This story involves a fictional relationship between a 61 year old grandfather and his 18 year old granddaughter. If this topic offends you, please go no further.
Grandpa Ed and little Molly have been both acting like school kids whenever Grandma Ethel goes to bingo. Molly wanted a girl friend to visit her out in Ed and Ethel's Maine sanctuary, a friend that Molly had told Ed was crazier than she was.
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Chapter 1. Behind the barn.
I brought the wheelbarrow full of stones out from behind the barn to the side of the house, where my wife Ethel was using them for the border of a flower bed. When I got there with the stones, Ethel stood up, wiped her brow and tells me that she's going in to lie down.
"Whew!" Ethel brayed. "The heat's taking a lot out of me. Just leave the stones there and I'll finish it later. I'm going to take a nap."
"Fine," I said while watching her waddle into the house and thus giving me a break from being her pack horse, so I went back behind the barn to straighten up the mess I had left behind.
As soon as I got back there, I felt the urge to pee. This was typical these days with me, but I would be damned if I was going all the way back inside to do it, so I stepped back away from the barn and near what I affectionately call my pissing tree and unzipped my work pants.
"Hi Grandpa!" What are you doing?" I heard Molly chirp happily, having just come from around the corner of the barn just in time to see me fidling around in my pants. "Grandpa, are you playing with yourself?"
"No dear," I said as I turned away and put everything back in place. "I just have to relieve myself.
"Huh? Oh, you mean you have to pee?" Molly asked. "I wanna watch! I never saw a man do that before."
"Molly, that's not the kind of thing..." I started to explain, but Molly was already by my side, hanging on my shoulder and waiting.
"You gotta take your thing out Grandpa," Molly explained to me with a giggle, and I rolled my eyes at her before reluctantly reaching back inside my trousers and pulling out my member.
"Yeah! My favorite toy!" Molly cheered as my tool came into view, and I had to chuckle as I stood there waiting patiently with Molly for the operation to begin.
"What's wrong Grandpa?" Molly asked as we stared at my limp pecker hanging there doing nothing but getting a breath of fresh air.
"Not used to an audience," I muttered as I wiggled and stretched it a bit, hoping to encourage things along while taking a peek over my shoulder to watch out for Ethel.
"Can I help?" Molly offered, and reached down and grabbed it in her little paw.
While this began to achieve an unneeded response, it didn't have any immediate results.
"C'mon Mr. Big Dick," Molly pleaded. "I want to watch you tinkle. Maybe if I sing to him it will help."
Molly began stroking my cock while singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider", her fingers rubbing the glans and just underneath. When she got to the part about the rain washing the spider out, I felt relief was on the way, as could Molly.
"Hooray!" Molly cheered, as a few squirts of urine came out, followed by a steady stream that became a torrent. Molly was waving my cock around trying to write her name when the stream tapered down, finally fading to a dribble.
"That was fun Grandpa," Molly said. "Now what do I do?"
"Shake it a little bit so that you get all the loose moisture off of it."
"Like this Grandpa?" Molly asked, shaking and wiggling it all around.
That wasn't what I had in mind, but since I was on the verge of getting an erection and it felt so good I let her go on shaking. And shaking.
"When you started to pee I could feel it rushing through your cock, just like it did when I felt you about to cum," Molly said. "Ooooh, your cock is hard now Grandpa."
I looked down and saw her little fist clenched around the shaft, jerking up and down, and I began to sense that was what Molly had in mind all along.
"Feels good, doesn't it Grandpa?" Molly asked. "I'm pretending that this is my dick."
Molly stood behind me and jacked me off, peeking around my side to watch from time to time.
"Grandma showed me her tits," Molly said quietly.
"WHAT?" I barked too loudly. "Uh, what do you mean?"
"Well, I had just gotten out of the shower and went into my room, and Grandma Ethel came in to put some sheets in that spare closet," Molly explained. "I didn't bother covering up or anything, 'cause we're both girls. She asked me if I check my breasts for lumps, and when I told her no, she came over to me and showed me how."
"What the hell," I muttered, picturing Ethel groping Molly's little titties like some old bull dyke. Besides, Molly's breasts were so small that if there was anything wrong it would be easy to see, and I would have noticed myself.
"Yeah, it was real educational," Molly went on. "She felt all around my boobies, and checked my nipples, and felt under my arms too. Then she took her top off and wanted me to help examine her so I knew what to do. Boy, Ethel's breasts are really big, aren't they Grandpa? They're as big as my friend Angie's are, except Angie's are really firm."
"Grandma Ethel's nipples are big too, and then she had me check for lumps under her arms," Molly went on, and I leaned against the tree as the surge roared through my groin. "You should shave Grandma Ethel's armpits like you do mine, because hers are really hairy. They're hairier than yours are, Grandpa."
My knees buckled as jets of my seed spurted out onto the ground, and Molly pumped and milked me with all of her might until I pulled her hand off.
"Wow, that was fun," Molly said as she looked at the back of her hand and licked the string of semen from her knuckles. "We'll have some more fun tomorrow night Grandpa. You know what tomorrow night is? BINGO!" she squealed as she ran around the barn and back to the house.
Chapter 2. Midnight conversations with... Ethel!
That night I woke up for one of my runs to the bathroom, and avoided Molly's room like the plague, needing to save my energy up for later on. When I returned to bed Ethel rolled out and went herself, and when she came back she was in the mood for talk.
"Are you awake, Ed?" Ethel asked, and I grunted a response that I hoped she would take as a no, but I was wrong.
"I need to talk to you about Molly," Ethel said, and my heart skipped several beats.
"What about Molly?" I asked groggily, realizing after a moment that if she had found out, or even suspected what was going on, she would have been screaming instead of whispering.
"I think we should take her to the doctor and have her looked at," Ethel announced. "I think there's something wrong with her."
"Nothing wrong with her," I grunted. "She's a healthy young woman."