In the first chapter, 67 year old Theodore Patterson accidentally discovered his granddaughter Cathy's special sanctuary, and that meeting had major implications.
Grandpa Ted was invited back the next evening, and now he was forced to spend the day with his son and his wife, along with Cathy, while dreaming about what was to come.
...
Chapter One: I feel like Grandpa Simpson
"I feel like Grandpa Simpson," I mumbled to Cathy as we sat in the vehicle that was going to take us on a tour through the city, exploring various historical sites, before the grand finale when the bus would slide into the Hudson River and become a boat.
Cathy went into a giggle fit as I described my take on the adventure we were into, telling her that this was something that Homer would do to his father before dumping his butt back into the retirement home, relieved to be done with his obligation to spend a few moments with his old man.
Actually, it was a rather interesting excursion for a sunny Saturday afternoon, and it was made even nicer by the girl at my side, my granddaughter Cathy. Just the feel of her thigh against mine was enough to send chills down my spine after what had happened the night before, especially after she had confirmed that it hadn't all been a dream.
"That was so awesome last night, Grandpa," Cathy had exclaimed when she saw me early this morning. "I never came that hard before in my life."
I didn't tell her that I had popped my nut seconds after getting back to my bedroom, but I did tell her that it was special for me too, and now sitting behind her parents we were carrying on like schoolkids.
"What are you two doing back there?" Beth said as she turned around and gave us a strange look.
"Brent, isn't that what we used to say to you when you were carrying on in the back seat of the car on trips?" I asked my son, who nodded in agreement.
"You used to threaten to turn the car around and go home," Brent added.
"Well, I guess we better calm down then," I told Cathy. "Don't want to swim to shore."
A dip in the smelly river might be needed before long, I feared, as the feel and sight of Cathy's soft thigh against my leg was making my blood pressure rise.
Nice legs, I noted, creamy white and soft looking, with just the hint of a fine down on the tops of her thighs. How I wanted to touch those shapely legs and to feel her soft skin against my hand.
The narrator droned on about the history of the Hudson River while everybody on the bus pointed and babbled with each other, and Cathy leaned over and whispered in my ear while her folks were distracted, her hand resting briefly on my leg.
"Can't wait for tonight."
I nodded, swallowing hard while trying to control my accelerating heartbeat, and managed to behave for the rest of the afternoon. At home, the evening was a bit tougher, because every time a looked at Cathy I saw her naked.
Those precious breasts, practically designed to fit in a man's palm, drew my attention every time I saw them jiggle under Cathy's shirt. She was wearing a bra but they still moved around a bit, and while I wasn't a breast man they were still nice enough to command my attention.
Cathy wore a 34A brassiere, and the reason I knew that was because I had checked out the tag on the contraption I spotted in the hamper that morning. Certainly wasn't her mother's, who was much bigger than that, but I didn't care about the size of her boobs because I had other interests.
Her waist was a little thick but not fat, and those legs were quite shapely, but it was something else that really caught my eye all the time, and as I watched it wiggle in her snug shorts I felt myself stir to life.
...
Chapter Two: Cosmo Kramer is the Assman!
That was what Michael Richards had proclaimed loudly, and while I had already seen the episode where Kramer got the wrong license plate, it still got a chuckle out of me. That paled in comparison to Cathy's reaction when she heard it, and she exploded with laughter as we all sat and watched Seinfeld in the living room.
"Good grief," Cathy's father said as he watched his daughter doubled over on the couch. "It's not that funny!"
"Can't believe they allow that stuff on television anyway," Cathy's mother said, looking for the TV Guide in hopes of finding something else to watch.
"The Assman!" Cathy howled, and as she laughed she looked at me and winked. "What's wrong with that?"
Cathy's parents shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders at me as if to apologize, but I was laughing as well.
"It is funny," I opined as Cathy wound down, and after she got control of herself everybody went back to watching the show, except that when I glanced over at Cathy she mouthed something at me.
I caught it the second time, and I had to turn away while I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. She didn't say it, but her mouthing echoed in my mind as if she had screamed it.
You are the assman.
We exchanged glances as we headed our separate ways, and her peck on the cheek was innocent enough, although the press of her breast against me seemed intentional. Now I was forced to sit in my room after changing into my PJ's, trying to figure out what would be a suitable time before going upstairs.
The bathroom was just outside my room, so I made a couple of trips to check out the activity level down at my son's bedroom. The first trip was necessary, but I could see the light on in their room. The second trip wasn't needed, but when I saw that the light was out I hurried back into my room and grabbed the little bag that I had debated about bringing up with me.
Tiptoeing down the hall and up the stairs, I saw the door of Cathy's sanctuary ajar again, and the light was on, which I took as a welcome sign, beckoning me to come right in.
...
Chapter Three: The bag.
"Hi Grandpa!" Cathy chirped as she skipped over to greet me at the door. She was wearing a yellow and green tie-dyed t-shirt and nothing else, and as she jumped into me we kissed and hugged.
"What's in the bag?" Cathy asked. "Booze?"
"You're not old enough to drink," I said. "Are you?"
"Afraid you might corrupt me?" Cathy asked. "So what's in the bag?"
I felt creepy bringing it up to show Cathy, but it was too late to change that now, having piqued her interest, so while Cathy bounced onto her bed I walked over with my parcel.
"We were talking about toys yesterday," I said, opening up my bag and taking out the contents.
"Oh man, this is so cool!" Cathy chirped as I handed the box to her. "It looks brand new."
"I keep it in as good condition as I can," I said. "Have to take care of my only friend."
"Don't say that, Grandpa," Cathy said, her face suddenly turning serious. "I'm always your friend. Always have been and always will be."
"I didn't mean it that way."
"I'm serious," Cathy insisted. "I've always had a major crush on you, for as long as I can remember. I figured you could tell. Everybody else in the family did."
"I knew we got along really well," I said. "It goes without saying how crazy I am about you."
"You always treated me like I was like an equal, even when I was a kid. You made me feel like a woman even back in the olden days when I was a goofy kid," Cathy said. "Never more so than last night."
"I'm glad."
"So, how does this thing work?" Cathy said, pulling the Ejaculator 3000 out of the cardboard box and plastic sleeve. "Show me."
"You just hook up that hose to the end, lube up and slip it in, and then you start squeezing the trigger," I said.
"No," Cathy said. "I want you to show me how it works."
"Show - I can't..." I stammered, but Cathy wasn't having any of that.
"Come on Grandpa," Cathy said with a salacious grin. "You didn't bring that up here just to show me the box."
"I swear," I said, and it was true. No way was I going to show my private parts to Cathy. "I didn't plan any such thing. Besides, you need lube to use it and I didn't bring any up here."
Cathy bounced over to the night table and pulled out a bottle of something.
