"What the fuck!!!!!" I said aloud.
My head turned quickly to the side. I could see the alarm clock. It was 3.30am. I'm never awake at this time of the morning. I know why though. I can feel a wet warm mouth sucking the life out of my hard cock. Its dark, but I know who it is. It can only one person. And that's my grandma.
Firstly, let me introduce myself. My name is Brandon. I'm 22 years old who through circumstance has had to come and stay with my grandma Phyllis. Not through choice mind you. I could think other places I rather be. I have had no choice though. I have to stay here for a period. I think it's 6 months. You see I'm a parolee. They would only let me out if I had somewhere permanent to stay. My own parents were being awkward. I'd spent the last 3 years in prison and my mothers mother was the only one who would let me stay and helped loads with the parole board.
I've been out for 2 weeks now. I'm still not used to life here on the outside. Part of the conditions of my early release is that I stay away from my old haunts and mates. At the moment I'm obeying. It's hard. I miss my old life so much. Not that it was that brilliant. I spent my whole time when not working, drinking and fighting. The only thing that could sway me away from that was a good fucking. I was well known for that. Almost as much as the fighting.
As you can imagine, after 3 years banged up, I'm a pretty horny guy. My grandma is my grandmother though and I've never thought of her any other way. At least not sexually. Things have certainly changed between these past couple of weeks. I think for the mutual better.
I arrived at the house at 10.30 on a Monday morning. A probation officer had met me outside the prison and ferried me here. I think they felt I couldn't be trusted and so made sure I got off to the right start. They needn't of worried though, I was so relieved of getting out I had no intention of screwing up.
I led the old probation officer around the back of the house. There was grandma Phyllis, as I'd imagined, on her knees, taking full advantage of the weather, tending to her beds. For the first time, I became nervous. I'd always been Phyllis's favourite grandson and she'd only visited me once in prison and that was about a year ago. So I really didn't know how we stood with each other. In hind sight, it couldn't be that bad. She was letting me live with her. I coughed to get her attention. I wondered how she felt about me now. At the sound of my cough, she turned round.
"Oh Brandon honey. You're here. Finally." I smiled kind of weakly. I was ashamed of myself and embarrassed.
"Hi grandma.......... This here's Mr Johnson, he picked me up from the prison. He's a probation officer.
Grandma walked towards us, smiling, wiping her hands on an old apron as she did. This, as I've said is the first time I'd seen her in just over a year and to be honest, she was a real sight for sore eyes. I didn't know it then, but I can now tell you that Phyllis is 61. You can certainly see where my mother gets her good looks from.
She stood in front of me, completely ignoring Mr Johnsons out stretched hand. Her hand came up and caressed my cheek.
"My darling Brandon.......... It's going to be really nice to having you here."
With that, she threw her arms around me and I found myself embraced in her loving arms. After a few seconds that felt like minutes she told me to go on into the house whilst she talked with Mr Johnson. I couldn't hear what they were saying but could imagine that he was just re-iterating my parole conditions to her.
Within 5 minutes, they both walked into the house. Mr Johnson said his goodbyes, wished me luck, told me not to forget our first appointment in a weeks time and I was left alone with grandma.
She stood there looking at me. I couldn't tell what she was thinking and so I made my way to the kitchen table and sat down and waited for the lecture that I was sure was going to happen any time soon. Mr Johnson had told me to expect it and I was, so I was more than a little surprised when grandma said,
"You looked tired darling. Let me go and have a quick wash and I'll fix you some food. Your mother brought most of your things over last week. There upstairs in your room. Top of the stairs, first door on the left. I won't be long, so make yourself at home."
I watched her walk out of the kitchen. I picked up the meagre possessions that I'd accumulated in the nick and followed her upstairs. I entered my room and was pleasantly surprised to find that Phyllis had sorted my things out for me. Most of my things were here and I guess that sort of made things final. My parents had made their decision and were sticking to it. I couldn't blame them. I'd put them through hell for years and they obviously felt that even after my time in the nick I wouldn't of changed and hadn't had enough tolerance to have me at home. In time I knew they'd come round and it was up to me to show them that I've changed and that they could trust me.
I sat on the edge of the bed. I could hear grandma moving around her room. I could even hear the wardrobe door opening and closing. I could hear her faint cough. It struck me as strange how I could. Considering this was an old house. I'd of thought the walls would have been thicker. But no. I heard her leave her room and enter the bathroom across the hallway. Then the sound of the shower running and all of a sudden I had an image forced into my mind. I couldn't help myself. It was just there.
The image was of grandma soaping up her large breasts under the shower. I could almost see the river of water cascading over her large nipples. The image must of stayed with me for seconds, it felt like minutes, but I shook myself and the image left. I came aware that I was actually stoking my hard cock. My erection must have been instantaneous. I really hadn't been aware that I was doing it. I was shocked. I know that I'd been in prison for a good few years and this was the closest I'd been to a woman in that time, so it was understandable that I would become aroused. But, she's my grandmother and I was starting to feel disgusted with myself.
I busied myself with getting changed. I went through my draws hoping to find my favourite clothes. I did. I'd been afraid that mum had thrown them away. But she'd known how much I liked them and had obviously decided to let me keep them. Another sign. They weren't much but I'd had them ever since. It was a pair of old sweat-pants and a washed out black vest. I used to wear them to the gym and then they got relegated to the house. But I could never bring myself to throw them out.
