What can I say? I've got this thing for older women. I lost my cherry at 16 to my neighbor, a voluptuous married woman of 43 who rewarded me for cleaning her pool by sucking and fucking me twice a week. I'm 25 now and still irresistibly attracted to older women. Maybe it's their curious blend of confidence and vulnerability. Maybe it's that older women seem to know what they want. Maybe it's just because they're horny.
In any case, after graduating from college I got a job with a pretty big electronics company in the East Bay suburbs. As luck would have it, my recently widowed grandmother lived nearby, and I bunked at her apartment for a couple of months. Two things finally drove me to find my own place. First, it's kind of hard to tell your grandmother that you'd like to bring a juicy, half-drunk 40 year-old gal home from a club and boff her in your bedroom right down the hall.
Second, my grandmother was driving me nuts. Grandma Elliot is 52 and a very good-looking woman. She's short but slender with shoulder-length platinum hair, ice-blue eyes, nice-sized tits, a plush ass, and a lust for life. After two weeks of dragging my sorry ass home from work at 10 p.m., nodding off to sleep on the couch, and being wakened by Grandma returning from the neighborhood bar or the local club, I realized it was probably Grandma who resented my interference with her romantic life.
I found a nice studio apartment a couple of miles from Grandma Elliot's, bid my farewells, and descended into six months of hell. I rose at 6 in the morning, worked all day, six days a week, and usually never returned home from work before 10 or 11 p.m. Sundays I was usually to tired to do anything but buy groceries, do laundry, watch t.v., and make a few phone calls. The money was good, but this was no way to grind my youth away.
Around March, I figured I'd saved up enough money to relax for a couple of months so I told my boss I was leaving. He cried. He wept. He ranted and raved. He offered me his wife and daughter, his pension fund, and the keys to his new BMW if I'd stay. Actually, he just nodded, said good luck, and made a call to human resources.
Heading out into the Spring air that afternoon, I felt great. Free at last. I hopped in my car, headed toward my apartment, and stopped at the first bar that got in my way. Twelve hours later, they called me a taxi. It took me two days to sleep off my hangover. With Friday night approaching, I called up a couple of friends from work, and we arranged to meet at a local dance club at 10 p.m. to kick off the weekend.
Friday night I decked myself out and headed for the club. Things were hopping, even for a local scene. There were plenty of good-looking women surrounding us as my friends and I settled up against the bar and began ordering drinks. Within an hour, I had danced with a young Ivy league grad on her first marketing job, a cute Filipina with earrings down to her shoulders, and a knockout redhead who'd done some temp work at my office. All were under 25, and none got my libido ticking.
After my dancefloor workout, my pal Sam and I became seriously engaged with a bottle of Bushmills whisky.
Around one, as Sam and I leaned into our drinks and mumbled half-remembered jokes, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Expecting to see my other pal, John, I almost lost the fine Irish whisky warming my mouth when I turned my shoulders to see Grandma Elliot in front of me!
Jesus Christ, I thought. Busted by grandma!
Grandma Elliot was beaming a big smile at me and I returned it with a goofier one of my own.
"Well, well," Grandma Elliot said, her hands on her hips. "Look who the waves rolled in!"
I laughed and raised my glass in salute. Grandma edged her way into the bar next to me. She looked good. She had on a tight white dress that showed off all her dangerous curves and her well-turned calves. Her shoulders were bare and you could just see the beginning of some appetizing cleavage peeking out of the top of her dress.
"Grandma," I muttered to her. "What the hell are you doing here?"
She grinned.
"Buy me a drink and I'll tell you," she answered, grabbing my forearm.
I ordered up a whiskey sour, her favorite.
"Whatsa matter," she leaned over to whisper in my ear. "You think I'm too young for this crowd?"
I laughed. She kept her mouth close to my ear and I could feel her warm, moist breath on my neck. It felt good.
"Never too young to party," I answered.
She laughed and sipped on her drink. We made small, boozy talk - - about my resignation, my apartment, my folks, her life. She downed another whisky sour.
"Hey, Billy," she said suddenly, turning toward me. "Let's dance."
"Huh," I answered stupidly.
Dancing with your grandmother in a night club? I hadn't danced with her since I was 14 and my sister got married to that loser from Chicago.
"Come on," Grandma said, tugging my arm. "I'll teach you the latest moves."
Who can say no to their grandmother? I let her lead me out onto the dance floor. Some funky acid jazz number was throbbing across the floor. We danced. Grandma did have some nice moves, especially when she laced her hands behind her head and shimmied her hips in time to the music, thrusting them forward on every downbeat. Her breasts shook and jiggled as she moved. Maybe it was the booze. Or, maybe it was the absurdity of the whole scene, its unreality. Soon I had almost forgotten it was my grandmother I was dancing with. It was just another sexy older broad, this one even sexier and hotter than any of the others.
We danced for a while and then returned to the bar for more drinks. My friends were gone. After sipping our drinks, Grandma turned toward me and ran her hands through her hair, managing to raise her tits until they pointed directly at my hungry eyes. She settled back down and reached out to take my hand in hers. Her little hand slipped into mine and she squeezed.
"Oh Billy," she said, squeezing my hand again and staring straight into my eyes.
"It isn't often an old gal like me can find a good-looking younger guy like you."
I felt a hot blush spread across my face and my back. I also felt my cock starting to stir in my pants.
