, it all changed. I was home. Throughout our years together, that bed was our savior more times than I care to recall. When we'd fight, all we had to do was sit on our bed, reminded of the love and patience, our family, our goals, our intentions. I'd caress the spread, examining the new pieces she'd added over the years, our three children, the Alaska cruise, our favorite little B&B. She'd touch the headboard, with each new name carved in. I'd apologize; she'd insist she was wrong. And we'd forgive each other in her family's way, on that bed. Most of the family get-togethers were at her grandparent's home. They had a big old house, with a huge chunk of land in the heart of the newest, most desirable suburb. It had been country when I met Dana. But the city had grown to absorb them. It was a place of serenity, in the middle of insane growth and bustling activity. We met as a family often. Her sister had been married once, and had no children. Our three, two sons and a daughter were loved and spoiled enough for any dozen children. Her father, grandfather and I were best friends. We fished, we hunted, we worked in the garage, or in the old man's carpentry shop. I learned so much from them, I could never pay them back. They gave me something I'd never expected to have growing up, something I'd given up on. A family. The women were good to me. Affectionate, caring, thoughtful, and protective of Dana and my relationship. When I fucked up, and it was more often than I care to admit, they would sit me down, and tell it like it is. They loved me enough to be brutally honest when needed, and to gently guide me when appropriate. I was reminded of our wedding quilt, which Dana studied regularly, looking for problems, fixing anything before it got too bad. That was our marriage, and we had a loving family which helped ensure no string unraveled, no gaps appeared, and nothing was torn. Some might call it meddling, but I never considered it that. Alright, I might have on a few occasions, but I never dwelt on it. I understood it was done out of love. I love my wife, and I loved her entire family, all three generations, as if they were my own, the family I never had, that welcomed me with open arms and filled a gap in my heart I hadn't known existed, until Dana. * * * We'd been married twelve years. I was thirty-seven, she was thirty-five. Our oldest, Bill, was eleven, Roger was nine, and our angel Caroline, named after Dana's mother, was six. My wife had fought me on the names, but it was one time when I wouldn't back down. I would honor the men and women who had raised her, and loved us, and I wouldn't set foot in our bedroom until it was settled, knowing how often I lost an argument once we were in bed. I did give in a little on Caroline. I wanted to name her Dana, after my wife, and her grandmother who she was named after. She didn't want to name her daughter after herself, and offered Caroline, which was the one time I compromised. Dana's father had just retired, and we were all concerned about our grandparents. Her grandmother seemed to be suffering from memory loss, and we were starting to see the first symptoms of Alzheimer's. It was devastating. We did all the medical tests, visited an array of doctors, and tried different medications. They seemed to help a little, but it was sad to see her slipping away. We didn't talk around it, in denial. It was not our family's way. We were honest with her, and with each other, as much as it hurt. We all helped where we could. Dana, her sister and her mother took over much of the cooking and cleaning, spending considerable time over there. The kids were weekend fixtures, and Grandma loved to have them around. Nothing made her happier. Dad and I, along with the two namesakes, handled chores, yard work, errands, car work, whatever was needed. Grandpa always insisted he could handle it, but more and more of his time was being spent with Grandma. I worked from home much of my time, as a software contractor, and whenever an emergency popped up at the old homestead, I was happy to deal with it. We only lived a couple of miles away, in one of the new neighborhoods that seemed to pop up two or three times a year where we were. The men still went out together, five of us now, for an occasional fishing trip, a day hike, or some hunting. I watched Dad and Grandpa impart their wisdom upon my boys, and I once again thanked my lucky stars that Dana never gave up on me, even when she probably should have. Grandpa, at seventy-nine years old was spry and healthy as a horse. He still worked in his shop every day, and supplemented his retirement income with his artistry. They didn't need the money. When the city surrounded his property, he worked out a deal, donating twenty acres to the city for a park, and selling another sixty or so to developers, when the city put a road through his property. His house stood on the remaining twenty-seven acres, but his property taxes were waived for twenty years, and he still had a boat load of money left when he put two hundred grand into each of the children's college funds. We were family, and we'd take care of each other. I had learned that from them, and took it to heart. I provided for my wife and family to the best of my ability, and always made time for her parents and grandparents. I never begrudged a minute of it. The few times I got irritated at having to change plans for their sakes, I remembered those months before I got married, and how they'd spent all their free time with me, while I toiled on our bed, under their watchful and supportive eyes. I might have been an asshole when she met me, but I like to believe I grew out of it. The life changing call came from my mother, Caroline. She was good to me, but we never talked on the phone, other than for me to get Dana, or for her to summon Roger. I was surprised to get the call mid-day, Dana was at work. "Logan?" "Hi Mom, what's up?" "D-d-d-daddy's dead," she said, and I could hear the tears in her words. "Momma's at home alone with him. Can you go over? You're the closest; I'm on my way." "I'm leaving now. I'll be there in less than five minutes. I'm so sorry, Mom." She was sobbing by this time. "I know, Honey. Take care of Momma, please." I was the first to arrive, even before the ambulance, calling work and letting them know I'd be unavailable on the drive over. He had died in his shop, lying on the floor next to an unfinished chair he'd been working on. Grandma was sitting on the floor next to him, rocking back and forth, holding his hand. It broke my heart. I opened the door to the garage, so the emergency people could come straight in. Then I sat down beside her, at a loss for what to do. I mean, seriously, what can you do? Her husband of 50 plus years was dead, growing cold at our feet. I put my arm around her waist, and sat with her. Grandma had her good days, and her bad days. There was no doubt she knew exactly what was going on. "What am I gonna do, Logan?" she whispered. On her bad days, she never knew who I was. She was polite and would smile at me, but I'd hear her asking the others who the nice young man was. That day she looked into my eyes, hers brimming over with tears. "He's gone. My Billy is gone. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, Logan. What am I gonna do?" "I ... I don't know, Grandma. He's the only Grandpa I ever had. I can't believe—" The ambulance rolling up the driving way interrupted our thoughts. I pulled Grandma up and out of their way, to give the guys room. Then things got hectic. Roger came running through the yard, calling out for Grandma. Dana was only a couple of minutes behind him, and I had to start explaining things all over again. The police arrived, followed by Caroline, then Alice. Amidst the crying, talking, and carting Grandpa off, it became too much. I found a corner to sit quietly, and mourn the loss of a great man, who'd had almost as big an influence in my life as Dana. When Dana found me, she gave me a hug, and I was sent to pick up the kids and bring them back to the homestead. The coroner said it was a massive heart attack. We had no idea he had any issues, hell, he seemed healthier than me. It struck me hard. I'd never had anyone I loved die, and I was pretty useless. Roger was not much better off, even though it was his wife's father. Lot of good we were, real men, who fell apart when most needed. Our women were better, and my kids were troopers. They handled all the details. Grandma Dana couldn't do much, the shock seemed to have hit her hard, and her memory was going. Half the time she didn't recognize any of us, and when she was lucid, she was heartbroken. It pained us all to see her that way. At seventy-four years old, she looked like she was still in her early sixties. She was fit, and healthy, no blood-pressure issues, minimal arthritis, no problems other than she couldn't remember most of the last fifty years much of the time. The funeral was held three days later, and I was happy to see what an effect the old man had on the community. There must have been over two hundred people there. A memorial was set up at the park they donated, with the children from the elementary school across the street let out for half a day. My mother spoke to them, about grandpa's life, and his love for his friends and family, that led him to provide a park for the community children. She talked about them being one of the oldest families in the area, and how Grandma's family built the old house, and kept goats and chickens, and grew crops. Even Grandma Dana was lucid enough to speak for a bit, about the importance of family, the best man she ever knew, and the best father and husband that could ever be. I'll admit it. I cried like a baby. To look at her, wearing a simple black dress, standing tall, her hair still mostly blonde and full, you'd never guess her age, or her problems. She was a testament to the adage of love keeping you young. We were gathered in the living room, the day after the funeral, talking over what to do about Grandma. It was obvious she couldn't live on her own, and nobody wanted to put her in a home. She'd lived in that house her entire life. It was her parent's before she married Grandpa. We couldn't take that from her. We talked about hiring help, a nurse, a housekeeper, a landscaping company. But how would she handle all those people around her she didn't know? I knew what the solution was, and wondered when they'd get around to mentioning it. After an hour or so, I realized nobody was going to put me on the spot like that. I looked over at my wife, and took her hand. "We should move in. We can take care of her. I'm home most of the time. We could hire a little help, but it wouldn't have to be full time. She knows us, and she loves the kids. The kids will be out of school shortly, and we can use the summer to settle in. The answer seems obvious." Dana squeezed my hand, tears in her eyes. "It's a lot to ask," she said softly. "It's nothing. They've done so much for us, it's the least we can do for her. I want to do it." It was Caroline who brought up the big question. "For how long? She's healthy as can be. She probably won't get better. You could be talking ten, fifteen, even twenty years. And what if she gets worse?" They were all looking at me. We knew it was the right decision. Everyone there did. But I was the outsider, even after all those years. They were eager to have me argue their side, but none of them would push me. It was my decision. I looked at Dana. "You want this don't you?" She was quiet. "I don't want to force you—" "No, Dana. For once, don't think of me. Tell me if you want this." She nodded. "I do, but only—" "Hush," I said, kissing her. "They're the only family I've ever had. I want to do anything I can for her. For him. I feel I have to. For his sake. I learned a lot from your father and grandfather, most importantly a man takes care of his family, first and foremost. She's my grandmother, the only one I ever knew. I want this very much. I ... I need to do this." I looked up at the rest of the adults gathered. "I don't care how long it takes. She will never do without if I can help it. I would do the same for any of you, and I know you'd do the same for Dana and the kids. It's the obvious solution." The Marital Bed My sister Alice half-heartedly offered to take over, but it wasn't what we needed. She worked, and traveled. She was only thirty-two, and after two failed marriages was having trouble settling down. She lived an hour away, and would have either had to quit her job, or commute well over an hour each way during rush hour. Roger and Caroline's issues were similar. Dana worked downtown, well over an hour from the property during rush hour. They lived twenty miles away. Dana couldn't do anything about her job; she was two years away from a pension. Roger had officially retired, but was still working part-time, also downtown. They could do it, but Grandma would still be alone during the day, and Caroline's commute would be over three hours a day. Dana worked nearby. I worked from home. The kids would go to the same high school and middle school. Only the elementary school was different, and if we kept our house, then even that wouldn't have to change. It was the ideal solution. Now we just had to explain it to Grandma. We had the kids watching over her, and they were baking. I pulled Billy to the side, and asked how she was. "Good. She's knows who we are, and she's sad about Grandpa. We're making his favorite oatmeal cookies." I felt a pride in my boy that filled my heart. The timing was right. When the cookies went in the oven we brought her into the living room. Dana explained it. "Grandma, Logan wants us to move in here with you. You have the space, and the kids love the big yard. They wouldn't even have to change school districts. We want to be here for you." She looked at me. "You want this?" I nodded. "More than anything. Like you said, Grandpa was the best man I ever knew, and if he can't be here for you. I will. As long as you'll have us. We love you. I want the kids to see you every day while they're growing up. Please say you'll take us in." She looked around at her daughter, Roger, and Alice. "You don't have to do this," she said nervously. "I'll be fine. I can—" "Nonna, the timer went off," my little one came barreling in. "Can I take the cookies out of the oven? Billy says I'm too young but I'm not!" Grandma grinned. "Let Billy do this one, alright? You and me, we'll do the sugar cookies." Caroline pouted and stomped her foot. "It's not fair! I'll be careful." Grandma pulled her close. "Of course you can do it. But sometimes we let the boys think they're in charge. It makes them feel important. You and me, we'll bake lots more, alright? And you make sure they do it right. Check the bottoms to make sure they're done." Caroline nodded quickly, and tore off running to the kitchen. "Nonna says I need to check ..." The quiet in the room afterward was short lived. Grandma looked at Dana smiling. "So much like her mother," she said. Then she looked over at me. "When?" "Immediately. We'll start tomorrow, making space. We'll use part of Grandpa's workshop to store whatever won't go in the house that we want to keep. I think if we clear out the attic space we can make a bedroom for Billy so all the kids have their own room. You'll stay in your room, and Dana and I will take the room at the end of the hall. If that's alright by you." She nodded. "I need to check on the cookies, before the little heathens burn the house down." She got up and walked back to the kitchen, and we spent a couple of hours working out the details of how things would change. It was the right thing to do, but that didn't make it any easier. * * * I explained the issues to my project manager, and promised I'd put in whatever hours I could for the next week, but I'd likely miss any meetings, and be unavailable much of the time. He was a good guy, and assured me there was still plenty of time to finish my sections of the code before integration and wished me luck. We hired some day laborers outside the diner on Main Street where they gathered. Roger had plenty of time on his hands, since he'd retired three months earlier. He was still working part-time, but only around 20 hours a week, and would often show up late afternoon, to help wherever he could. Those first couple of days after the funeral, Alice stayed with us while she and Dana handled things at home, packing with the help of some friends and hired help. I, Roger, and our workers started at Grandma's, moving things, clearing out bedrooms, a study, and starting in on the attic. We had the kids moved in one day, and Alice spent the night at Grandma's with the kids, while Dana and I worked late into the night. Dana was incredibly appreciative of my sacrifice, no matter how hard I tried to convince her I wanted to do it. The bed got a workout, with the house empty, and we even got a couple of quickies in the next morning. Taking apart our bed was an emotional experience, and we made a special trip just for that, reassembling it in the biggest guest bedroom where it barely fit. We talked about changes to the house, adding an extra room, along with a full bathroom, so we could be comfortable. The thought of sharing a bathroom with the kids for the next dozen years wasn't acceptable. It took three days to get us moved in, and the house was constantly in turmoil. Grandma mostly stayed out of the way, quiet and often confused. She was having a difficult time, and she wasn't all there most of the time. Mornings were bad when she first woke up, seemingly lost. It was painful to see. We didn't want to rent our house out until after the new school year started in three months. That way we could keep the kids in the same schools. It made finances a little tight. Grandpa's will helped a good bit. Grandma got most everything, of course. But we found out a little about how much he had stashed away from selling the land. He was a smart old coot, and had managed to invest wisely, including getting a piece of the management company that purchased most of the acreage. They had a steady income, their social security, and over three million left off the sale of the property. I had no idea. It turned out the land sold for seven million, along with ten percent of the management company that operated the shopping center that covered sixteen acres of the land sold. Dana and Alice each received two hundred grand. The will had been recently updated, and Caroline was responsible for Grandma's keep, with full access to all their money. When Dana and I told them we'd be using a part of her inheritance to update the old house, and add a new Master bedroom suite, Dana's mother insisted that the family money would pay for it. I lost that argument. We had quotes in two days, and a building crew on site by the end of the week. Things still were hectic around the old place, but most of that was outdoors, and inside we started to calm down. Their basement was an outdated cluttered space, but it was enough for me to be able to put in an office, and get some work done. Those were long days for me. Nearly three weeks of working odd hours, staying up late, laboring around the house, and getting things settled in. The kids seemed to take the move the easiest. They loved their new rooms, the big property, and the fact that they were right next door to the park. We were all surprised when the kids asked why they couldn't go to the school right there, rather than have to be driven to school every morning. What they said made sense. Billy would be going to middle school the next year, and Caroline was just starting. There would be no upheaval for them. Roger was torn between leaving his friends, and starting anew, but after a couple of weeks in the new house and hanging out at the park, he had brand new 'best' friends, and was willing to make the change. That made our lives easier and we put the old house up for sale. We've always encouraged summer programs, and to help the kids deal with all the changes, we spoiled them terribly. Young Caroline got signed up for Horse-riding Camp. Eight weeks of riding, which might be followed up with Advanced camp if she wanted. Billy was enrolled in football camp, having played since second grade. He was never going to a monster, size wasn't one of our families traits, but the boy was lightning fast. Young Roger got his way with swimming camp, the most onerous of all, and by far the longest lasting, covering the entire summer and costing an arm and a leg. Fortunately, we were able to find families to carpool with. Roger, we paid $25 a week to get picked up and dropped off, with a family that had three kids attending the swimming camp. I don't know how they could afford it. For Caroline and Billy, we shared the driving, with Dana having drop off duty twice a week, while I did the picking up an equal number of times. It was obvious that Grandma did best when the kids were around. They kept her busy, and she somehow seemed to remember best in their presence. That was the worst part of the kids activities, with all three of them gone most mornings until early afternoon. It was when the house was empty, and it was just me and her, that she would get lost sometimes. It made me feel a little bad. Like I didn't matter as much, I guess. I know that's unreasonable, and I didn't blame her, but it's how I felt. I tried to spend some time with her, make sure she ate lunch, kept her company while she did the laundry. Helped her find things she'd misplaced. The cleaning crew came in twice a week, and worked around her. As soon as they left, she'd start cleaning behind them. I wasn't sure if having cleaners was a great idea, she seemed to take offense to it, especially during her weaker moments, when she seemed to think she was in her twenties, and they were doing her job. My contracting job provided work in bursts and lulls. I was hit with a couple of days of very light tasking, and found myself in Grandpa's workshop early one morning, looking at the unfinished chair he'd been working on. It hurt me to see it like that; Grandpa was one of those men who couldn't stand to see something half-done. I hadn't been in his workshop for more than a couple of times total, since we'd lost him. It wasn't air conditioned, and in the summer it took some getting used to working out there. A big fan in the back and opening the garage door up front provided some ventilation and made it almost bearable. I looked around, remembering my months there under his guidance, working on Dana's and my marital bed. I wandered the large space, recalling the time spent learning each of the major tools, thinking how sad it was that they were idle. I turned on my heel, and walked briskly back to the bedroom, where I put on my woodworking duds. Grandpa had definite ideas of what should be worn in the shop. It was a uniform, carpenter pants, steel toed boots, long sleeve western shirt. Heading back to the shop, I checked on Grandma, who was still in bed, not uncommon. I closed her door quietly, and headed back out. Just inside the door were the work-belts and painter caps that we wore. Beside those were the ear muffs we used when working with any of the power tools. I buckled a belt around my waist, and put on a cap, feeling good about doing something other than pecking away at my keyboard, or managing the work going on outside the building. I examined the chair he'd been working on, dry-fitting all the pieces. I scraped off some old glue, and sanded where it had hardened. Grandpa's large bottle of carpenter's glue still sat where he'd left it. The glue had hardened at the opening, and it took me a minute or two to clear it out, and verify that the glue inside the bottle hadn't gone bad. I lined up my clamps and some cloths to make sure I didn't damage the wood, and started putting the chair back together. I was about half done, when Grandma came into the shop. I was having a difficult time fitting a couple of pieces together, and clamping them in place, when I felt her hand on my shoulder. "You've been working out here in the heat all day, Billy," she said. "I couldn't stand to see this left half done," I explained. Her girlish giggle was a surprise, though not nearly as large as when her hand caressed my rear. "Don't I know it. Once you get started, there ain't much I can do to convince you to take a break, is there?" Only then did it hit me that she had called me Billy. I looked back at her, and she gave me a big smile. Then she leaned in and kissed me on the shoulder. "You finish up that chair, and I'll make us something for lunch. Unless there's something else you'd like to do?" Her hand slid across my rear, and between my cleft from behind. I fumbled the pieces I was trying to hold in place, and she laughed. "I'm sorry. Don't be mad, Billy." "I'm not mad, Dana," I said, turning slightly to break the contact with her mischievous hand. I recognized that she was having one of her episodes. She thought I was her husband, and she was back in her twenties. I didn't want to cause her any anguish, and played along. "I could never be mad at you," I said, leaning back against the workbench as she moved in close, her arms reaching around me. She looked up at me and smiled. She had a beautiful smile, still, and it warmed my heart to see her eyes light up. "When you finish up with the Conroy's chairs, come in and I'll fix you something to eat. You skipped breakfast again, didn't you?" "Wasn't hungry," I said. "I had an apple." Her arms moved upward, around my neck, as she pressed her body against mine. I felt awkward, and nervous. Grandma, on the other hand, seemed quite comfortable. She gave her hips a little wiggle, pressing up between my legs. I'm more than a little ashamed I responded to her overt come-on. Her smile grew wider, when she pulled my head down for a kiss. It's weird. I know that, but you have to understand, I loved the woman. The way she'd taken me in so easily, accepted me as part of her family. The only family I'd ever had. There was nothing lustful in my feelings, but my heart broke for her. She'd lost the love of her life, the man she'd spent more than 50 years with. She was losing her mind, and for that brief moment, she was happy, reliving her past, her early days, and I was her Bill. I kissed her. I put my arms around her and kissed her. Softly, nothing crazy, but I did, I kissed her. And the woman melted against me. She was still in her nightgown, her skinny body barely covered. I could feel her skin through the material, and ran my hands down her back. She hummed her happiness against my lips, and I almost jumped when her hand slid between us, rubbing my erection. Her eyes had been closed, and she opened them. She stared into my eyes, and I felt a warmth I couldn't deny. Then she was pulling away. "I'll bring you a sandwich in a bit. I'm making your favorite roast tonight, so don't stay out here forever." Her hand reached out and ran down my chest, before she turned away and walked back toward the house, with a teasing wiggle in her walk. She turned and looked back at me, grinning at the doorway. "Get back to work and stop staring at my butt," she teased, then left me, stunned. It took me a while to get back to what I was doing, feeling weird, and oh-so-wrong. Thankfully, I was able to push the thoughts about Grandma's behavior out of my head and finish most of the chair, before the serenity of the shop was interrupted again. Grandma was back, and I could see that she'd changed. She had on a bright yellow sundress, and her hair was tied back in a simple ponytail. She walked past the big fan at the end of the workshop, and her lightweight dress blew up, exposing her thighs. I'm pretty sure she did it on purpose. In one hand was a plate with a huge sandwich on it, as well as some chips. In the other was a tall glass of iced tea. "Break time, Billy. You need to eat." I stopped what I was doing, and capped the glue. She cleared a space for the plate, and emptied her hands before turning to me. She reached up and pulled off my hat, running her fingers through my hair. "I still don't understand why you insist on wearing these stupid hats," she said. "It keeps the sawdust out of my hair, and keeps my hair out of the work," I explained, as Grandpa had once explained to me. Her hands moved down, and she was unbuckling my toolbelt. I would have backed away if I could, nervous about where things were going. "You're so tense lately," she said, pulling the belt away and laying it on the bench beside me. "We'll be fine. Business is a little slow, but it always is this time of year." "I'm almost out of things to do," I said, stuck for a reply. "Then you need to go out and drum up some business. You're the best, and you need to remember that. Jeanie said the Destin's are adding onto their house. I bet you could get some cabinet work out of them." Then she slid her arm around my waist, and turned me toward the lunch she'd brought. "Eat. Finish the Conroy's stuff, and plan on making a run up to the Destin's. The wife's name is Leslie, and Michael is her husband. The oldest they call Mike, then there's Margaret, and John. Tell them Jeanie suggested you contact them." "I'll do that. I should be done in here within the hour." She gave me a squeeze, then a quick kiss on the shoulder. "Perfect. I'm making your roast tonight." She gave me a pat on the bottom, the waltzed off again, with that teasing walk of hers. It was hard to believe that a woman in her seventies could walk that way without breaking a hip. "Thanks, Dana. Love you," I said, picking up the sandwich. See, that's the problem with having a wife named Dana. It was automatic. I didn't even think about it, the words just spilled forth. She laughed, not even turning around. "We'll see. Get some work from the Destin's, Billy, and I'll let you show me just how much you love me later." I was a little optimistic about the time it would take me to finish the chair. I was happy with the job I'd done, and cleaned up the work area. I looked around while I was at it, and under a couple of tarps, found some old cabinets that Grandpa must have been working on. I decided I'd found my next project. After cleaning up, I had some concerns about going in the house, and Grandma acting all lovey-dovey, once the kids came home from their summer camps. I slipped out the back of the shop, and looked in to the kitchen from the sliding glass door. My daughter Caroline was in the kitchen with Grandma, and Billy was sitting at the table, eating his afternoon snack. Roger was always the last to arrive, and would be ravenous when he got home. I went around the house, to check on the work that was being done on the addition. The foundation had been poured, and the framing was complete. They had started on the plumbing for the new master bath, and most of the exterior sheathing was in place. They were making great progress, and I spoke with the head honcho who assured me they were still on schedule, and would have the electrical and plumbing inspection in less than a week. The door into the house was complete, and I entered from that end, heading to the bedroom and changing into jeans and t-shirt. I was hoping that the outfit was part of why Grandma had mistaken me for a young Grandpa. I made my way to the kitchen, smelling her divine cooking. Whatever else you might say about her memory, that woman sure could cook. I took a deep breath, as I watched her interaction with my little girl. The boys were nowhere to be seen, and I was hoping that they were doing something useful, like their chores, but suspected they were out playing. Grandma was almost dancing around the kitchen, humming happily, when she wasn't giving Caroline directions. She looked up at me, and gave me a smile. "Logan, could you run up to the store and get me a dozen Granny Smith apples, or McIntosh if they have them? That and I'm out of nutmeg. I think I'll make an apple pie for dessert." The Marital Bed It was her best night in weeks. Her memory was good, and she was nothing but smiles and laughter, while we chatted around the dinner table. Dana was ecstatic, to see her Grandmother doing so well. The kids took it in stride, and little Caroline was proud as a peacock when she presented us with the first apple pie she'd ever made. It was delicious. Late that night, after everyone had gone to bed, my wife and I retired to our own. I knew I had to tell her what had happened. I was feeling more than a little guilty about it. Dana had other ideas, as evidenced by a hot kiss, and her hand sliding down my body and caressing my alter-ego. I was hard in no time at all, and she was riding me. I watched her eyes open, and trace the names on the headboard as she often did, before closing them again. Her breath quickened, as did her motions. Then she was coming for me, and her passion ignited my own, urging me to grab her hips and finish with her. It was magical, but then again, it often was. After cleaning up, we relaxed together, cuddling, while I held her. It was time. "Grandma had a weird episode today," I said. "Hmm?" "I was out in the workshop, trying to finish that chair Grandpa had been working on. It bothered me that it was only partially done, and abandoned. While I was at it, she came out to check on me. She thought I was Grandpa." Dana gave a little giggle. "That's such a surprise? You've seen the pictures when they were young. You look more like family than I do. I take too much after my Dad." "She ... she touched me," I said nervously. "Touched you? How?" I was still holding her, and she didn't tense up or nothing. No variation in her voice. If anything I thought she sounded a little amused. "She rubbed my butt. Then she hugged me and kissed me. On the lips." "I hope you kissed her back," Dana chuckled. "I'm serious! It was weird. She kept calling me Billy, and she was teasing me something fierce. She brought me lunch, and talked about the old days, doing some work for someone called the Destins. She said she was going to make me my favorite, her roast." Dana wiggled a little, getting comfortable, pressing back against me. She pulled my hand up to her breast. "She seemed great tonight. The best in a while." I couldn't disagree. "Yeah, I think it was the kids. When they came home, and she was cooking with them, she was back to normal. When I went into the kitchen, after changing out of my woodworking clothes, she called me Logan, and sent me out on an errand. Like nothing had happened." "Nothing had happened, baby," she whispered. Her mischievous hand was between us, reaching for my cock. "It seems like it was good for her. You didn't try to remind her who you were or anything did you? You went along?" I stifled a moan as her hand wrapped around my shaft, tugging softly. "No. She was too happy. I don't think I'd ever seen her in such a good mood, as she was in the workshop. I couldn't mess with that." Dana turned and kissed me softly. Her hand was moving slowly, bringing me back to life. "Were you worried I'd get mad?" she asked. "I kissed her, Dana. Twice. It wasn't a friendly kiss neither." She giggled, and kissed me again. I was almost hard enough to do something about it. "Don't think twice about it. You would never cheat on me, Logan. I know that. You're not that stupid boy I met all those years ago." "She touched me. There," I whispered, nodding down toward where her hand was working. "So? She thought you were Grandpa. You made her happy. That's not a bad thing, Logan. Not at all." Dana rolled onto her back, her hand tugging my cock, encouraging me to climb over her. She guided me into her, and sighed. "God, I love you so much," she whispered. I was quiet, slowly working my way into her, stroking smoothly, until she was taking my full length. "You're really not mad?" I asked, slowing down, kissing her neck, her shoulders. "Never. Not with Grandma. You and I both know it for what it is. Her taking a stroll down her old memories, helpless to do anything about it. You trying to help, keep her happy. No, I'm not mad. Just don't get too crazy, OK? You'd probably break her hip if you got carried away." She giggled, wiggling her hips for me. Then she dropped into a deeper drawl, sounding more like Grandma. "It's been too long, Billy. Way too long," she teased. "Do me, big guy. Nobody lays wood like you." I almost laughed. I lifted her legs, tilting them back, and showed her that Grandpa wasn't the only one who could lay wood. "You're rotten, you know that?" I told her. "And you're the best, Billy. Always. Fuck me, honey. Fuck me!" I did, too caught up in it to talk anymore. I fucked her like my life depended on it, and she struggled to stay quiet, with the kids right next door. Afterward, she cuddled up to me, breathing hard. "Damn, that was good," she mumbled. "The best. You're always the best, Dana." We didn't mention Grandma anymore that night, although I can't deny I wondered if Grandpa got a reaction out of her like I did. * * * The next day, it was back to normal. Grandma was the same as she'd been, more confused than anything during the day, and at her best with the kids. I may have avoided her a little at first, still uncomfortable with the way things had gone. But once it was obvious she didn't know who I was, and didn't mistake me for anyone else, it was business as usual. It was three days later, before we had a partial repeat. I'd finished up my workload early, and was waiting to hear the results of testing after integration. I was certain my code was clean, having self-tested it thoroughly. I was nervous, putting on my woodworking duds, but shut those feelings down, and returned to the workshop. The chair I'd been working on needed some additional work. The glue had set, and I cleaned up any that had leaked. I did a little more sanding, running my hands over the clear grain, feeling for imperfections. When I was happy with the results, I searched through the stains, trying to imagine what Grandpa would have wanted. This time, when Grandma came out to the shop, there were no surprises. I was kind of expecting her. She approached quietly, standing to one side, looking over my work. Grandpa's work to be honest. "It's beautiful, Billy," she said. "You are the best you know. An artist. Nobody does half as good as you." "Not half as beautiful as you, Dana," I answered. She smiled, and her face lit up. "Is that my porch chair you promised me? That old one is due to be turned into firewood." I guess it was no longer the Conroy's chair, and I couldn't think of a better use for it. "What color do you want it? Painted, or stained?" She approached, touching the wood of the chair, before leaning into me, and putting her arm around my waist. "I'm terrible at this. What do you think?" "I think that's a fib. You're better at this part than me. It's your chair, what do you want?" She turned and kissed my shoulder, her hand sliding down and rubbing my ass again. "Stain. Nothing too dark. I want to see the wood, the grain, the knots. I want to be reminded of what it came from, plain wood, before you worked your magic. For me." She lifted my arm, and slid around in front of me, her arms encircling my waist. "I love you, Billy. Thank you for my chair." Her eyes fairly glowed as she looked up into my face. I put my arms around her, giving her a squeeze. "I love you, Dana." She stood on tiptoe, her neck arching, her lips tilted up toward me. How could I deny her? I kissed her. I held her and kissed her, and felt her tongue run along my lips. It was undeniably sexy. Her body pressed against mine, and shamefully I responded. She pulled away after a few seconds, grinning. "Can I sit in it?" "Of course. It is yours, after all." I lifted it off the bench, and carried it out to the porch before putting it on the ground. I couldn't help but notice how the big fan blew her dress up teasingly as she passed it. She walked around the chair, running her hands over the wood, before settling in. She wiggled around a little before looking up at me. "It's perfect. What a surprise," she said with a grin. Then she was up on her feet. "Try it." I did, and had barely gotten seated before she was in my lap, giggling. Her arm went around my neck, and she pulled me back for a kiss. It was a long one, and her hands were mischievous, rubbing me, touching me. Her butt was wriggling, and I put my hand on her hip to hold her in place. Then she was leaning against me, soft in my arms, talking about the business, the cabinets I needed to finish for the Simmons, getting the rest of the money out of the Andersons. She pulled my hand off of her hip, and startled me when she slipped it between her legs. Her little bit of a dress she'd worn for me was scooted up out of the way, and I was touching her panties. They were wet. How the hell was a seventy-something year old woman wet? I was curious, and rubbed her softly, feeling the moisture seep through the cotton material. Her hand was misbehaving as well, rubbing my stiffness, casually, while she talked. She closed her eyes a couple of times, shifting her weight, pressing back against my teasing fingers. Then she stopped, and took my face in her hands, kissing me fiercely. "Tonight, my handsome man. Everything." I couldn't believe how worked up I felt. I wasn't thinking about my wife. I was imagining I was Grandpa, fifty years ago, with his beautiful horny wife in his lap, promising him the world. Then she stiffened in my arms. I didn't know what was wrong, until she sat up, straightening her dress. "Poop!" she growled. "I bet that's Dan Simmons, come to check on his cabinets." She gave me a quick hard kiss, then climbed out of my lap. "I'm making my buttermilk fried chicken tonight. And double biscuits. Don't let Dan know you've been working on my chair, when you should be finishing his cabinets." As she turned away, I could hear Roger calling out from inside the house. "Anyone home?" She must have heard him pull up. I know I didn't. I was lost there for a bit, in a different time. Grandma opened the sliding door, waltzing into the house, spry as a teen. "Dan Simmons," she said. "Billy's out back. Your cabinets are near done. I'm making my fried chicken. Care to stay for dinner?" Roger took it in stride, with barely a ripple. "Not tonight, Dana. Thanks. I, uh, I'll check on Bill." "The offer's open. Bring your pretty little bride along if you want, I don't imagine you can stay away from her that long anyway." I was watching as she walked up to him, rubbed her hand down his arm, and turned away with a giggle. Damn. Grandma was a flirt. A big one. Roger came out to the porch, where I had stood and picked up the chair to bring it back to the shop for staining. "Cabinets?" he asked. I shrugged. "Grandma sometimes thinks I'm Grandpa, when I'm working in the shop. I guess he did some cabinets for a Dan Simmons. There's some cabinets in there, which I think got her thinking wrong." "Well, she seemed to be in a great mood. And she's making her fried chicken? Nobody makes better fried chicken. I think I'm gonna call Caroline, and tell her we're eating over. You say she's done this before?" "Just once. Maybe a week ago, when I was finishing the chair Grandpa was working on." "It's good to see her happy. Maybe you should do some more work out here." Roger was more than my father. He was probably my best friend. I couldn't keep secrets from him. "Dad, she thinks I'm Grandpa. She calls me Billy, and she acts, uh, really friendly." The stunned looked on his face made me feel better. I wasn't alone in thinking this was odd. "When you say really friendly ..." "She kisses me. She's very touchy-feely. She was, well, talking ... talking about what we were going to do tonight. In bed." Roger's eyes opened wide, and then he laughed. A big hearty laugh that, to be honest, irritated me. "It's not funny, Dad!" His laughter diminished to mere chuckles. "It kind of is, you know? Not too surprising, everyone's noticed how much you look like him in the old pictures. I didn't know the old bird had it in her. You're going along, right?" "I kind of have to. I don't want to upset her. She talks all about their work, their customers, her friends, it's like she's back to when they first started out. She thought you were a customer, for those cabinets," I said, with a nod toward the tarp covered objects. Roger walked over and uncovered the partially completed cabinets. "You should finish these. They're beautiful." Grandma chose that moment to come back to the garage, holding a pair of iced tea glasses. She offered one to Roger, and gave me the other, with a wink. Then she walked over to Roger, with a sway in her step, putting her hand on his arm. "What do you think? Everything he told you, right? My Billy does the best work around." Roger didn't shy away from her flirtatious touch. "I was just telling him they were great. He should finish them." Grandma pouted so cutely, I couldn't help picture her playing it up back then. "He promised he'd have them done and ready for installation a week from Tuesday. He'll get them done. It's no good rushing him." Grandma looked over at me and rolled her eyes. I almost burst out laughing. Roger nodded. "I wasn't trying to rush him, I said—" "You have my word, Dan. They're his top priority. He'll get them done, and they'll be worth every penny." She ran her hand along his arm, teasingly. Grandma was cracking me up. "Speaking of pennies, your second payment is due, and we could really use it to buy the hardware. I don't suppose you have the money on you, do you?" "Uhm, how much was it again?" Grandma stomped her foot. "Dan Simmons! I know you're not the kind of man to try to renegotiate halfway through the project." "No, Dana," Roger said anxiously, reaching for his wallet. "I just forgot. I swear." Grandma sighed. "Forty up front, forty more, due last Thursday, and eighty once they're installed. Anyone else would have made you pay at least half at the start. You know it's a good deal. Best dang cabinet work in the county, if not the state!" Roger nodded. "Great work, I know. I'm sorry I'm late with the payment. I have it with me," he said, waving his wallet. The grin on Grandma's face lit up the room. She took him by the arm, and started walking him to the house door. "Wonderful. Come in and I'll write you a receipt. We should let Billy get back to work," she said, looking back at me and giving a nod toward the cabinets. Then a grin and a wink. I could see now that Grandma was a big part of Grandpa's success. She was a natural. As for me, I wasn't about to get stuck in the doghouse. I uncovered Grandpa's old work, and started sorting out the pieces, seeing how much he had finished, and what was left to complete. When Grandma came back, several minutes later, I had one of the pieces on the bench. She was obviously in a great mood, giggling as she walked over to me. She moved up close and rubbed my chest when I turned toward her. "I was naughty again, Billy. I hope you're nod mad." Mad, no. Surprised? Hell, yeah! "How naughty, Dana?" She gave me a fake pout, her eyes shining, as her hand traveled down my front, only stopping when she reached my zipper. "Just a little, honey. Not really bad. You know I'd never be real bad for anyone but you." I was actually enjoying this. Seeing how Grandma used to be. I had no idea. I put my hands on her waist, and pulled her in close. "Tell me." She giggled, her hand rubbing where she shouldn't. "I kissed him. I even let him touch my bottom." Shit! Roger had kissed her! "And that's all?" She nodded vigorously, grinning. "Forty bucks, cash money. And you've got an extra three days to finish the work. I made him give you the weekend. I did good, right honey?" "You did great, Dana. You're the best." She lowered her head, looking up at me through her eyelashes, pouting again. "You're not mad, are you? It was just a little kiss." Then she smiled. "Not like this." Her arms were around my neck, her body pressed against mine, and she kissed me like her life depended on it. Holy crap! Grandma was a good kisser. When she finally pulled away I was stunned. "I'm gonna go work on dinner. You need to get my chair done. Dan's stuff can wait." She grinned mischievously. "If we need extra time, I'm sure I can get us a few more days. You did order the hardware, right?" I nodded. "Good. Then get to it. And maybe tonight, I'll let you punish me for being a naughty girl again." * * * Dana was riding me, by far her favorite position, and she slapped my chest. "She didn't!" I laughed, grabbing her hips and grinding into her. "Yep. Grandma's bad. She kissed Roger, or I should say 'Dan,' and earned us a few more days before I have to finish the cabinets. She even made him pay us forty dollars." "Oh my God! Grandma!?" I almost laughed, but Dana decided she'd been idle long enough, and started rocking back and forth on my cock, dragging a moan out of me. That put a smile on her face. "You better not be thinking of Grandma," she said, and smacked me on the chest again. "Be real, Dana. You're the love of my life. Shit, I'm probably the only man in America who after twelve years of marriage fantasizes about his wife." She slowed down her rocking, taking her time. I could see her mind was elsewhere, but I didn't mind. Sometimes our loving was romantic, sometimes passionate. A lot of times it was just playful, like tonight. I was happy enough to have her riding me. This was one of those fun times, and teasing her about Grandma was turning out hilarious. "You think he told Mom?" she asked. "Probably. I'll talk to him. He thought it was funny that she was hitting on me. Let's see who's laughing now." "This is so weird, Logan. She was in a great mood tonight, almost completely lucid." "And her chicken was to die for. Damn, that woman can cook." "Dammit! I know you're not thinking about Grandma, with that big cock up inside me." I smacked her ass cheek pretty firmly, making her yelp. "Behave. You know you are the only woman for me. This thing with Grandma isn't my doing. Hell, you and Roger both were encouraging me." Dana leaned over, her arms bracketing my head, her perfect titties swaying as she rocked back and forth, fucking me slowly. "I know," she said, gazing into my eyes. "And I love seeing her happy. But you have to admit it's weird. I mean, kissing Dad!" I chuckled, reaching up and playing with her tits. "That's your problem? Roger?" She blushed, and it was adorable. "She thinks she's married to you. But Dad? That's just wrong. And you said he touched her ass?" "Grandma's a pretty woman, using her feminine wiles to help the business. She confessed immediately. She also made it clear she's been naughty before, and she wasn't the least bit regretful." I chuckled, tweaking my beautiful wife's nipples. "She did say I'd get to 'punish' her tonight for being naughty." Dana glared at me, then started pounding down on my cock. I loved the way it made her tits shake. "I'm thinking you're the one that need to be punished," she said. "Punish me, beautiful." * * * I loved my current project. Some projects are more critical than others, some time-lines more crucial. This was one of those projects where time was of the essence, and the company big enough to pay well. I'd been managing to keep up with my tasks and goals, and integration was going exceptionally well. I'd only had two minor issues to deal with. I was being paid to be on call, during integration and test. I understood that if my work had issues, I had to drop everything and deal with it until it was done. For the moment, as long as my code remained solid, my job was to check my emails each morning, join a daily progress conference call, and wait. The Marital Bed With time on my hands, I was checking on the addition's progress, cleaning out an old shed behind the garage that probably hadn't been looked at in twenty years, and eventually, organizing and cleaning Grandpa's workshop and the garage which had been overtaken with all his work and tools. I was nervous about that, but the first time Grandma came out to see what I was up to, she just looked around, and left. She had that confused look again, and I knew it was a bad day. Roger had not made an appearance in a couple of days, and it was nice when he showed up the following morning. I was back to working on the cabinets, in full workshop apparel with Grandma's newly stained chair ready for a final finish. I let him get settled in before I started grilling him. "So, 'Dan,' I hear you've been kissing my wife," is how I started. The man turned bright red. "Jesus, Logan! The woman is a fiend!" "Not so funny now, is it? With the shoe on the other foot." He grinned. "Yeah, but you gotta admit, it is kind of funny. You know Mom made it pretty clear that wasn't the first time that I'd kissed her. I mean, Dan kissed her. The woman is a total tease." "Did you tell Caroline?" I asked. He took a moment to reply. "Did you tell Dana?" "Everything. Including Grandma kissing 'Dan.' " He grinned. "Good. Cause I told Caroline everything. She hasn't stopped teasing me ever since. How about you?" "Pretty much the same. I think it bothers Dana a lot more that you kissed Grandma, then the fact that she's been almost attacking me." "Mom kissed me," Roger insisted. "Oh, right. And the butt fondling?" He turned bright red. "It wasn't fondling, I mean, I barely touched her, and it was just for a couple of seconds." I couldn't help but laugh. "You don't have to tell me, I get it. Trust me. She's a wild woman." He laughed along with me. "Yep. I get the feeling that Dad was a very, very lucky man." He was holding a piece for me, when Grandma made her appearance. I should have known. She had some kind of sixth sense, when it came to me working out there. Then again, with the fan going, and running some of the tools, I wasn't exactly quiet. "Who's your handsome friend, Billy?" she asked, smiling at Roger. I thought Dad was going to lose it. Grandma came over and slid her arm around my waist tilting her head up for a kiss. It was kind of my duty to deliver. "This is Roger," I said. She let go of me and stuck out her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Roger. What brings you by? Here to check out the work? Best dang woodworker for a hundred miles." She had a huge smile on her face and a sparkle in her eye, as she clung to his hand. I was getting a pretty clear idea of how Grandpa had been so successful. "You know the counter over at McPherson's? That's Billy's work. And the library at the courthouse? My Billy. Even the Mayor knows where to go for the best. Most of his office was Billy's work. So what can we do for you?" Roger was wishy-washy, and Grandma did her thing. It only took her a few minutes to drag him inside the house so he could see some of the completed work inside. She looked over her shoulder at me, giving me a wink. Ten minutes later, she was back, with Roger in tow. She was holding his hand. "I'll let you boys finish up the details. I've got a ham that I need to get working on, and a lot of potatoes to peel." She gave me a quick wink, then turned and faced Roger. "You won't regret choosing us, I promise," she said, with more than a promise implied in her voice. "You're welcome to stay for dinner. There's more than enough." She gave him a kiss on the cheek, then planted a big kiss on me, before leaving us. "Spill," I said. Roger was blushing something fierce. "I guess you're going to be building me a complete set of built in cabinets for my dining room. Floor to ceiling, doors top and bottom, six foot tall glass doors through the middle. Hand carved decorations, which we need to work out." He shook his head slowly. "That woman could sell ice to Eskimos." "So, Roger, did you kiss my wife again?" I teased. "Damn it, I told you, she kissed me! How was I supposed to stop her?" I couldn't help but laugh, and was still chuckling when Grandma opened the door and poked her head in. "Billy, I know you're busy, but could I see you for a minute?" She looked over at Roger, smiling. "I hope you don't mind, Roger." "Uh, no, of course not." "We'll only be a moment, I promise." She looked back at me, and raised an eyebrow. "On my way," I said, removing my toolbelt. I was barely in the kitchen before she was on me. I was verifying I still had my tonsils before she spoke. "The man's a liar, but he had cash. Like we're supposed to believe he has a four thousand square foot house. Puh-lease! I think he was trying to show off for me." "Have you been naughty, Dana?" She grinned, rubbing her body against mine. "Just a little, honey, I swear. He paid cash! One hundred dollars! I had to do something. You're not mad, are you?" "How could I ever be mad at you, Dana?" She giggled, and picked up the stack of twenties off the table, fanning them out, and waving them. "He must be rich. I started out almost double the cost, and he accepted straight up. No dickering at all. One hundred dollars as just a deposit. Can you believe it?" She threw herself at me again, kissing me hard. "You're supposed to go do the measurements, so we can give him a final price. I think he'll go for at least six hundred. Maybe more!" "That's a lot of money. We don't want to cheat the guy." She gave me her pout. "He has the money, and you're worth every penny. We wouldn't be cheating him. We're just finally getting paid what you're worth. He even said we could use him as a referral. Don't be mad, honey." She had snuggled up close, and her hands were wandering. "This is good news. Great news. You need to do the best job ever, and I'm going to make sure you're rewarded." She placed her lips near my ear. "I think this might be an extra-naughty night. You know, that thing you want me do with my mouth?" Her hand was rubbing my crotch, and moments later, it was squeezing my erection through my pants. "You like that idea, don't you? I'll be a dirty woman for you Billy. Tonight. Promise me, you won't take any less than six hundred, and I'm going to drive you crazy." "Six hundred?" All I could think was that back in the 60's that was a lot of money. She nodded, her hand still holding my erection. "Please, Billy. I know he can afford it. I can tell. It's a lot of work." "All right, it's a deal," I said. She squealed like a little girl, and hugged me. "I'm gonna make it worth your while, I swear. Now go take care of business, while I make you a feast worthy of a king! I'm thinking that chicken fried steak you love so much, and fresh beans out of the garden. If you're a good boy I might even make my cherry cobbler." Dinner that night was nothing less than fabulous, and Grandma was in a terrific mood again. It still seemed more than weird to me, how she could seem completely normal in the evening, with the whole family around, when that morning she'd been living so far in the past. * * * It was a lot of things. I'd spent eighteen hours straight resolving the first serious issue on my project. It was one of those subtle errors, only showing up under certain circumstances. I was still awake emailing in my fixes, when Dana left for work, taking little Caroline and two of the neighbors off to horse riding camp. The boys had already left in their respective camp carpools. I was hopped up on caffeine, exhausted but unable to sleep. After laying down for a useless, restless hour, my mind still focused on the project issues, I headed out to the garage. Working on the cabinets would let my mind get away from the coding marathon. Grandma came out and checked on me. She was dressed in one of her summer dresses, and brought me a snack. "You look tired, Billy," she said. She rubbed my shoulders. "Maybe we've taken on too much work. You could hire an assistant. We can afford it." Being tired probably made me a little cranky. "I'm fine. I'm just going to finish this up." My tone wasn't all that friendly. I wasn't in the mood to play at being Billy. "I'm serious. Maybe you should take a break. Why don't you come in, and I'll make you feel all better," she said, her teasing hand running down my rear. That was all I needed. I doubted that Dana would be that understanding. "Not now, Dana. I'm fine." She didn't answer and was pouting when she left me. It was almost lunch, when Grandma came back out. "Enough!" she snapped, shocking me. "You're exhausted. You look like you haven't slept in a week. The work isn't that important. If we need some more time, I'll get it for us." Alright, I'm an idiot sometimes. "Let me guess. You'll be naughty, right?" I felt bad as soon as the words left my mouth. She looked shocked. Then she ran away from me, back into the house. Talk about feeling guilty. Enough was enough. I was too tired to think straight, and I was moody. I put away my tools, and went looking for her. She was in her room with the door closed, and I decided to let her be. By that evening, she wouldn't even remember my screw-up. I took a quick shower, and climbed between the sheets, hoping for a few hours sleep before the house filled up again. I woke slowly, to a familiar feeling. I was still in a sleepy haze, when I reached down and stroked her hair. "Dana," I murmured. Tilting my head up, I looked down and the wrong Dana was sucking my cock. "Dana?" She pulled her lips off of me, and ducked her head. "Please don't look at me, Billy. Not when I'm doing this." It seemed like a weird comment. I couldn't quite wrap my head around the whole situation. Grandma got even weirder, grabbing a pillow and holding it up between us, as her mouth took me in again. It was like she wanted to do it in private. Not that I was going to argue. Grandma was pretty damn good at what she was doing. I knew it was messed up, but a hard cock has no conscience. I let her go on for a couple of minutes before I pulled the pillow away so I could see her. She immediately stopped her actions, turning away. Her hand was still on my cock, stroking me. The ring on her finger bothered me. "Please, Billy! It's embarrassing," she said. I sat up and saw that she was still fully dressed. A glance at the cock told me it was a little after two. I thanked my lucky stars that I didn't have carpool duty. "You promised you wouldn't look, Billy. You promised!" I lifted her frail body and pulled her up the bed, laying her down next to me. "What's wrong Dana?" She pouted. "I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. I know I'm not supposed to interfere with your work when you're in your shop. But you need to take care of yourself." She clung to me. "I'm scared, Billy. I keep seeing you out there, collapsed, on the floor. It's so real. I-I-I don't know what I'd do without you." Her words haunted me. I was getting a feeling that she was remembering what had happened to Grandpa, even when she was living in the past. I hugged her. "I'm sorry I was cross with you. I was just tired. I took your advice, didn't I?" She nodded slowly, looking up at me with the most trusting eyes, glistening with tears. "I love you so much, Billy. What's wrong?" "What do you mean?" "You ... You're different. You never want to come in for a little treat anymore. I used to always be able to get you to take a break for some love time. Are you tired of me? You don't have another girl, do you?" How do you tell a crying seventy year old woman that the man she's in bed with is different? Not her husband. I know I couldn't. I gave her a squeeze, and a quick kiss. "I'm sorry. I've got a lot on my mind. I haven't been a very good husband lately, have I?" She shook her head. "No, Billy, you're a great husband, and we're doing so well, it's just ... I don't know, something's wrong." I ran my hand down her back, until it was resting on her butt. I gave her a little squeeze, and she giggled. "That thing you were doing, that was really nice." My god, the woman almost turned purple from embarrassment. She turned her head away. "You said we wouldn't have to talk about it, that you wouldn't peek." Then she looked up at me, with a tiny grin. "You really do like that, don't you?" "Yes, I do. It's amazing." "Jeanie said you would. She said a lot of women do it now. You don't think I'm a ... a bad person, do you?" I wanted to laugh. "No Dana, my love. I think it's a loving thing to do for your husband." She nodded eagerly. "I never thought I could do something like that. Only, well, you know the kind of women that do that. But I knew you wanted me to. I knew it." Her hand had wandered back down to my cock, which has lost most of its stiffness. Feeling her cool hand holding my shaft helped remedy that. "I love when you do that," I said. "Why? It can't feel as good as, well, you know." She was blushing again. "I guess it's just the idea that you would do it for me. That you love me that much." That's when I got the big smile. "But I do love you that much! Nobody could love anyone as much as I love you. I'll do anything for you, Billy." She turned her head away, blushing again, her voice soft. "I ... I'll even let you watch, if you want. If you don't think I'm too dirty." I chuckled. "Don't you get it, Dana? I'm yours, and you're mine. All of me, one hundred percent is yours. And vice-versa, I hope. You can't be too dirty for me. The naughtier you are with me, the more I know you're mine, totally." She smiled. "I am, you know. Totally, completely yours. When I'm ... naughty with anyone else, that's just teasing. Playing around. Nobody else will be allowed to put their thing inside me, ever. Just you, my handsome man. And that includes my very naughty mouth." She sat up, her hand stroking my cock. "Now lay back and relax, and let me show you how dirty I can be for the only man that matters." I probably could have stopped things there, but I didn't. I watched her move between my legs, and lick my shaft, before putting it in her mouth. She looked up at me, and smiled, then pulled away. "You're watching." "I can't help myself. You're beautiful. I love you so much." She giggled. "I love you more, and I'm about to prove it." She took me back in her mouth, and when she caught me watching her again, she gave me a wink, and went back to work. I only lasted a couple of minutes. There was something so taboo, so wrong, so dirty, that it was driving me crazy. My wife's blowjobs, which weren't all that common, were a lot better. But this, this was heart stopping. "I'm close, Dana," I moaned. "Gonna ..." I gasped when she pulled her head away and stroked me rapidly. I groaned for her as I erupted, making a mess, all over her hand and my belly and crotch. She finished me, then climbed off the bed, returning with a towel, one end moistened. She cleaned me up, and gave my cock a little kiss. Then she climbed up the bed, and gave me a big one. "Finish your nap. I hope you know now, just how much I love you. There is no man in the world, no money amount, that would make me do that for anyone else." I kissed her, long and slow. "I know. Ours is a love for the ages." She smiled. "Sleep. I've got a dinner to take care of. And you're going to need your strength. I've got plans for you tonight, buster." The next time I woke, it was the other Dana climbing into bed with me. "Project all caught up?" she asked, cuddling up to me. "All done for now." "Dinner's almost ready. Otherwise, I'd let you have your way with me," she teased, her hand rubbing where her grandmother had been not that long ago. "We have to talk," I said. "About?" "Grandma. It's gotten bad. A lot worse." "I know, Mom told me about Roger," she was actually giggling. I imagine that wouldn't be for long. "No, Dana. I'm serious, it's a lot worse." That seemed to get her attention. Her hand stopped moving and she rose up on one elbow, looking down at me. "What? What happened?" I didn't know how to put it gently, so I just told her. "I was sleeping, and I woke up to Grandma giving me a blowjob." It was like I'd slapped her. "You're kidding, right?" I shook my head slowly. "Not at all. It was one of those days when she was calling me Billy. I was working out in the workshop, and she got mad at me for working so hard, and said I looked exhausted. I ... I was cranky in my response, but she was right, I was zonked, so I went to bed to take a nap. When I woke up, she was, well, you know." "I can't believe this," Dana said. She sounded more shocked then mad. "You stopped her, of course." "I, uh, did, for a while—" "For a while!?" "She was upset. It's hard to explain. She was telling me how she was scared; she kept seeing me collapsed on the floor in the workshop." "Oh God! She was remembering!" "She was so upset, I couldn't tell her I wasn't Grandpa, that he really was dead, on the workshop floor. I ... oh crap!" I said, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Dana. I didn't mean to. But I couldn't turn her away. I let her. Hell, who am I kidding? I even encouraged her." "Damn it, Logan! This isn't like kissing her!" "Don't you think I know that? That's why I had to tell you right away. I feel like crap. I'm so very sorry, Dana. I'm going to stop this. I won't let her call me Billy anymore. This isn't right." She was quiet for a moment. "So you're going to just shut her down. Tell her she's hallucinating or something?" I sighed. "What am I supposed to do, Dana? What the hell am I supposed to do?" She rolled over, lying on her back. "I don't know. This is really messed up. You cheated on me, Logan. I never thought it could happen. I would have said it was impossible." "I'm sorry. I promise it will never happen again. Never. I didn't go looking for it, and I swear, if it was anyone else, any other situation, it wouldn't happen. I just didn't know what to do." We lay there, quiet, both lost in our thoughts. I know I felt bad, confused, torn. Then she rolled onto her side, staring at me. It shocked me when a little smile showed up on her lips. "How was it? Was she good?" I was stunned. She kept looking at me, finally raising one eyebrow, waiting for my response. "It was pretty bad, and pretty incredible at the same time." "Oh really?" "She wasn't that good. From the way she talked, it sounded like when she was young, good girls didn't do things like that. She didn't want me to see her when she did it. It was really weird, and she was obviously very inexperienced." "And that was incredible," Dana said, the sarcasm heavy in her voice. "Of course not. But it was the idea, that she would do that, even when she thought it was a terrible, filthy thing to do, she'd do it out of love. That was pretty incredible. Of course I couldn't help but thinking about how ... taboo it was. How wrong." "Of course." "What do you want me to say, Dana? You're ten times as good, on the rare occasion you're willing. It was just that, well, how badly she wanted me to be happy, to show how much she loved me. That was pretty intense." "The rare occasion?" Dana said angrily. Oops. I'd stepped in it. "Be honest. You know we don't do it very often." "Jesus H. Christ, Logan! Do I ever turn you down for sex? Aren't I willing, and loving? Do you really have any complaints? I think we have sex more than any other couple I know!" This wasn't going well. "I think we have a great love life, and you're incredibly generous in bed. I have no complaints. It was just an observation. It doesn't mean anything. So I only get a blowjob a couple of times a year. I'm not complaining." The Marital Bed "It sure sounded like you were," she said. I reached out for her, and thankfully, she didn't pull away. "I love when you do it. Sure, I'd like more, but it isn't that big a deal. I'm happy with you, and our love life. Even if the ratio of oral sex is heavily skewed." The fact was, I did it to her a lot more often. A lot. She pouted, and I saw her Grandma's pout. "I thought you liked doing that to me. You said you did." "I love to do it. I love to see you come for me, and how excited you get. Stop reading anything into my words that I'm not saying. Our love life is great. Yes, it's rare that you suck me to completion, or for even more than a few seconds, and yes, I go down on you a lot. But I'm not complaining, I was just pointing out the truth, stupidly I guess. The truth seems to be getting me into nothing but trouble." "That's not fair, Logan!" she hissed. "This isn't about being honest. You cheated on me with my own Grandma!" "I know. The first time I kissed her, the first time she felt me up, I cheated on you, and you told me not to stop, to play along, to keep her happy. I tried to do that, and I fucked up. I'm sorry, Ok? I'll stop it all. I knew it was a mistake from the beginning. I told you it was weird. Everyone thought it was so funny, poor Logan, having to pretend to be Grandpa. So funny until I woke up to her mouth on my cock!" "But I never thought it would go that far! It was just supposed to be, I don't know, to keep her happy," Dana said. "Sure. Pretend to be her husband, whenever she got confused. She was crying, Dana, telling me I'd changed. She was upset because I wasn't joining her for quickies. She asked if I was tired of her, if I had another girlfriend. 'No, I don't have a girlfriend, I have a wife.' Is that what I was supposed to say? 'Yes, I've changed. I'm not your husband, I'm your granddaughter's husband. Your husband is dead.' Wouldn't that just make her happy? Jesus, this is messed up!" Dana nodded. "I know. It's not all your fault, I know that. It's just hard to accept, I guess. You understand why this would bother me?" "Of course I do. It bothers the hell out of me. I never wanted to cheat on you, ever. I feel like a total shit. Total and complete shit. I've fucked up everything, and don't know for the life of me what I should have done differently. Maybe I should put a lock on the door." That actually got a chuckle out of my wife. "Somehow, I don't think that would have stopped anything. Grandma is a pretty resourceful woman." I grinned. "You're right. Maybe we should go down to Condoms-r-Us, and see if we can buy me one of those chastity things, a cock cage. You can keep the key. That'll stop her." She smirked. "Don't tempt me, buster. You have no idea how good that idea sounds to me right about now." I pulled her close. "I'm sorry. Truly. It won't happen again." She let me kiss her, even participating after a few seconds. "Was she really bad?" Dana asked. "Not bad. Inexperienced, I'd say." "And I'm ten times better?" "At least." I don't know where the conversation would have gone, if not for the knocking on the door. "Grandma says to tell the lovebirds that dinner's ready in five minutes," Billy shouted through the door, giggling. Dinner was amazing, and Grandma? As good as it gets, practically walking on air, a joy to be around. She was playing with the kids, her laughter ringing through the house. Later she was telling stories, entertaining us all, able to talk about Grandpa and smile, even laugh. The atmosphere between Dana and I had started out pretty chilly, but we were both swept up in Grandma's good humor. Once everyone else was in bed, we retired. I was a little nervous that we would end up continuing our argument from earlier. I returned from the bathroom, to find my wife staring at our bed. It only took me a moment to notice she wasn't so much staring at the bed, as at the woodcut scene Grandpa had carved into the end of the chest, of the three women, Grandma, Mom, and Dana. I walked up to her from behind, and wrapped her in my arms, hoping for the best. Dana reached up and held my arms in place. "Did you see how happy she was? That was my Grandma from when I was a little girl, always full of stories." I kissed her on the neck. "You were pretty lucky. You had a great family growing up." "I know," she said. She turned in my arms, facing me, and kissed me. Then to my complete shock, she dropped to her knees, and took me in her mouth. "You don't have to do that," I said. She looked up at me, but kept going, getting me hard, which didn't take long. Then she pulled away and dragged me to bed. It was nice, and something she did every now and then, sucking me to get me ready for a little play. Once in the bed she pushed me down and went back to sucking. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was showing off. She was definitely giving me her best, which could be pretty damn good when she wanted it to be. After several minutes, I understood she wasn't just warming me up. "That is so wonderful, Dana," I said, brushing her hair back from her face. She looked up at me, and increased her effort. As I got closer, she kept it up, almost eager. It was mind-blowing. "I'm close baby," I said, pushing her off. She brushed my hand away, and kept going, looking up at me again, as my groans became more insistent. "Oh God, Dana," I groaned, before losing the battle to hang on even a moment longer. I came, hard, groaning, and thrusting my fingers into her hair, holding her head, while I exploded, volley after painful volley accepted by my incredible wife. When my shaking had stopped, and I was gasping on the bed, she continued sucking softly, until my cock slowly collapsed in on itself. Then she climbed up the bed, grinning. "That. Was. Amazing," I said. She smiled, then leaned down for a kiss. I wasn't about to refrain. It was the first time I'd come in her mouth. One other time I'd started to, and she'd exploded at me. It was pretty ugly, and if not for our bed, and my abundant apologies, I don't think I'd have survived. It was made very clear to me that she wouldn't do that. I was afraid I was going to get a 'surprise' when I kissed her, but what I received was a kiss of love and passion I hadn't expected. An intense expression of her desire, that soon had me hard again, and she mounted me, while our lips never parted. She was breathing hard, still kissing me, when I felt her tremble, and she squeaked adorably into my mouth. She had come, only moments after our joining. It was incredible. "God, I love you so much," I said, grabbing her hips and thrusting into her. I watched her familiar actions, as she rode me, one hand holding the top of the headboard, bracing herself, while the other traced the words written there. Our names and the names of our children. "You really do love me, don't you?" she said. "Do you even have to ask? You saved me Dana. My life was nothing before you and your family took me in. I was nothing. You were, and still are, the best thing that ever happened to me. The mother of my three wonderful children. I love you more than I think you could ever imagine." She nodded, and I saw tears in her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry I don't do that more often. I love you too." I pulled her down into my arms, kissing her tears away. "I know. You don't have to do that to prove it." "No, I want to. Like Grandma, I need you to know I love you, I'd do anything for you." She gave me a little twisted grin. "Not my favorite dessert in the world, mind you. But I'll do that for you anytime you want." She started to pull away. "Right now if you want. I'll do it again. You deserve that and so much more." I actually had a bit of a struggle to keep her impaled on my cock, and not let her get loose. "Let's not get carried away," I teased. "It was wonderful, amazing, but not near as good as being inside you." "But you said—" "I said I loved it, and it was rare, but I wasn't complaining. I love being inside you more." I held her hips, thrusting into her. "Honestly, and I'm being completely honest here, if I could have my choice, I'd love for you to suck me, get me hard, keep me going for a long time, watching that gorgeous face of yours, that tempting mouth holding my cock, until I urged you off, so I could enter you and finish inside of you." "Really? You'd like that better?" "Oh yeah. I love being inside you. But every now and then, I'd like to feel what you just did. I don't need to come in your mouth, baby. Not that it wasn't absolutely mind-blowing that you would do that for me, but I don't need that. I'd much rather be balls deep in your amazing pussy when I come." That got me a huge grin. "You've got yourself a deal. I had a good time showing off for you. The ending, not so much. I'd much rather have you come inside me, too." We got quiet, and we made slow, easy love, enjoying each other. When we were done, I was holding her, pleasantly exhausted, and maybe, just maybe mentally patting myself on the day for getting it three times in one day. "You saw how she was," Dana whispered. "We can't take that away from her." "No, baby," I argued. "We have to find a better solution." She turned and move against me in a lover's embrace, clinging to my side. "She was so happy, like I haven't seen her in ages. I want that for her. We both know why she was like that." "No. I screwed up today, and I'm not going to cheat on you again. It's not worth it." She kissed me. "Hush, Logan. You didn't cheat on me today. Grandma was with Grandpa today, and it made her happy. Don't stop making her happy. We can deal with it." "Are you sure?" She nodded. "I think we should keep this secret, just between us. The whole family doesn't have to know. Is that Ok?" "Of course. If that's what you want." "It is. I know you love her, Logan. You've never hidden that from any of us. Just like you loved Grandpa. Like you love Mom and Dad. There's nothing wrong with that. I understand why you did it, and it wasn't because you don't love me, or that you need something, someone else." "Of course not. You are everything I want." "Good. So we have an understanding? When Grandma is with Billy, be what she needs, Logan. Don't hide it from me, though. I couldn't stand that. If ... If I want details, I'm going to need you to be honest with me." "Absolutely. I couldn't stand to keep it from you, anyway. The guilt would eat me up." She was quiet, and I wondered where her thoughts were, and how she could come to that decision. Then my thoughts wandered to where the future with Grandma might lead. * * * It didn't take long to find out about Grandma. Two days later, I had finished a short piece of code to complete a new feature they wanted to add at the last minute. My part was pretty simple, about twenty lines of code, a couple of hours total effort including testing and checking it in. I was feeling pretty damn good when I dressed down and headed for the workshop. The cabinets were close to finished, and I was wondering what I was going to do with them, when Billy's girl showed up. She was already in a great mood, bringing me a snack. Then she was in my arms, kissing me, rubbing my front. "Anything else I could interest you in?" she teased. I heard the echo of her words, how I'd changed, how she couldn't entice me anymore, if I'd gotten tired of her. I kissed her, holding her in my arms, running my hands down her back, and rubbing her bottom. Then I was pulling up the bottom of her dress, and my hands were on her bare skin, while she moaned into my mouth, her hand busy between my legs. I was hard as granite for her. "Someone's naughty," I whispered. "No panties, Dana?" She smiled. "I guess someone would have to be pretty naughty to find that out. You going to do something about it, handsome man? Or do I need to find someone else to be naughty with?" Her preference was obvious, as she tore off my shirt, and pulled down my pants, fighting with my toolbelt, until I was standing before her, in a t-shirt, and naked down to my ankles. She squealed delightfully, when I pulled her dress up around her waist and turned her around. I hesitated a moment, thinking about what I was about to do. If Dana really was alright with my being 'Billy'. Then I was rubbing the head against her opening, back and forth, once again surprised that a woman her age could be that moist, but then again, what did I know? It wasn't like I'd been having sex with a bevy of senior citizens. She was moaning and encouraging me, when I eased it into her. Grandma was as tight as any girl I could remember. Tighter. I wondered briefly when the last time she'd had sex was, and then I was lost in the feeling. I held her hips and thrust into her, while she pushed back, leaning against the workbench, accepting me eagerly. "Bang me, Billy. Bang your naughty girl!" I did, and I enjoyed it immensely. Maybe that makes me a pervert. I could have cared less. Grandma was very verbal, urging me on, telling me how wonderful I was. The best, the absolute best. Her pussy might have been old, but it fit like a glove. I don't think I lasted five minutes, before I was pumping my seed into my wife's grandmother. And loving every moment of it. When I had finished, she turned around, straightening her dress. Then she took the napkin off my snack plate, and wiped my cock gently, before giving it a little kiss. She looked up at me as she did that, giving me a wink. Then she pulled up my boxers and pants, taking her time getting me dressed again. Quiet the whole time, she gave me a warm kiss when she was done. "Feeling better?" she asked. "Incredible." "Don't you mean Out-fucking-standing? Isn't that what you like to say?" she pouted. "Out-fucking-standing, and then some. That was a pretty naughty little kiss you gave me at the end." She wore a huge grin as she moved up against me. She reached up and touched my lips. "This one?" Then her other hand gave my package a squeeze. "Or this one?" I put my hand on hers, moving her hand against my still thick cock. "This one, definitely this one." "You only have to ask, handsome man. Whatever you want, whenever you want. I'm yours totally." I'll admit it, I was feeling more than a little guilty, until I walked through the kitchen. She was singing, practically dancing around the space. The fragrance was heavy in the air. "Roast? You know how much I love your roast, Dana." She laughed, scurrying over for a quick kiss, before sending me on my way. "Yes I do know how much you love my roast, darling man. I know some other things you like too, so I expect you to eat hardy tonight, you're going to need your strength." I watched her walk away, stunned at the progression in our relationship. I was upset with myself, even after all the talks with Dana. I'd taken the lead. I'd fucked my wife's grandmother, and I'd loved every last minute of it. And I was an adulterer, in every sense of the word. Closing up shop, I snuck around the back of the house, showered and changed. I peeked in on Grandma, singing an Elvis song and dancing around the kitchen, while she prepared dinner. Damn, she looked happy. With half an hour to go before I had to do my share of car-pooling, I left early, driving around aimlessly, wondering how the hell I got in this crazy situation. * * * Dana didn't blow up. She did insist on getting me hard, using her mouth again, twice in one week, a record for us, since our honeymoon. It wasn't until I was comfortably inside her before she asked for details. I told her how Grandma had come to me, pantiless. How she'd undressed me, and what we'd done. I even allowed for how I didn't last all that long. "No good?" Dana asked. "No, it was good. I enjoyed it a lot. A lot more than I expected to, to be honest. She's noisy, talkative." I couldn't help but grin. "Now I know who you get it from." She laughed, and smacked me playfully. "I don't think that's genetic. Although I may have to ask Alice." I was pleasantly surprised there was no immediate fallout. Dana was in a great mood. "You're really fine with this?" She giggled, bouncing up and down on my cock, "With this? Always." "You know what I mean, ornery girl." "Don't you mean 'naughty' girl?" she said grinning. "I can be just as naughty as Grandma." She paused and gave me a long warm kiss. "I'm fine. You saw her tonight. We gave that to her. You did your part, mine is to deal with it." She did a little more bouncing, setting her tits in motion. "I thought I'd be pissed when you actually did it," she said. "I'm not. I think it's cute. Banging, Grandma." She giggled again. "Bang me, Billy, Bang your naughty girl!" She squealed playfully as I put her on her back, and gave her a thorough 'Billy' banging. I had her screaming into a pillow before I was through with her. When I was done, she was lying there, spent, with a silly grin on her face. "Jesus, Logan! That was incredible. You're going to have to bang Grandma a lot more often, if that's what I get. Holy shit!" Yeah, I was feeling pretty damn good about myself. About everything. * * * Maybe I was looking for it. I got dressed in my workshop clothing every day except carpool day, and spent a lot of time out there. Grandma showed up most days, looking for Billy. It was becoming more frequent, that she would step into her mental time machine and wander back in time. I have never, and I mean never gotten that much sex in my life. Almost every day I was 'banging' Billy's girl, and honestly loving every minute of it. And Dana got the full scoop each evening, with my cock buried inside of her. Our sex life had been pretty damn good, having sex typically three to four times a week, often twice in a row on weekends. But this was incredible. Dana was wearing me out almost every single night. And I'd estimate that more than half of the time, it started with oral sex. Life was beyond good. Grandma was always willing, eager. I had to wonder if she'd always been that way, back in the day. All I had to do was hint I wanted sex, and the skirt or dress would go up, and the panties down. I had to remind myself that she wasn't twenty, and take it easy a few times. I didn't want to hurt her. Our new favorite quickie was to go in the house, so much cooler than the workshop, sit on the ottoman with her facing me, sucking face, with my cock buried inside of her, until I lost my patience. She'd laugh as I put her on her back, and 'banged' her good. I had liked bending her over the end of the couch, and pounding her from behind, but after doing that a couple of times, she told me she preferred 'face' time. That's what she and Grandpa used to call the ottoman thing. And it made me happy to make her happy. I was learning to ask what we should do, hinting at what we should call it, getting tutored in the ways of Grandpa. I never failed to tell her that it was out-fucking-standing, that she was beautiful, and to tell her I loved her. All of it true. Her mental journey wasn't always linear. Sometimes she seemed to go further back, sometimes not so much. The giveaway was oral. At some point in her past, Grandma had made a 180 about it. Really young Grandma wasn't having any of it. But there came a time when she walked out to the workshop, blew me where I was standing, to completion, then gave me a quick messy kiss. "There, that should hold you for a while," she said. Dana got a kick out of that. "Aww, poor baby! No Grandma pussy for you today? How will you ever survive?" I fucked the brains out of her that night, and she used her mouth to get me up the second time. When I was completely done, she leaned over and gave me a kiss, smirking. "There, that should hold you for a while." The Marital Bed * * * It was about two weeks into the almost daily 'quickies' that things changed again. Grandma had been solidly in 'young' Grandma mode all day long. We'd had sex twice, which was a first for us, and she'd made her world famous buttermilk fried chicken. I had abandoned her and the kids to do a walk-through of the addition. It was finally done, had passed all the city inspections, and we'd completed the finish work, with paint, carpeting, and tiling the bathroom. It was about time, they'd run over, but they'd done a terrific job. I signed on the bottom line, and watched them leave for hopefully the last time. I was ready to move out of our tiny cramped bedroom, for the more spacious - and more private - addition. It had taken almost two hours. When I returned to the house, the kids were already putting the sides on the table. Dana was on her phone, texting something. Grandma came over to me and gave me a big wet kiss. "We have guests, Billy, why don't you change?" Crap! In front of the kids even. How could we have never planned for this? I looked over and saw Dana staring at us in shock. No more so than I. I quickly changed into something casual, and ran a brush through my hair. By the time I came out, Dana and the kids were seated. Grandma was carrying a big platter of her chicken to the table. "Why don't you introduce me to your pretty friend?" Grandma said, and I was nervous about the edge in her voice. She didn't seem pleased. Fuck! "Uhm, this is Dana, and these are her kids, Billy, Roger, and Caroline." I held Grandma's seat for her, before taking my own. "Caroline. I always loved that name," Grandma said. Subtlety wasn't my Caroline's strong suit. "Why are you talking and acting funny, Grandma?" After a couple of weeks of 'happy' Grandma every evening, I guess the kids weren't ready for this Grandma. "Excuse me?" she said, and I knew I had to do something. I stood up and asked Grandma to help me with something in the workshop. I know, it was a lousy excuse. "How could you, Billy? Bringing your floozy in here, with her kids!" Her hand shot out and she slapped me, hard. "Stop it, Dana!" I snapped. "You know I don't have any floozies. You're my woman." "Then explain yourself!" She stomped away turning angrily. "Really, Billy! She's not even very pretty, if you're going to replace me, I'd expect something better. Well, I won't have it!" My mind was racing, looking for a story she'd accept, anything. And coming up blank, damn it. "That's it? Nothing to say for yourself, you lousy bastard!" "Donald!" I blurted. I knew that Grandpa had an older brother that nobody talked about. Something about running off, abandoning his responsibilities. He wasn't part of the family anymore, but in the workshop was an old picture of Grandpa and his brother, standing in front of his father, holding a line of fish. Grandpa might have been 10 in the picture. It's the only picture of Great-Uncle Donald I'd ever seen. Grandma looked at me in wide-eyed surprise. Her trembling hand moved up to cover her mouth. "My God! He ... he wouldn't, not again ... oh, the poor thing ..." She gazed up at me with tears in her eyes. "You should have told me, Billy. I understand how difficult this is for you, but you could have told me." She shook her head slowly. "That no-good bastard." She opened the door quietly, peeked inside, and closed it again without saying anything. Then she took me by the hand, and dragged me to the side, away from the door. "There's no denying the family resemblance, that middle boy could be the spit out of his mouth." She heaved a huge sigh. "They're family, Billy. You know what that means." "Uh, what does it mean?" I was seriously confused by this time. She pinched me, hard. "Don't be like that. The fact that it's your brother doesn't matter. They're family. We'll take them in, of course. We have the space; you can put the kids in one room, and his woman in the other." She moved in and hugged me. "I know this is difficult, Billy, but you have to remember it's not their fault. Try to be nice to them. Please." Then it was off to an awkward dinner, with Grandma insisting the kids call her Auntie, Dana making funny eyes at me, Grandma talking about the business, and everyone avoiding talking about the mysterious Uncle Donald, thank God. While clearing the table I had about twenty seconds to fill in Dana. "Y'all are Uncle Donald's abandoned wife and kids. We're taking you in." "Uncle Donald? Uh ... Ok," she said. I was sent off to make space for the abandoned wife and kids, while Grandma gave them the tour, telling them to feel at home. We made an early night of it, and Grandma cornered me. "Now don't you go sniffin' around that woman, Billy. She's gonna be lookin' for someone to take care of her, and her youngins, and it won't be you taking care of her needs, you understand?" "Of course, Dana. I've got you. What would I want with her?" That seemed to settle things a bit, but it was shortly after that Grandma announced it was bed time, lockin' up the house, turning off the lights, showing the wife and kids to their rooms, and dragging me off to hers. Damn, this was a mess of the highest order. I guess Grandma had it in her mind to reinforce the order of things. I had her in her bed for the first time. She was almost frenzied, like near fucked my brains out. I didn't know the old woman had it in her. The second time was better, quieter, and when she rode me near the end, I watched her trace our names on the headboard, so much like her granddaughter. It was about an hour later that I slipped out of her bed, while she lay sleeping, and snuck down to my room, where I had a lot of explaining to do. Dana was mostly Ok with everything. She understood that it was both of our faults, for not recognizing this probably would have happened eventually. It took her a good bit of effort to get me hard enough to re-establish her position as my wife. "Your my husband, damn it!" she growled, while riding me. "Don't you forget it neither. Mine!" "Of course," I tried to reassure her. "She'll probably have forgotten all about it tomorrow." * * * Grandma had, and she hadn't. She woke late as she often did, but it was Saturday, and when she came out, we were all there, Dana making pancakes and sausages, while I was trying to explain to the kids that sometimes Grandma thought I was Grandpa, and that they should try to play along. Grandma was moving slow, and seemed to be in one of her confused states. That was until I took the boys out to the workshop to help me stain the finished cabinets. She came out a little later, and I saw her hesitate at the door, looking us all over, before heading back in. Half an hour later she was out of her nightgown, and back in one of her light summer dresses. Her yellow one, my favorite. Or Billy's favorite. Hell, somebody's favorite. "Why don't you young gentlemen check in with your mother," Grandma said, addressing the boys. As soon as they were gone, she was in my arms. "She told you?" I nodded, with no better answer. I had no idea what she was talking about, unless this was some kind of continuation about yesterday's episode. "That Donnie was always a good for nothin'. We'll take her and her boys in, of course. It will be good for Caroline to have someone to play with." Grandma gave me a kiss. "She's a pretty one, I'll admit. I don't have to worry about you, do I?" So now Caroline was our daughter? Not Dana's and Uncle Donald's? This was getting too confusing. "With you around? What do you think?" Early afternoon, Grandma took a nap, while I took the kids out shopping. When I came home, Mom and Dad had shown up, huddled with Mom in the living room, while Grandma made dinner. I was barely in the door, when Grandma spoke to me. "Logan, did you get the brown sugar?" I put the grocery bags on the counter, and put away everything on her list. That earned me a kiss on the cheek. "You're a good man, Logan. Thank you for putting up with me." That damn near brought tears to my eyes. I gave her a hug. "This is your home. Thank you for putting up with us." I started to pull away, and she grabbed my arm. "Logan?" "Yes?" "My ... my bad moments, they're getting longer aren't they? I can't seem to remember much of the last few weeks. Is it bad?" She looked upset, and it hurt me to see her like that. Especially after what we'd been through lately. "They're more frequent, and longer," I admitted. "But they're not bad. Sometimes you think I'm Grandpa." She gasped, and put her hand over her mouth, one of her gestures I was coming to adore. Then she giggled. "Oh! I guess I can see that, you're near as handsome a man as my Billy was at your age. I'm not ... misbehavin' am I?" I know I shouldn't have done it, but I teased her a little. "You mean naughty?" She blushed so cutely. "Billy and I, we had a very loving relationship. You and me?" I hugged her and gave her a little wink. "You're a great kisser, Dana." "Logan!" she hissed, looking around. "You're a married man!" "I am, and very happily married, with a beautiful wife, and an equally beautiful Grandma. It's all Ok, Dana. I promise. You have nothing to worry about." It was another great afternoon and evening for Grandma, and stayed that way throughout the weekend. It was probably the longest stretch of lucidity we'd had in a while. Things were looking up. * * * The following week was more like it had been earlier in the month. Three days of Billy's girl, sex twice, including a naughty, shy blowjob, great afternoons with the real Grandma, and incredible nights with Dana, still doing her damnedest to remind me who was married to whom, with oral sex at least every other time, both ways. My home life was pretty incredible. Work was another issue. We'd had another big problem, and by Friday, I was working non-stop trying to craft a design fix. These were the worst. It required a lot of effort, extended communications with the team, multiple-levels of integration and testing, all in a mad rush. The fallout was it looked like I was going to miss out on a family outing. We were all supposed to head down to SeaWorld, that weekend. Mom and Dad were joining us. Alice had planned to take care of Grandma while we were gone. But with the project in the state it was in, I knew I was going to have to work all weekend. In the end, it was decided not to disappoint the kids, and they'd all head down to SeaWorld, with Alice taking my place. Grandma was fuzzy Saturday, while I toiled away in my basement office, only coming up for lunch and to use the bathroom. That afternoon I had my breakthrough, and was able to check in a fully-functioning sub-system. I was ahead of the rest of the team, that's why they paid me the big bucks. I was worn out when I came upstairs asking Grandma if she had plans for dinner or if she wanted me to take her out. I was surprised when she said she'd love to go to dinner, we hadn't been out to eat in ages, which was true. I showered and put on jeans and a western shirt, not my usual garb. I called ahead and made reservations at our favorite steak house. When Grandma came out, she was looking her prettiest, all made up, wearing a dress and her pearls. Her eyes lit up as she saw me. "Don't you look handsome tonight?" "Not near as pretty as you," I said. She walked up and gave me a hug and then a kiss. A real kiss, setting off my alarms. "It's been ages, Billy, thank you." Dinner was nice, if overly flirtatious. Grandma got a little tipsy on two glasses of beer, which was something I couldn't remember seeing. I'm pretty sure she had a great time, and I know I did. At home, she dragged me straight to bed. Tipsy Grandma was a lot of fun in the sack. Grandma rarely went naked. Never around me. She changed in the bathroom, and always wore a nighty to bed. During the day, when we had our quickies, or even not-so-quickies, she always wore dresses or the occasional skirt. That night, for the first time, she came to me in just her panties. She was blushing when she came out of the bathroom, and insisted I turn off the lights. We made love, long slow and tender, and it was great. Then she went down on me, and we had a more playful time, while I ended up taking her doggy for the first time. She enjoyed that one a lot, coming for me loudly. To be fair, I liked it a lot as well. A whole lot. I ended up falling asleep with Grandma in my arms, as content as I could be. "Logan!" I was startled awake, with Grandma pulling the sheet up to her chin, slapping at me, looking frightened. It took me a few seconds to adjust to the situation. "Grandma?" "What are you doing in my bed?" she shrieked, smacking me again. Shit. Not good. I tried to calm her. "Do you remember anything about yesterday?" She shook her head nervously. "Nothing about William's Steak House?" "No," she whispered. I reached out and took her hand in mine. "Dana, you know that sometimes you think I'm Billy, right?" It took her a few seconds to respond. It was with tears. "My Billy's gone." It broke my heart, and I pulled her back down into the bed, holding her. "I know. The best man I ever knew." She nodded, letting me hold her while she cried. I stroked her back, trying to calm her, kissing the top of her head. "Did we ...?" "Yes. We do it a lot. You're pretty incredible, you know. A very sexy, very naughty girl." She looked up at me, with a tiny little smile. "A lot?" "Almost every day. Twice last night." "Oh!" She did that hand over the mouth thing, and it made me smile. "Dana knows. She wants us to be together, when you think I'm your Billy. You're so happy for hours, even days afterward." "But you're my granddaughter's husband!" "We're family, Dana. We all love you." I leaned back, drawing her with me. She lay against my side. "This is kind of crazy," she said. "Where is everyone?" "They went to SeaWorld. It's just us two until late tonight." She was quiet, her hand running over my chest. She turned her head, and kissed my shoulder lightly. "You're a better man than any of us deserve, Logan." You have to understand, this was the woman I'd been loving most of the summer. She was hurting, concerned. I took her chin and tilted her head up so I could kiss her. "If I'm a better man, it's because you and Grandpa made me that way. You remember how I was." She chuckled. "You were a little shit. But we all recognized that there was more to you than that, and Dana loved you." Grandma pouted. "You're Dana's husband, not mine. This isn't right." "I love you, Dana. I love both my Dana's. We've talked about this a lot. This isn't the first time I've been in your bed at night. It's Ok." I grinned, and gave her a kiss with a little tongue. "It's better than Ok, you're a wild woman." Her blushing was adorable. "I'm twice your age, Logan." I ran my hand down her side, until it rested on her bottom. "And usually twice as horny. Grandpa was a lucky man." That got a smile out of her. "Yes he was, wasn't he? But he was a good man and deserving." "Aren't I deserving?" I teased. Her eyes opened wide, and she laughed. Then her hand was running down my front, holding my growing erection. "You're certainly a good man. I still can't believe we're here. In my marital bed." I laughed, tugging her closer, squeezing her bottom. "Believe it, beautiful." Her hand was moving slowly, squeezing a bit, feeling my hardness. "We're naked," she whispered. "I never sleep naked." "You were a little tipsy last night, and came to bed in your panties. We lost those pretty quickly. You wore me out, wild thing." She was blushing again, her hand stroking me. Then she was kissing me, tugging me toward her. I got the hint and moved over her, between her legs. "Gently," she said. "It's been a long time, Logan." I nodded. "Almost eight hours." "Maybe for you, but for me it feels like it's been years." Her hand was holding my erection, moving it, guiding me home. It took a bit of effort. Grandma was different than Billy's girl. But we kept with it, and before long I was deep inside of her. I kissed her, and saw the glistening in her eyes. "I love you, Dana. This is wonderful." The first moan had me cautious, nervous. Her hands clenched my ass cheeks, and pulled me into her, and I knew it was Ok. It was a long, glorious, time, with lots of expressions of love. She lay beneath me, her eyes closed, responding amazingly. "So good," she whispered. "Bang me, Logan. Bang this naughty woman." I took her more forcefully, still a little nervous. But I knew her by now, and knew her tells. "Come for me, Dana," I growled into her ear, thrusting deeply. She came sweetly, not very vocal, but her body response left no doubt. "Love me, honey," she gasped. I did, and when I came inside of her, she shuddered in my arms. I eased off of her, stroking her body. Alright, it wasn't a young woman's body, nothing like my wife's. Her skin wasn't nearly as tight, her breasts were smallish, and didn't sag too much. It was an older woman's body, but to me, it was still incredibly sexy. She smiled shyly and pushed me away. "Don't look at me, Logan." "You're gorgeous, Dana. And I'll look at you whenever I want to." She blushed again. It was kind of funny, Grandma probably blushed more that morning, then she had in all the time I'd known her. "I was very pretty, you know," she said. "I could wrap most any man around my little finger." "I know. You still are. You're an incredible woman, Dana. I love being with you. I love making you happy." She giggled, and cuddled up to me. "We do it a lot?" "A lot." "Can we do it again?" That brought a smile to my lips. "It will take a while. Twice last night, and again this morning. I'm not a young man," I teased. She sat up and kissed me. "I bet I can help with that." Then Grandma was moving south, her mouth in action. She was good. Very good. "Wow, you're so much better than Billy's girl, Dana." She pulled up smiling. "Is that what you call me? Billy's girl?" I nodded. "When you're like that, it's difficult to think of you as Grandma. You act so much younger, so different." She sucked me for a few seconds, then pulled up. "You know, I never did this for him, until long after we'd had Caroline. It was about ten years in. Back then, good girls didn't suck cock." "I got that feeling. You and I, we still don't do it very often." "Relax, Logan, and let me show you how much I learned from Billy over the years." Like I said, she was good. Very good. Great even. It wasn't long before she had me hard as nails. She was careful as she mounted me, and sighed sweetly as she took my length. "Do you really think I'm pretty?" "Beautiful, Dana." She was quiet at she rode me. I saw her get that distant look as she gazed at the headboard. Bill and Dana it said. Her hand reached out and traced the letters. "Dana does that." She looked down at me, and smiled, with a hint of tears in her eyes. "You can't understand, Logan. What it means to us. Do you think he'd be angry with me?" "No, Dana. Not a chance. That man loved you like crazy. He'd want you to be happy. He knows you've always been a little naughty." "I never cheated on him, Logan. Not once. Not even close. I kissed a lot of men, and teased them, but I was a good and faithful wife. You're only the second man I've been with in my entire life." "I know, Dana. I know Billy's girl pretty well by now. You're a big tease and a flirt, and you may use your charms to help business, but you're a good woman, if a bit naughty. I bet he loved the naughty you." She grinned, and moved back and forth easily on my cock. "He adored me. It was obvious to everybody. Especially when I was naughty for him." The Marital Bed "I get it, believe me. You're an incredible, sexy woman, Dana." She leaned down and kissed me. "Hush, honey. It's time to be naughty." * * * Grandma was at her best that day. We called the family and checked in, and I spent a little time on the computer, making sure that my part was still done. We were still waiting for two more guys to finish their stuff. She joined me in the workshop, and told stories. Stories from back then. She was in a wonderful mood, and we held hands a lot. We laughed, and we kissed. She giggled, and groaned when I took her after lunch, on the ottoman. "Out-fucking-standing," I told her, and she smiled. It made me feel good to see her so happy. I took her out to an early dinner and she told me more tales. Intimate tales, of her naughty days. How she could entice Grandpa into doing her whenever she wanted. In parks, in the truck, in a customer's house when nobody was around. We relaxed in the living room, with Grandma in my lap, sipping wine, my hand inside her dress, teasing her through her panties. She was giggly, a little tipsy, whispering naughty things in my ear. When the family showed up, tired after a long day, I unpacked the vehicle, and sent Mom and Dad on their way. The kids were eating snacks, and Dana and Grandma were talking. I had a sneaky feeling I'd be hearing a lot more about that. Grandma took over the kids, and Dana dragged me outside to the porch. Alright, I was pretty nervous. She sat in my lap, in Grandma's chair. "We missed you," she said. "I missed y'all, especially you." She gave me a twisted smile. "Grandma seems to be in a great mood. I hear she had a bit of a scare this morning." I nodded. "Scared me. I thought she was going to beat me to death when she found me in her bed this morning. I went to bed with Billy's girl, and woke up with an upset Grandma." "She says you worked it out. She sounds great. Happy." "We did. We talked a lot. About what's been happening, and about her and Grandpa. She's still a little upset, I think." She sighed and leaned against my chest. "What are we going to do, Logan? Is this how it's going to be for the next ten years? I want her to be happy, but I'm worried about us." "I don't know, Dana. I do know that she's not a threat to us. You're my wife. I love you more than anything. We can work this out. Maybe we should bring the family in on it. I don't know what to do either." "Grandma and I both agree, we don't think you two should have sex when she's clear. It's not the same. I understand what happened today, it had to come as a shock to both of you, but no more, alright?" I nodded, feeling ashamed. She was right of course. Being with Billy's girl, when I was Billy, that was different. "I agree." Dana nodded. "Good. I'm worn out. Take me to bed, Logan." I lifted her in my arms, and she laughed, as I carried her through the house. "Put me down, Logan!" she squealed. "I'm too heavy!" I ignored her pleas. "Don't let them stay up too late, alright Grandma?" She smiled and it lit up her face. "I've got the terrors under control. Take that wonderful wife of yours to bed, and show her how lucky you are." Grandma had never talked to us like that before. Things were changing. I hoped for the better, but I had my concerns. I still managed to show Dana how much I loved her, even after a busy day with Grandma. * * * The next week was busy. Moving our bedroom into the addition, dealing with the work integration, and four days of Billy's girl, with all that accompanied it. We moved our Billy out of the attic, and into our old room. Dana loved having the space, and the modern bathroom, and she insisted on christening our marital bed, once we'd installed it in place. I don't mind saying that was the best part of the whole move. Grandma had several lucid afternoons, happy times. She was closer to Dana than ever, often getting together, whispering, laughing. It was great. She cornered me on more than one occasion. "Did we? Today?" she asked. I was always honest with her. The first time the answer was no, it had been a bad day, confused, wandering, looking for people who weren't there. The second time I nodded. "Twice. You were naughty." Her face lit up, looking around to make sure we had some privacy. "How naughty?" I pressed my finger to her lips. "Very. This pretty mouth got me going both times." "Was it good?" "It's always good with you, Dana. You know that. It was better than good, it was out-fucking-standing." She grinned. "I knew we did it. I'm a little sore. A good sore. Thank you, Logan." "I should be the one thanking you." "Is everything Ok between you and my granddaughter?" "Pretty wonderful, actually. I take it you two are getting along?" She nodded. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you two." "Sure you do. You loved us and supported us, and made me what I am. I'm never going to forget that, Dana. I'll always love you." She teared up, and I hugged her for a while before she calmed down. * * * We've had a few awkward moments. There was the family & friends barbecue, when Billy's girl showed up, instead of Grandma. She made a big scene about Dana "sniffin' around her man," and she was very physically affectionate, and extremely flirtatious with most of the men. It was pretty clear the cat was out of the bag, for anyone who didn't know what was going on. She stayed Billy's girl, and dragged me to her bed that night, making sure I knew who belonged to whom. Another time was worse. She walked in on Dana and me on a Saturday morning. There was yelling and slapping, and I got a pretty nasty scratch out of it. My Dana was pretty scary, telling Grandma to deal with it, and getting all up in her face. I got called a lot of names, and I wasn't out of the doghouse until the next day, when Grandma didn't remember anything of it. Dana and I were on the outs for a while, but within a day, we were able to joke about it. By the time summer was over, and the kids were off to school, we had settled into our new lives. Grandma was Billy's girl, much more often than she was clear. We had a loving relationship, which often spilled into the afternoons. Over time she accepted I had a girlfriend. That was weird. The first time she suggested we all sleep together, I thought I'd have a heart attack. We didn't go there, but the idea won't go away. Dana's even mentioned it a time or two. She says she's curious about how Grandma is when she's Billy's girl. For me, the concept moves us beyond weird to seriously warped. Then again, I guess I need to face the fact that what we're doing is anything but normal. Through it all, the hero in my mind is my wife Dana. If it was Grandma gone, and Grandpa jumping on my wife four to five days a week, I don't think I could handle it. Not that Dana doesn't get irritated with me on occasion, even mean, but it rarely lasts more than a few hours. And I go out of my way to remind her every day, and in every way possible, that I adore her, and am thankful she chose me to share her life with. With our expenses down to almost nothing, living in Grandma's house, and my contracting pulling in pretty decent bucks, I do get to spoil her, with jewelry, evenings out, clothing, and a brand new convertible Camaro that she looks amazing in. (And no, not the ZL1 or Z/28. She's fast enough as is.) What's going to happen in the future, it still a mystery to me. I love my wife, and can't believe how tolerant she is, but she's standing up to Grandma whenever she needs to, and they're best friends on Grandma's good days. I'm getting more sex than ever, enough that sometimes I almost feel like begging off. Hasn't happened yet. I'm not going to take a chance of ever rejecting Dana, not after all she's done. And Grandma? Lucid Grandma is a joy, and very, very grateful. Billy's girl? She's still a naughty girl, and I don't think that's going to change anytime soon. Everyone in the family knows about 'Billy's girl' now, and when she's around, we adapt the best we can. No complaints on my side. We're working with the doctors, and trying some different medications, but Billy's girl is still with us a lot. The future's unclear, but for the moment, it seems I get to love two Danas. And I can't think of anything much better. =================== Thank you for reading my story. If you made it this far and enjoyed it, your vote would be greatly appreciated. This is a contest entry, and every vote counts. One only, please, for those who either really loved it or really hated it. As always, I love to hear your comments. TTT