"If you feel like you need help cleaning up, or... with... anything else, you just let your Granny know."
Even now, with my head shoved under the steaming shower head, Granny's words echoed in my brain. What exactly had she meant by that? Was my own grandmother...flirting with me? Or was I the pervert for even having that thought?
It was bad enough that she had caught me naked in bed that morning, right after a wet dream. And even worse: a wet dream where
she
and her friends had been the main attraction. But for her to then remain there in the bedroom, as normal as could be--while I still lay in bed half-hard and soaked in my own semen--and then say something so suggestive just felt incredibly... inappropriate.
I turned the shower as cold as I could, and forced myself to stand directly beneath it. Trying to think about anything except the dream of my Granny in her satin underclothes, cheering me on as I fucked her fat, hairy friend right in front of her. But the more I tried to get that dirty vision out of my head, the clearer and more colorful it became. Why had it felt so damn good to cum into that massive woman while a bunch of old ladies watched? Everything about it felt wrong and disgusting... and impossible to forget.
Just a dream
, I reminded myself.
Just a very, very nasty dream...
I soaped up a washcloth and scoured my body with it, hard, again and again, as if I could somehow scrub all the shame away. But even then, shivering under the ice-cold water, my cock was standing straight up again, as stiff and reliable as a piece of grade-A lumber. You know, everybody loves to glorify youth, but I'm here to tell you that sometimes, being an 18-year-old man can be downright exhausting. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was standing there freezing my shrunken balls off, trying to forget the single most embarrassing moment of my life. And yet, apparently, all my cock wanted to do was fuck.
I pushed my dick straight under the water, clenched my eyes shut, and tried to picture the most unappealing things I could imagine. But all I could envision was my Granny's pale, hefty tits pressed tight beneath the slick white fabric of her slip. Fuck! My cock was literally bobbing up and down now, like some kind of rabid, hungry animal. It was obvious that standing around naked in the shower--even an ice-cold shower--wasn't helping anything. I shut the water off and grabbed a towel, my dick still waving absurdly in front of me. Maybe if I just ignored it and tried to get on with my day, it would all go away.
The smell of fresh coffee and bacon filled the house. Granny was in the kitchen, flitting around and fussing the way she loved to do whenever she had company. She was still in her puffy pink robe, which--I couldn't help but notice--was open and swirling around here, revealing her long white nightgown. It was a sight I'd seen a thousand times before. And yet, for some reason, today it felt much more obvious.
Be cool, you fucking pervert
.
Be cool.
I had managed to cram my unruly dick into an extra-tight pair of boxer briefs before I got dressed, so that at least the problem could be contained. I tried not to feel how hot and thick it was against my thigh as I took a seat at the kitchen table. At least when I was sitting, it wasn't quite so obvious. Not that Granny was going to be looking at my crotch anyway. Right?
She knew exactly how I liked my eggs. As soon as I sat down, she lovingly plopped a plate down in front of me, same as she'd been doing for as long as I could remember. Granny lived about ten hours away from my parents, so growing up, we didn't see each other that often. But whenever I visited, she always treated it like a holiday. This summer was no different. We knew that it was my last real vacation before going off to college, so she had invited me to come stay at her house with her for a week. I'll admit it wasn't the most exciting trip I'd ever taken, but it was relaxing, and at that point I didn't have much else going on in my life. It might be hard to imagine now, but back then, most people didn't have a cell phone, and the internet--let alone online pornography--was still the stuff of science-fiction. Other than some books and whatever PG-rated movies happened to be on Granny's old TV at night, I was on my own.
Of course, as an 18-year-old, I wished I could be around more people my age--and in particular, more women. But if I'm being honest, it wasn't like I had a stable of horny girls waiting around for me at home. In fact, at that point, I'd only really been with two girls in my life, and let's just say that, as grateful as I was for the experiences, my performance had been... less than stellar. I'd been told by my older friends that things would get better in college. As far as I was concerned, they couldn't get much worse. In the meantime, here I was, putting in some wholesome family time with Granny. And trying--badly, apparently--to keep my own constant horniness at bay.
"How are the eggs?" Granny nestled into her chair across the table from me and filled her coffee cup.
"You know they're perfect, Granny. Your eggs always are."
"Just checking," she chuckled. "You're growing up into a good-looking young man now, and I know that sometimes men's tastes can change."
"Not for eggs they don't."
"Well that's nice to hear," she said, buttering up a slice of toast. "If you need any more, you just let your Granny know."
"You spoil me, Granny."
"Good," she grinned, and bit into her toast. As she raised her arm, her robe slipped open a little more. I tried with all my might not to notice the shape of her big pillowy tits shifting just beneath her nightgown--or the fact that my cock was still half-hard and straining against my underwear. What the hell was wrong with me?
Boring thoughts
, I told myself, as I shoveled more food in my mouth.
Think boring thoughts.
Granny took a big sip of coffee, and peered at me over her cup.
"So, tell me," she said. "How did it feel?"
I choked on my bacon and coughed hard. I could feel my face go bright red. She passed me my glass of water but didn't say anything.
"Excuse me?" I managed to cough out.
"Your wet dream," she said, as cool and plain as if we were discussing the weather. "The one I walked in on this morning. Was it nice?"
I coughed hard again and looked around.
Was this a joke?
Granny's eyes stayed fixed on me, calm as could be. I wished I could shrivel up and disappear, but barring that, I wondered how hard it would be to just jump up and leap straight out the window.
"I, uh... I don't know what you mean, Granny."
"Oh, don't be coy with me, Bobby. You know exactly what I'm talking about. We both saw it in your bed this morning."
"I don't... I can't... I mean... "
"You know it's completely natural, right? Certainly nothing to be ashamed of. Especially at your age."
"I, uh... Granny, I'm not sure that's something we should be talking about."
Granny leaned forward, elbows on the table. Her eyes were kind, but her voice was all business. "Listen, Bobby. You're not at your mother's house anymore. We're both grown people. And you're going to need to learn how to talk about grown-people things."
"But... you're my grandmother."
"You're damn right I am. And who better than me to give you a little wisdom? Back when I was your age, people were afraid to discuss this sort of thing. And you know what
