Julie was my favorite granddaughter. Normally, she was a bright, well adjusted 23-year old with a head full of ideas and an aggressive approach toward life, but today I could tell that something was on her mind.
"Hey, kitten! What's bugging my favorite superstar today?" I greeted her with a big hug that I still got away with, although any day now it was going to be noticed that I enjoyed hugging my granddaughter more than the allowable degree.
All she could manage was a wan smile. "Oh, nothing, Gramps."
"Let's see now. As I recall, that means either 'It's too personal to discuss' or 'I don't know how to describe it'. Which one would it be? A or B?"
"Well, sort of both. It also means that there is no solution, so why bother talking about something that would only embarrass me, for no purpose?"
"OK. While we're not talking about it, how about some of my patented hot chocolate? It's still nippy enough outside to justify a little fire in the fireplace and we can relax with a little grog. Sound good?"
"Sounds great! Want me to make the fire?"
"Go ahead. Then you will be able to honestly say you didn't know how much cognac was in the chocolate."
"You waste your cognac in chocolate milk?"
"It's my cognac. I can waste all I want. Now go start the fire like a good little girl while I get busy in the kitchen."
Later, we assumed our familiar fireplace positions. I sat on the floor and leaned back against the couch. Julie sat between my legs and leaned back against my chest.
"Mmmmhh! I had forgotten how good it feels to lean back against you and feel your strong arms around me."
"Aw, that's just the cognac talking. Besides, you're getting too old to do this. When you were smaller, you were just my Kitten, and I could cuddle you without wondering what was down the front of your blouse."
"Why GrandPa! Do you mean you're getting turned on by me?"
"Honey, a stone statue would be turned on by you. Any man who had the chance to sit in front of a nice fire like this and cuddle with you would be hard pressed to think of anything else. And I do mean hard."
"Oh! Oh! I get it! I thought something was different about your lap." She put her hand directly on my throbbing erection and gave it a little squeeze. "Did I do this?"
"You certainly did, my love. Maybe we should change our positions so that you don't have to rub against the evidence of your sexual attraction."
"To tell you the truth, that's sort of what is bothering me, but I still don't feel comfortable discussing it. Is it ok if we keep sitting like this? I sort of like knowing that I turn you on. Will it hurt you if I lean back against it like I was before?"
"Probably, but it's not a bad kind of hurt. If it gets too tough, I can always move. Are you sure this doesn't mess too much with your mind? No amount of pleasure for me would be worth screwing up our relationship."
"Screwing?"
"Just drink your chocolate."
"Gramps?"
"Huh?"
"Am I beautiful?"
"You are to me, Kitten, but then I love you so much I have no way to know if you're really that beautiful to everyone, or just to those of us who love you. I can tell you this much. Unless you're planning to try to get through life on looks alone, you have absolutely nothing to worry about."
"Does that mean I'm as ugly as sin, but you love me enough to forgive me?"
"Not by a long shot! I was merely trying to give you the most honest answer possible to what I thought was a serious question. If you were just asking a girl-question, then my answer is 'absolutely!'"
"Mmmmhh. Ok. Thanks, I guess."
"Ok. Let's do it this way. Am I handsome?"
"How should I know? You're my grandpa. Oh. I see what you mean."
"See, the real answer is very subjective. It depends too much on your relationship with the other person. When you meet the right person for you, I can guarantee that he will think you are the most beautiful woman who ever walked. Others will see you through eyes that are tinted by how they feel about you. To a stranger, you are a very attractive young girl, and almost anyone would feel lucky to get to know you better. Is that good enough?"
"That's fine. Now. Am I sexy?"
"Do you really have to ask? Put your hand here."
"Oh my! It's so hard. Isn't it painful in those tight pants?"
"Some things are worth a little pain, but since we are getting to the root of the matter, so to speak, would it be ok if I changed into my robe? Under the circumstances, I might do myself some serious damage. It wouldn't be the first time, either. When I was your age, we all wore tight blue jeans, just like a lot of kids today, and there was blood in my jeans on several occasions."
"Oh dear! Sure, I don't mind if you change. It's your house. Can I have one of your old shirts to wear?"
"I'll bring you one. Why don't you freshen our chocolates?"
When we got resettled, Julie was wearing an old, soft, flannel shirt and I was in my robe. I was pretty sure the only thing she was wearing under the shirt was her panties. I knew for certain that I was wearing nothing under the robe. From the way we were going, it was hard to tell where we would wind up, but I was determined not to push anything. The worst thing that could possibly happen would be to do something that would strain our relationship. I would have to be very careful and not let Long John do my thinking for me.
"Comfy?"
"Ummmhh. Did I put too much cognac in these?"
"As long as we don't get too near the open flame, we may be safe. I have no idea how well you can handle it. Take it easy. We don't want you going home drunk."
"Maybe I can stay overnight?"
"It's fine with me, but it may be more than my poor old heart can take."
"Oh, pooh, Gramps. I think you can take a lot. Wow! That thing feels a lot bigger against my back, now. Is it less painful now?"
"A little. At least the pain is internal, from the swelling, and not from the sharp zipper that I was afraid would rip me a new one."
"Would it make it feel better if I put my hand on it? My boyfriend says it helps him."
"I'm sure it would, but make sure this is what you want before you go further."
"Yes. I'm sure. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. It's just that I don't always know all the things I want to know. Like, what does one of those things look like, up close? My boyfriend always wants me to touch him, then he shoots off before I ever get a good look and then he wants to go home. I saw Daddy walking down the hall in his boxers and his dick was sticking out a bit, but he put it back in real quick when he saw me looking. Can I look at yours?"
"Be my guest!"
"
. I guess I am. Wow! Are they all this big?"
"Not all, but there are some a lot bigger."
